Chapter 12 #2
I finished my sandwich and fruit, then peeled off my t-shirt and slipped into the cool water, sighing as it enveloped my overheated skin. For a few moments, I floated on my back, staring up at the cloudless sky, trying to empty my mind of everything.
The contrast between the cool water and the warm air on my face created a cocoon of sensation that momentarily quieted my racing thoughts.
When I finally climbed out, the others had arranged themselves in a half-circle of lounge chairs, drinks in hand. Kaiden wordlessly slid a fresh glass of iced tea into my hand as I took the remaining seat.
“So, Theo,” Mitchell began after a comfortable silence, “the others mentioned you’re here because of your brother? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I took a sip of tea, considering how much to share. I’d told Kaiden and Carter the basics when I first arrived, but not the details. Not the guilt looming over me like a constant shadow.
“My brother, Casey,” I began slowly, setting down my glass. “He was in a skiing accident about eight months ago. Traumatic brain injury. He’s in a rehabilitation facility now.”
“I’m sorry,” Mitchell said, and I could see he genuinely was. “That must be tough.”
“It is,” I admitted. “Especially since…” I hesitated, then decided to just blurt it. “I was supposed to be there. It was his birthday trip, and I bailed at the last minute to stay and party with friends. If I’d been there, maybe I could have prevented it somehow.”
“You know that’s not on you, right?” Carter said gently. “You can’t live your life guessing at the what-ifs.”
“I know that,” I sighed. “But it doesn’t stop the guilt. Anyway, he needs specialized care now, and our insurance only covers so much. The facility he’s in is decent, but there are better ones.”
“So you came here,” Kaiden nodded, his expression softening with understanding. “Makes sense. The money is hard to beat.”
“I told him I'd be back in a few weeks,” I continued, staring into my cup, feeling the weight of my words. “But I’m planning to stay for a while, long enough to save up to not just pay for his care, but to set us up.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for someone your age,” Mitchell observed, and I could hear the respect in his voice, not pity.
“We don’t have anyone else,” I said simply. “Casey took care of me when our dad died. Now it’s my turn to take care of him.”
“How’s he handling your absence?” Carter asked quietly. “Does he know where you are?”
I shook my head, my heart clenching. “I told him I got a job on one of those fishing boats in Florida.” I swallowed hard, willing the emotion to dissipate. “He’d be devastated if he knew the truth. He always wanted more for me. College, a career, the whole American dream package.”
“Sometimes life takes unexpected turns,” Mitchell said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “But from what you’ve told us, it sounds like you’re doing this out of love. There’s nothing shameful in that.”
“Noble,” Mitchell said with a nod. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too. You can’t be a good provider for Casey if you’re not a good provider for yourself.”
“Yeah, that’s what Dr. Winters keeps telling me,” I said with a small smile.
“Smart guy,” Mitchell agreed. “And he’s right. This place can be intense, emotionally and physically. Make sure you’re refilling your own cup, so to speak.”
“Speaking of which,” Kaiden interjected, grinning widely, “this place is also an incredible opportunity.
Where else could you make this kind of money at our age?
I've been here over four years, and I've got a full investment portfolio waiting for me when I'm done. I’ll never have to work again if I don’t want to.”
“Seriously?” I asked, impressed.
“Seriously,” Kaiden confirmed with a satisfied smile. “I live modestly, invest wisely, and save like crazy. The beauty of this job is that all our basic needs are covered—room, board, healthcare. The salary is almost pure profit.”
“I’m not quite as disciplined as Kaiden,” Carter admitted with a chuckle, “but even I’ve got a decent nest egg building up. Enough to open my own restaurant one day, which is the dream.”
“What about you, Mitchell?” I asked. “What’s your post-Ranch plan?”
Mitchell stretched lazily in his chair, water droplets glistening off his sun-kissed skin. “Travel, mostly. I want to see the world, experience different cultures, foods, languages. I’ve got enough saved to take a couple of years off and just wander. After that, who knows?”
For the first time since arriving, I allowed myself to think beyond Casey’s immediate needs, envisioning a future where we were both taken care of.
“You know,” I said slowly, “when I took this job, I was just thinking about the money. About Casey. I didn’t expect to actually...like it here.”
“It grows on you,” Carter said with a knowing smile. “For all its craziness, The Ranch is a pretty special place.”
“The work is interesting, the people are generally chill, and the benefits are unbeatable,” Mitchell added. “Plus, where else can you get paid to have mind-blowing sex with attractive people?”
