Page 36 of Absolution

“What the fuck have you done to my truck,” I yell out the door of my trailer. Ratchet looks up from the heap of car parts lying around him and just smiles.

“Good morning to you too, Siren. How did you sleep?” he smiles, while cleaning off the engine grease on his hands with a rag from his back pocket. He tosses the rag aside and just smirks back at me.

“Don’t you dare try to play this off, Ratchet. Why are these engine parts all over the ground? I may not be a mechanic, but even I know that doesn’t go there.”

“It needed a tune up, amongst other things,” he coolly replies. “The brakes were shot, the alternator was about to go out any second, and I don’t think the previous owner changed the fucking oil since the day this thing came off the dealer’s lot. It’s a miracle it’s still running.”

It should have been a warning sign, when he came to me a few days ago with the copy of the truck’s title in hand, and also demanding a copy of my mother’s death certificate, that he had plans for the old beater. How he even found that is beyond me, but he did. Surprisingly, my mother did actually own this hunk of junk. Ratchet had me sign the title amongst other documents, before whisking them away in the promise that he would handle the Department of Motor Vehicles for me. Maybe I should have asked more questions, but if it kept him occupied for a few hours, then so be it. I hated that place; even here it wasn’t as bad as California. If I didn’t have to go to the one government office that was modeled after the pits of hell, it was fine by me. But this was just way too much.

I just stare at him in shock. It’s been a week since I let him into my life, and he has taken it upon himself to just impose in every facet of my life. First, he fixed the plumbing on the trailer. Then it was the roof. After that, he convinced Willie to switch me to the afternoon shift, which I protested. The money was better at night, but Ratchet’s overprotective ass didn’t want me around that kind of a crowd, after what he witnessed the night with Johnny. And now he’s fixing my truck. Well at least I hope he’s fixing it.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the work that he’s doing, but it is all so unnecessary. This trailer would have better served as ash once it’s purpose was fulfilled, but he didn’t see it that way. Ratchet took one look at the place and his inner handyman came out. I think if I hadn’t have distracted him the last few days, then this place would have looked like it belonged on the front page of Redneck Home Weekly.

The house was one thing, but the truck is a completely different story. It’s my only means of transportation, aside from his bike. Now that I think about it. Maybe that was his intention all along. If I was dependent on him, he could invade everything in my life. Fucking asshole.

“You could say thank you, Siren. I’m trying to make this thing safer for you,” he suggests, slamming his hand down on the metal exterior.

I glare back at him in return. His intentions of stranding me here are as clear as day on his face. Every time that I have tried to leave for work, he’s tried to use his dick as a means to keep me here. Not that I minded, but at the same time, I needed to make money. Without that, Asher would have to stay in my father’s care another day longer than necessary.

“And how exactly will I be getting to work?” I question him. “This doesn’t exactly look like I will be driving it anytime soon, Ratchet.”

“About that,” he smiles, wiping the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “I didn’t think that it was going to be this bad, until I started really looking at it. It’s going to be a couple of days before I finish up.”

“I guess I could take your ride.”

“I’ll take you, Siren. Not a big deal,” he replies, without a clue at what I just said. Autopilot answers are about to bite him in the ass.

“That’s not what I meant.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me as confusion clearly paints his face.

“I didn’t mean taking your bike as in riding with you. Since you took my ride, I am going to take yours.”

I step off the porch, heading towards his precious ride. He stands stoically, trying to figure out if I am bluffing or not. It isn’t until I swing my leg over the warmed red metal tank, that he suddenly takes action. He strides across the driveway towards me with a look of concern plastered on his face. Playing along, I run my fingers toward the ignition switch just as he reaches me.

“This is how you turn it on, right?” I innocently ask, before turning the switch. The engine roars to life between my legs, and his eyes widen. Moving my hands to the grips, I outstretch a finger across the brake. “And this is the gas.”

“Hang on just a fucking minute, Siren,” he yells over the sound of the engine. “You can’t take my bike.”

“Well you took my truck. It’s only fair.”

Ratchet reaches down and switches off the engine.

“While I would be happy to teach you how to ride, this isn’t the kind of bike you try to learn on. You need something with a bit less power and weight to it. Had you popped that kickstand, I would have had to haul this thing off of you.”

“I think I could handle this bike just fine,” I argue, knowing that this is going to annoy him even more.

“If you’re going to handle anything, it’s going to be me. Now, why don’t you slide right off that seat, and let me show you how we handle things around here.”

“That an offer?”

“Get your ass off my bike, and you’ll find out, Siren.”

I smile back, and do as he asks. As I pass him, I can feel the arousal radiating off of him. As each day passes, the passion that I feel for him grows exponentially. For the first time in my entire life, I feel loved. Though he has never said it aloud, I know he feels the same way. He may never say it, but as much as I am his, he is mine. One heart beating in two different bodies.

I get a few feet away from him, and bolt for the door. The chase is on, but he soon catches me. His arms envelop my body, as his mouth descends on mine in the hallway to the bedroom. I rip his shirt over his head and he undoes his jeans.

My fingers trace the edge of his boxer briefs, before sliding inside. I wrap my hands around his thick cock and begin to stroke him, feeling the quickening pulse of his arousal. His head falls back with pleasure, but he quickly snaps back and looks at me.

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