Page 10 of Ripper's Property
He turns, wiping his black greasy hands off on a shop towel. “Why don’t you go ask Rip for one?”
His tone is sharp, but I don’t blame him. He got reamed out for being nice to me this morning.
“Because Ripper will tell me no.”
“Is what he said true?” He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and hands me one.
I’m not sure what he’s talking about. “What he said about what?”
“That you want him.”
He told them! Ripper told them what I wrote in my diary.
I swallow hard, my nerves starting to shake. “When did he tell you this? What exactly did he say?”
“Told us this morning. He made his claim and said that you had feelings for him.”
He made his claim?As in he wants me to be his old lady? What the hell?
Last night he was fucking Cherry against the pool table. Probably spooning her in her bed the night before, and now he’s going to claim me. Why? Because he read my dirty thoughts in my diary, and now, what? He thinks I’m naughty enough to be his? Or is it because he realized the sweetbutts are nothing but whores after what I said?
Not sure what flipped his switch, but I’m not just some possession he can “claim.” I want love and romance. I want a guy who spends his time thinking of ways to make me happy, not a guy who spends his time in someone else’s bed.
“Whether I have feelings for him or not is irrelevant. I don’t want to be with a guy who spends all of his time fucking the sweetbutts.” The man I choose to be with will only have eyes for me.
“You have to know it’s just sex, Rory. I may fuck the sweetbutts to get off, but I care about you. And if I thought I had a chance, I’d stop fucking them.”
And that right there is the problem. He’s no different than Rip.
“Maybe I’m naïve to love, Skeet. But I just think that when you have feelings for someone, you don’t want to be with anyone else. If I were in love, I wouldn’t go around fucking every prospect in sight, waiting until the day I could claim the man I want. I’d save myself for that person. I’d want them to feel special.”
I wouldn’t be able to be intimate with anyone else. The only man I’ve wanted is Rip, and I can’t imagine being with any of the other guys. Even if it was just for casual sex. I couldn’t do it. Which is why I don’t trust Rip’s feelings for me. It feels like a political move, not a move of love.
“And let me tell you something.” I want to leave him with one last message before I go. “Those girls inside are not just spreading their legs for sex. They’re spreading their legs in hopesfor a ring. They want to be chosen. So, you guys need to get your shit straight. You don’t realize it, but you’re fucking with their emotions. I know for a fact that Shiloh has feelings for you.” He’s been in her bed every night for the last month. This claim that he cares about me is bullshit. Because if he cared, he would’ve spent those nights with me. Talking under the stars. Getting to know me better. I thought Rip cared because he was doing those things. But come to find out, he was going inside, sliding into Cherry’s bed, and holding her every night instead of sneaking into my room and cuddling me. “So if you don’t reciprocate those feelings for her, you need to make that clear. Shy’s one of the nice ones, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
I grab the pack of smokes from his hand and his lighter, then turn toward the lake, tossing a “Thanks for the smokes” over my shoulder. I light one up and let the burn fill my lungs, holding it in, hoping the nicotine will calm my nerves. It’s been one hell of a day. First with Cherry this morning, then with Rip, now with Skeeter.
I feel like my emotions are spinning in circles, getting hung up on the fact that Ripper made his claim to the guys right after threatening me last night that he’d lock me to his bed while he let Cherry get her fill. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but he can kiss my fucking ass if he thinks I’ll be his. I’m not gonna be some old lady locked at home while her husband is at the clubhouse fucking all the free pussy in sight. No thanks. I want to be my man’s one and only.
I plop down on the grass, savoring the crisp air as the breeze whips through my hair. The lake is so serene. Calm. A light ripple of water comes to shore, and I wish that was the way I felt. It feels like a tidal wave is rushing through me.
I’m so confused. I don’t understand men. And they clearly don’t understand women. Both Skeet and Ripper were fucking girls last night, and now today, they claim to want me. Feelslike testosterone competing for dominance, rather than men wanting to win my heart.
The low rumble of motorcycles breaks through my thoughts. It sounds like the guys are back. I take in a drag, listening to the engines cut. The sound of the guys’ deep voices all greeting each other.
“Where is she?”
That’s the voice that makes my nerves feel on edge as the butterflies leave their angry cocoon inside my stomach and start flapping their wings, gaining speed as the heavy footsteps get closer. The branches and gravel crunch under his big feet, and I take the last drag of my cigarette before I snub it out on a rock and flick it toward the trees so he doesn’t catch me smoking. I tuck the pack into the pocket of my sweatshirt and blow out the smoke.
“What are you doing out here, baby girl?”
I was trying to find some semblance of calm, but now that he’s shown up in his black leather jacket and low-riding jeans, looking dangerously sexy, that calm is nonexistent.
“Came down here to be alone.”
He sniffs the air as he moves in, stepping in front of me and forcing me to strain my neck to see him. “Smells like smoke. You been smokin’?”
“No.” I shake my head, but I should just cop to it. I’m old enough. And if I want to be treated like an adult than I need them to see me as one, take responsibility for my choices and prove that no one’s going to tell me what I can and can’t do. Guess I’m just not in the mood to argue with him again. I’ve reached my quota of emotional turbulence for the day.