“And occasionally fall for unattainable European royalty,” Kaiden teased gently, but his eyes held that special kindness, tempering the jab.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
“Not a chance,” Carter confirmed cheerfully. “But if it makes you feel better, you’re not the first, and you definitely won’t be the last. Part of the Ranch experience is the occasional heartache. Just like the occasional muscle strain or interesting bruise.”
“Speaking of bruises,” Mitchell said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “you should see what this oil tycoon from Houston left on my—”
“TMI, Mitch!” Kaiden interrupted, launching a pool noodle in his direction, aiming with uncanny accuracy. “Some of us are trying to digest lunch over here.”
Mitchell caught the noodle mid-air and retaliated with a playful whack back, leading to an all-out splash war that had us all involved. By the time we collapsed back into our chairs, the sun began to descend, casting long shadows across the patio.
“We should probably start getting ready for our evening shifts,” Carter said, glancing at his watch. “I’ve got a client at seven. You guys?”
“I’m in a BDSM dungeon,” Mitchell chimed in, his enthusiasm palpable. “My favorite. Got a new client who’s never explored impact play before.” His eyes sparkled with genuine excitement. “There’s something special about the newbies.”
“Sounds about right,” Kaiden snorted, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “I’ll be helping Renato with a private lesson. I’m already tingling just thinking about it.” He turned to me, a grin stretching across his face. “And you, boychick?”
“Um, just the bar by the pool again,” I replied. “They seem to like me there. Oh, and tomorrow night I’m scheduled for the Dark Room.” All three sets of eyes shot up to me. “Is it as intense as everyone makes it sound?”
Carter chuckled. “Well, it’s an anonymous sexual encounter space,” he explained matter-of-factly, clearly enjoying the chance to spill the tea.
“Think bathhouse meets orgy room. Low lighting, sometimes no lighting at all. Clients can come and go as they please, engage with whoever they want. All without the pressure of conversation or introductions.”
“So I’m basically there for people to hook up with?” I deadpanned, leaning forward with genuine interest. Okay, maybe there was something thrilling about the rawness of it.
“More or less,” Mitchell confirmed, raising his eyebrows in affirmation. “Though it's not just about being used. You're still there to facilitate pleasure, just like the other assignments. The anonymity adds a different thrill for some clients. It can be intense.”
“Right,” I said slowly, absorbing the new information. “What’s the shift like?”
“Four hours, usually,” Kaiden replied. “But it flies by, trust me. Time gets weird in there. It's like this bubble where nothing exists except sensation.”
“You’ll be fine,” Carter reassured me, his quiet confidence lifting some of the weight off my shoulders. “Just remember your training. And remember what we talked about today. Protect your heart.”
I nodded slowly, realizing the sincerity behind his words. All this was new territory, and while I was excited about stepping into the Dark Room, I also felt a twinge of apprehension at what lay ahead.
As we gathered our belongings and started to head back toward the staff quarters, my mood had lifted considerably.
My roommates and Mitchell reminded me I wasn’t alone here.
I had friends who understood the unique challenges of this job, who could offer advice and support when things got complicated.
Somehow, that made the burdens feel lighter.
Carter caught my eye as I turned toward the front door, his expression unreadable for a moment. “Theo,” he said quietly, so the others couldn't hear, “it does get easier. The emotional part, I mean.”
I offered him a small smile, appreciating the gesture. “Does it? Or do we just get better at pretending it doesn’t affect us?”
He considered my words, then gave a slight nod, conceding the point. “Maybe a bit of both. But either way, you survive it. And sometimes,” he added, his gaze drifting off, “you even find something real in the midst of all the fantasy. Just not always where or how you expect it.”
“Thanks, Carter,” I said sincerely. “I’ll remember that.”
As I entered my bedroom and caught sight of the robe I'd discarded earlier, I couldn't help but lift it to my face, breathing in deeply. Bergamot and cedar, with that indefinable note that was just him. My chest ached with a longing so acute it was almost physical.
In less than twenty-four hours, he'd be gone.
Back to Avaline, probably flying first class or on some private jet with real silverware and champagne that cost more than my first car.
By this time tomorrow, he'd be halfway across the Atlantic, while I'd be in the Dark Room with strangers who wouldn't know my name.
A month from now, would he remember me at all?
With a heavy sigh, I dropped the robe and headed for a quick shower to wash off the chlorine from the pool. The hot water pounded against my shoulders, rinsing away the afternoon but not the memories of Ricard’s touch, his voice, the way he’d looked at me this morning as if memorizing my features.
Tomorrow’s Dark Room assignment might be just what I needed. No names, no faces, no emotional entanglements. Just bodies seeking pleasure in the dark.
That's what professionals did, right? And according to my roommates, that's what I was now. A professional. End of story.