Skin Deep

by Evans, Anna J.

  “I think you should watch your mouth and remember what we decided about this.”

  “No one tells Nicky to watch her mouth. Except me.” Jackson stepped closer, until he loomed over the much shorter Derrick. “You’re not in charge here anymore.”

  “Nicole, outside. Now. Obviously your memory needs a little refreshing.” Derrick barked the order with as much authority as ever, but Nicky saw the spark of fear in his eyes. He saw there was a bigger dog in town, hence the sudden urge to get her alone.

  Fine with her. He was playing right into their hands.

  “May I go, Master?” Nicky turned back to Jackson, lingering on the last word.

  Derrick had always wanted her to call him “Master,” but she’d refused. She was a submissive, and she loved to be mastered, but for some reason the term never tasted right in her mouth. “Sir,” she liked just fine, but “Master” made her feel too much like one of those male slaves who went around licking their mistress’s boots. Or the hunchback guy that worked with Frankenstein.

  There was a face she didn’t want in her head during sex.

  “She can go.” Jackson put a hand at the small of her back as she faced Derrick once more. “But if you hurt her, I’ll make you bleed.”

  Jill’s eyes widened into big blue saucers, making it obvious she’d had even more work than Nicky had thought. No one’s eyes were naturally that big.

  “Touch me and I’ll have you thrown out of here so fast your head will swim, he-man,” Derrick said, his voice shaking the slightest bit.

  Nicky stifled the strange urge to giggle. He-man? That was the best insult he could come up with on the spur of the moment? This was the dom she’d lived in fear of for years? He was nothing but a sad, insecure little man.

  She’d been a fool to fear him, but that was ending right now. It was payback time.

  “Make your threats,” Jackson said, his tone still calm and even. “But make sure you listen to what Nicky has to say and know that I back her up completely. She’s not a powerless woman you can get away with bullying anymore.”

  Truer words had never been spoken. Even without Jackson there beside her, Nicky knew what he’d said would be true. She was different, tougher, and as ready as she’d ever be to finish this thing with Derrick.

  “Come with me, Nicole. Jill, wait at the bar.” Derrick turned and headed for the front door.

  Nicky took one last look back at Jackson, drawing strength from the confident expression on his face, and followed.

  Her heart raced as she tailed Derrick back through the crowded lounge area. The bar and surrounding tables were packed and the alcohol flowing. It was only a matter of time before everyone would be loosened up enough to start heading back into the playrooms. She knew how these things worked. She used to be one of those people who needed a few glasses of wine to be in the mood to start a scene, but not anymore. Now, just a look from Jackson, just a few well-chosen words, were enough to banish all of her inhibitions.

  “I’ll be coming back in,” Derrick said to the bouncer at the exit before shoving past, not bothering to hold the door for her. But then, manners had never been his strong suit, and he wasn’t exactly a happy camper right now. She took a deep breath, hoping that unhappiness would work in her favor.

  “I’ll be coming back in, too.” Nicky smiled at the large man working the door, and obediently held out her hand to get it stamped for readmission.

  “The door closes in thirty minutes, so be sure you’re back before then,” he said, then turned his attention back to the lobby.

  Nicky nodded and pushed through the door, apprehension skittering across her skin for the first time. It was pretty deserted outside the club. Everyone was still going in, not coming out. What if Derrick did decide to take his frustration out on her physically? He’d never hit her before, seeming content to land his blows with harsh words and harsher emotional manipulation, but there was a first time for everything.

  Don’t worry. The boys in the van are watching. You’re safe.

  But the thought didn’t give her much comfort when Derrick spun to face her, anger distorting his features. He barely resembled the man she’d known, he was so furious. It made her mouth run dry, even though she knew she shouldn’t be surprised by the strength of his rage.

  She’d never defied him. Talked back or gone against his wishes when it came to dom-sub stuff, sure, but never when it came to the big decisions. Derrick had always been the walking boss in their relationship, and he obviously didn’t take well to having his authority questioned.

  “What exactly do you think you’re trying to pull, Nicky?”

  “I’m not trying to pull anything,” she said, hating the way her voice trembled. “I just want to see my daughter. I deserve to be a part of her—”

  “You don’t deserve shit.” He stepped closer, and she had to fight the urge to back away. “You violated our contract the day you walked out the door. I don’t owe you a dime.”

