Page 31 of Ronny

He has the lights dimmed in the bathroom and the tub is filled with bubbles. “Thank you for taking care of me.” I lean up on my toes to kiss his cheek, his jaw has a slight stubble on it where he hasn’t shaved yet today.

He holds on to me as I step into the warm water to make sure I don’t fall. The moment I slip into the warm water, I groan at the feeling against my sore muscles.

Once I’m settled, he slides in behind me, my back pressed against his front. His arms wrap around me, cupping my pussy. “I’m sorry if you’re hurting.” His voice is filled with regret.

I giggle. “I’m not, and I’m not even that sore. I like the way I feel,” I reassure him, and lean my head back so I can see Ronny. He looks down and smiles at me.

“If you say so,” he agrees with me. “No sex tonight, though,” he tells me, and I smirk at that.

“We shall see.” His body shakes with laughter.

I pull up in front of a run-down house. The stairs look like they’re one nail away from collapsing. Some of the boards on the porch are missing, someone could fall through and break their legs.

I pull out my report, noting the hazard. The front door has the doorknob missing, so someone could bust in the door and get inside easily.

I sigh and knock on the door, though through the thin, boarded door I can hear someone cursing. Footsteps can be heard pounding all the way to the door.

The door is thrown open so hard that it falls off its hinges and a ragged woman picks it up, settling it against the door like that it’s normal for your door to be broken off like that.

“Fuck, one of those suit bitches are here to take my kid?” She sighs like I’m the biggest inconvenience and it’s normal for someone to just take their kids.

“Hi, my name is Olivia and I’m with child protective services.” I pull up her file that I printed off which states she gave birth to a baby two weeks ago. Someone reported abuse, which is why I’m here.

She rolls her eyes before they meet mine fully, and those eyes hit me right in the pit of my stomach, because they’re the first set of eyes I have seen that are identical to Ronny’s. This woman is probably in her late forties and she has seen better days.

She steps back and allows me to enter the house. I eye the name on the file and it takes everything in me to not ask if Ronny is related to her.

Those eyes are just like his, but her ones are filled with hatred at the sight of me. She leads me through the house. The floor doesn’t even have any carpet or flooring and the house is super warm to the point it’s uncomfortable.

In a bedroom, she points inside where the baby is lying in the center of the floor in a dog bed.

In a fucking dog bed that is unsafe, where the baby could be smothered. “This is not okay. A baby should not be lying in a dog bed, ma’am. It’s not safe,” I tell her, and I walk over to pick up the newborn baby. She is so tiny.

Her little face is so dirty, telling me this abuse case was legit when someone reported it. I hold the baby close to my chest, noting her diaper is overfilled and hasn’t been changed in God knows how long.

She woman rolls her eyes again and it pisses me off so much, I want to punch her lights out.

“Is this your first baby?” I ask her, swallowing hard to control my rage. I have seen worse cases but this one is hitting me hard.

Her bedroom is threadbare, I don’t see any diapers in sight or baby clothes, and there is a dirty bottle lying on the floor by the dog bed.

“This is my first kid, though I did help take care of my nephew when he was little before he was adopted by some rich fuckers.”

I try not to show my anxiety at her words. “What was his name?” I ask, pretending to make conversation.

“Ronald. He is a pro hockey player now,” she says so casually, like it’s no big deal that she treated her nephew like absolute shit.

Right now, me being a social worker is gone out of the window. I look at this precious angel, who is fast asleep and so vulnerable to the world.

It blows my mind how Ronny made it before Bell adopted him. “Go sit on the couch, please, while I make some calls.” It seems that this whole family is shit.

She leaves me in the room, not caring that she is leaving her daughter with a near stranger. She doesn’t care. She hasn’t changed since she had Ronny and it pisses me the fuck off.

Who do I call?

Do I call the police, or do I handle this MC style?

Then I decide.

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