Ricochet (24 page)

they lay there in silence for a moment, enjoying the

spanking afterglow.

Then Matt glanced up at him. "You're such a

good actor, Rick. I mean, I'm always aware of it

when we're filming, but just now, playing that

scene, it felt even more real. How did you get into

acting in the first place?"

"I had an inspirational teacher," Rick said

evasively.

"Really? Go on!" Matt settled into his arms,

his body fitting snuggly against Rick's chest.

"Where - at high school? Or college? Did you go

to theatre school?"

Rick hesitated for a moment, and then decided

he didn't want to lie - not to Matt. "No, I didn't

learn acting at theatre school, or in high school, or

college, Matty. I learned it in prison."

Matt glanced up in surprise. "Prison?" he

repeated blankly.

"Yup." Rick had gone very still, and he

moved his arms so they weren't holding Matt

anymore, clearly giving him room to leave their

protective circle if he wanted. Matt stayed where

he was, trying to process this new information.

"Uh… why… I mean - what did you do to end

up in prison?"

"Mostly petty theft," Rick said. "Burglary,

shoplifting, stealing. That landed me in juvie, and

when I was eighteen they decided I was too much

of a badass to unleash back on the world, so they

sent me to jail."

Matt twisted around so that he was facing

Rick, ignoring the spike of discomfort from his ass.

"Really? You were a thief? You?" It was hard to

imagine big, goofy Rick breaking into someone's

house and stealing from them.

"Sure. I picked the lock on your trailer

earlier, didn't I? Some skills you never forget."

Rick gave nonchalant shrug that Matt could see hid

a whole raft of emotions.

"How long ago, Rick?" he asked quietly.

"I got out of jail twelve years ago and

promised myself I'd never go back."

"Go on." Matt put a hand on his arm, wanting

to hear more. He had never heard Rick talk

honestly about himself - usually he was too busy

playing stupid tricks and entertaining them all on

set. Matt couldn't remember Rick ever really

sharing any details from his past and now he knew

why.

Rick glanced away. "I got into a lot of trouble

as a teenager, shoplifting and pick-pocketing, and

when I was sixteen I graduated on to actually

breaking into people's houses. I got caught and was

sent to juvie, but instead of keeping my head down

and trying to convince them I was a reformed

character, I acted out and got into even more

trouble, fighting with the other kids and generally

being an idiot." He shrugged. "So when I was

eighteen, instead of releasing me they transferred

me to an adult jail, and I did two years there

before I finally came to my senses. It's a miracle

the press hasn't found out and made a big deal

about it, but I figure that's because the juvie

records are sealed."

"You've never talked about it."

"No. It was a long time ago, and it's not

something I'm proud of." He finally looked at Matt,

hesitantly, as if unsure of his response. "You're the

first person I've ever told, Matty."

Matt squeezed his arm to reassure him. "I'm

not judging you, you know that."

Rick nodded. "Yeah." He let out a deep

breath. "Yeah, I knew you wouldn't, Matty.

Underneath all that fire and brimstone, you're the

kindest person I ever met."

"Can you tell me about why it happened?"

Matt asked gently. "Do you want to? You know I

won't tell anyone else."

"I know." Rick cracked the fingers on his left

hand and then moved over to the right. Matt put his

hand over Rick's fist to stop him, and Rick nodded

and took a deep breath. "Okay, well, on my

sixteenth birthday my dad threw me out onto the

street," he said unexpectedly.

"Your dad threw you out? Why?" Matt asked,

horrified. His relationship with his mother was

complex, but he had always felt loved and cared

for. He couldn't imagine a parent throwing their

child out onto the street to fend for themselves.

"Well, I'd started answering him back, and he

didn't like that. Also, I was too old to be cute, so I

wasn't any use to him anymore. I came home one

day to find my bags packed and waiting for me on

porch. He told me it was time I made my own

way."

"Any use to him how?" Matt frowned. "I

mean, you were a kid - how were you supposed to

be any use to him? He didn't…" He looked up

anxiously.

"No - fuck no! - nothing like that," Rick said

quickly. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about him.

He threw me out, and I didn't know what to do, or

where to go. We were always moving around, and

I didn't have any roots or any friends to turn to. I'd

barely gone to school - Dad didn't care if I did or I

didn't so…" He trailed off with a shrug.

"So there was nobody in your life to notice

you were living on the streets?"

"No."

"And that's why you started stealing?"

Rick nodded. "Yup. At first it was just to eat,

but I admit that after a while it became addictive. I

liked the thrill, the adrenaline rush, and the sense

of taking what wasn't mine. I was an angry kid,

Matt. I wasn't like I am now. I hated the world and

everyone in it, and I wanted the world to know it."

"And you got caught."

Rick laughed. "Hell yes! I was assigned a

social worker and given warnings but eventually

they lost patience with me and threw me into a

juvenile detention facility. I thought that was bad

enough but I had no idea how much worse prison

was going to be in comparison. If I had, maybe I

wouldn't have been such a stupid idiot in juvie."

"Shit, Rick. I had no idea."