  “I’m not asking for money. I just want to be Abby’s mother.”

  “You think you’re fit to be Abby’s mother? A slut like you, out getting her ass spanked at some club by a complete stranger?” Derrick moved nearer still, until she could smell the alcohol on his breath. “I saw you on the bench. You were grunting like a pig when you came. It made me sick to think my daughter came out of that diseased hole between your legs.”

  “I am not diseased,” Nicky ground out through gritted teeth. “And if going to clubs is a problem, I’ll stop. Though I have to say it seems pretty hypocritical that you get to whore yourself out with some blond chick, but I—”

  Her words ended in a gasp as Derrick’s hand snapped out, catching her across the face. Her right cheek burned and her ears rang from the impact, but she still refused to let herself back away. Instead she stood up even straighter, glaring into his eyes, hoping the camera was catching every second of his abuse.

  “Watch your mouth,” he panted, his breath coming as fast as if he’d just stepped off the track. He was weirdly out of breath for a man who worked out three times a week. But maybe he’d given up the runs along the beach. He certainly looked a lot thinner than he had just a few weeks ago. “You’re the whore.”

  “I never touched another man while we were together, Derrick. I know you can’t say the same. You weren’t faithful to me, so in my book that makes you the whore.”

  Nicky was prepared for the blow this time, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Stars danced behind her eyes and her cheek-bone throbbed. The second slap was going to leave a bruise.

  Good, it’s just more evidence against the bastard.

  The thought made her smile. “Do you hit Abby, too, Derrick? Is that the kind of father you are?”

  “I treat Abby like a princess, the way I treated her mother until she broke her vows.”

  “Keeping her away from her mother isn’t treating her like a princess,” Nicky said, mind racing, trying to figure out what to say next. She had to get tape of Derrick threatening Abby, not just slapping his ex-wife around. The danger to Abby was what she needed to prove to the court so she could have sole custody of her daughter. “She needs me in her life. I was home with her every day since she was born. She must miss me. It must scare and upset her to—”

  “I’m going to say this one more time—Abby is better off without you. Stay away from her, or you’re going to be very, very sorry. I can promise you that.”

  Oh, god. This was it. This was it.

  “Nothing could make me more sorry than missing any more of my daughter’s life,” she said, the tears in her voice as real as the words she spoke. It had only been three weeks since she’d seen Abby, but it felt like a lifetime.

  “Your daughter won’t have a life if you keep this up, Nicole.” He smiled, a cold sneer that made her heart ache. This was the bastard she’d chosen as the father of her child. Abby deserved so much better. “I wasn’t making idle threats when I said I’d kill her before I’d let her be raised,
even part-time, by a slut like you.”

  “Derrick, listen to yourself. That’s our baby you’re talking about, an innocent child. How can you even—”

  “If you don’t sign the divorce decree in the next week, or if I find out you’ve hired a lawyer to try to get joint custody, Abby will have a horrible accident.” He paused, eyes drifting to a place above her head. He sniffed and swiped the back of his hand across his nose. “I was thinking the pool out back. She’s crawling so fast now. If the nanny were to leave the door open and turn her back for a few minutes . . . well, it doesn’t take that long for a child to drown.”

  Her throat grew tight and tears stung at the back of her eyes, but Nicky didn’t cry. What Derrick said wasn’t going to happen, she wasn’t going to let it happen. “You’re a monster.”

  “Well, maybe.” He shrugged, and his smile returned as his eyes met hers once more. “But I’d rather Abby be raised by a monster than a penniless whore. At least she’ll have a chance at a future, to grow up to be something more than a tramp who takes her clothes off for money.”

  Nicky swallowed the retort on the tip of her tongue. He didn’t care to make the distinction between a model and a stripper or he would have done so. Arguing with Derrick was a waste of time.

  She had what she needed. Derrick’s threats were now captured on tape. If all was going according to plan, Christian was already on his way to the house to get Abby. She could walk away right now and never say a word to this bastard again.

  Instead she stood her ground. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much unfinished business there was between the two of them. But now, all the questions she hadn’t dared to ask in the last pain-filled two years flooded to the surface, demanding she at least speak them aloud, though she had little hope of receiving any satisfactory answers.

  “Why do you hate me so much?”