"Just a few days before my eighteenth

birthday, another kid picked a fight with me on

purpose - it was kind of a thing the other kids did -

taunting me until I lost it. It was sort of a badge of

honor to win a fight against me because I was well

known for being a badass in juvie. Anyway, like

an idiot I responded with my fists and beat up the

other kid pretty bad, so instead of being released

on my birthday, I got sent to prison. I hated losing

my freedom and being locked up like an animal,

and I hated the warders and the discipline. There

is nothing good about taking judicial discipline. It

just hurts - and that's the damn point."

Matt tried to imagine what a fucked up young

teenage Rick had been like but it was hard because

this picture Rick was painting of himself back then

was so different to the laidback, fun-loving guy

they all knew so well now. "So what happened to

you the other night after the speeding thing must

have really brought back some bad memories for

you," he said.

"Yeah. I was glad you came around with that

pizza, Matt; it took my mind off it."

"So how come you learned how to act in

jail?" Matt asked, with a little grin.

"Well, I was wild, bad, and really not very

nice." Rick grimaced. "And I might have gone on

like that if it hadn't been for Monica Andrews. She

ran a theatre class in the prison. I didn't want to do

it - I thought acting was a load of crap - but they

were trying to rehabilitate me, and I got credits for

attending, so I went along, intending to misbehave

and get thrown out, and instead... "

He paused for a moment, and there was a

naked honesty in his eyes that made him look very

different to the Rick that Matt was familiar with.

"Instead I found myself," he said quietly. "I

found myself in that grey little room, with this tiny

woman I could have broken in two with my hands,

who had this giant personality." He gave a tight

little smile. "She showed me a way to let out all

my rage about how life had treated me up to that

point - and, man, I had so much rage inside that it

took a long time to get it all out. She might have

been small, but she was the toughest dom I ever

met, and I grew to love her. She never put up with

any of my shit, and she never let me get away with

being less than brutally honest in my acting

performances. I was this fucked up kid, and she

saved my life in a way. She told me I had a gift for

acting, and she encouraged me to do some

schooling and turn my life around."

"Where is she now?" Matt asked.

"She lives in a retirement village in Florida,

but I go and visit every hiatus, and she loves

Collar Crime
! She's always boasting to all her

friends that she taught me how to act, and it's true -

she did." Rick gave another of those tight little

smiles. "When I got out of prison, she let me stay

with her while I was trying to get my shit together.

I got a job as a waiter - well, a series of jobs

because I got fired a lot. I still got into trouble - I

wasn’t

magically

cured

even

with

her

encouragement and support; I had to make a fair

amount of trips down to the Justice Hall but not for

anything bad enough to get me sent to jail again.

Each time she'd get in my face about it, but she

never gave up on me. Finally, I started getting little

acting jobs, learning my craft, and eventually I

ended up here, which I still can't believe." Rick

waved his hand around the trailer. "None of this

would have happened without her."

"She gave you your first big break." Matt

smiled and patted his arm.

"Yeah. Yeah - that's exactly what she did."

Rick nodded. "You know, I keep wondering when

everyone is going to wake up to the fact that I'm a

giant fake. I feel like one day I'm gonna get found

out, and people will realize that I'm that angry kid

from the wrong side of the tracks and throw me

back into jail, where I belong."

"So you buy the biggest TV screen, and ride

around on the biggest Harley you can find, and act

like a total goofball to make sure nobody gets to

see that angry kid inside?" Matt asked.

"I guess." Rick shrugged.

Perhaps it was surprising that Rick had told

him all this, but somehow the surprising thing for

Matt was how natural it felt. Maybe it was the

degree of intimacy that the spanking had given

them - or maybe it was because Rick had put his

handprints on his body, but this conversation felt

easy and unforced.

"How about you, Matt? How did you get into

acting?" Rick asked.

"Nothing as interesting as your story," Matt

replied. "I guess…" He thought about it for a

moment, but Rick had been brutally honest with

him, and he felt his friend deserved the same in

return. "I guess I wanted someplace where I didn't

have to be me. I wanted to feel free, to get away

from my boring everyday life and be someone else,

even if only for a short time."

"Someone who doesn't count, or obsessively

tidy up?" Rick gestured at the pristine interior of

Matt's trailer.

"Yes." Matt glanced around the trailer.

"Although there's nothing wrong with being tidy

and wanting some order and structure in your life,"

he said defensively.

"Nah - there isn't - but clearly there's also

some inner you clamoring to let rip and go nuts!"

"Maybe there is, but that inner me scares me.

Better to keep him chained up and out of trouble, I

think." Matt made a face.

"Did what we did just now scare you?" Rick

asked.

"Are you kidding? I was scared out of my

skull! I got this glimpse of what it would be like to

lose myself, to be out of control, and that freaks me

out." Matt wrapped his arms around his knees and

clasped them close to his chest.

"Maybe you don't want to be in control all the

time," Rick said. "Maybe that's the attraction."

"I like being in control," Matt said

defensively. "I couldn't live like you do, Rick,

hurtling from one disaster to another."