  His bloodshot eyes widened the slightest bit before narrowing once more. “I don’t hate you. Hate is a powerful emotion. I feel nothing for you except disgust.”

  “Then why didn’t you ask for a divorce sooner? Obviously our marriage wasn’t what either of us—”

  “Our marriage was fine,” Derrick said, the emotion in his voice surprising her. “Everything was fine until you up and left with our daughter.”

  “Derrick, our marriage was not fine,” Nicky said, doing her best to keep any accusations from her tone. “Nothing I did seemed to please you. Not since I got pregnant with Abby.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “You didn’t even want to touch me. We hadn’t had sex in nearly two years by the time I left. How can you call that—”

  “So you wanted to get fucked? Is that it?” he asked, taking an aggressive step forward. “Well, I’ll fuck you right now if that’s what you want.”

  “No, it isn’t.” This time, she took that step back her mind was screaming for. A slap or two she could handle, but if Derrick tried to touch her intimately she’d take Jackson up on the offer to make him bleed. “But when I was pregnant with Abby, and just after, I wanted to be close to you. And sex is a big part of that. Sex is part of a good marriage. Surely you can’t disagree.”

  Derrick’s eyes dropped to the pavement between them, and he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. For the first time, Nicky noticed that it was thinning on top. Derrick was twelve years older, but she’d never really thought about the age difference until now, when he suddenly looked far older than his thirty-six years.

  “I just . . .” His voice trailed off, but Nicky didn’t push. Pushing Derrick was a good way to make him angry, not a way to encourage him to talk.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Several uncomfortable seconds passed until he finally spoke again. “I just didn’t want to hurt the baby. I was . . . and you looked so different. Then, by the time she was born, it just seemed like we’d lost our place. You were so focused on the baby and . . . it hurt. I felt like you didn’t need me anymore.”

  Of all the things she’d thought she’d hear tonight, Derrick opening up about his feelings was the very last. She was stunned.

  “I needed you more than ever,” Nicky said, then pushed on, refusing to let Derrick play the victim. “But it seemed like you hated me. I mean, talk about hurt. Every time you told me how unattractive you found pregnant women or women who had just had a baby, it felt like I was being cut open. It hurt. So much.”

  He finally lifted his head, facing her with uncertain eyes. “What if I said I didn’t mean it? That I was just . . . that I’d made a mistake?”

  “What?” She could safely say she’d never been more confused. What the hell was he saying?

  “What if I said I didn’t mean all those things I said, or the stuff about Abby?” He paused, licking his lips, the words obviously far from easy to say. “Would you think about coming back?”

  “You want me back.” Nicky didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, or both. “But you’re the one who filed for divorce.”

  “That’s only because you left me. How could you just leave like that, Nicole?” he asked, his anguish clear in his voice. “I came home from work and you were just gone. I thought someone had kidnapped you at first. I was scared out of my mind.”

  “I was scared, too. I was afraid you’d do something to me or Abby if I told you I was leaving.”

  “You should have known I’d never hurt you. Ever,” he said, the passion in his eyes making it clear he believed every word. He reached for her, but she stepped away again, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “Derrick, you hurt me with your words for years and you just hit me—twice.”

  “I was just angry. You don’t know what it did to me, seeing another man’s fingers inside my wife. It made me crazy.”

  “Crazy enough to threaten to kill our daughter? Was that something you didn’t mean, too?” Nicky held her breath, wondering if the men in the van were still recording, and how this little development would impact their case against Derrick.

  If he confessed to lying about intending to kill Abby, would that make a difference to the judge who reviewed their case? Had she endangered her future with her daughter because she didn’t know when to keep her big mouth shut?

  “Come back to me. Come home with me right now, and you’ll never have to find out.”

  “I can’t come home with you. I—”

  “Of course you can. Ditch that caveman and come home. We’ll send the housekeeper over to your apartment to get your things tomorrow.” He paused and a real smile stretched across his face, reminding her for a brief second of the man he’d been when they were married. The man she’d thought she’d loved. Until she’d reunited with Jackson and remembered what real love felt like. “You could be holding Abby in half an hour. Hell, you can even bring her into the bed to sleep with us if you want, the way you wanted to do when she was teething. She’s missed you so much, I know she’ll be—”

  “No,” Nicky said, hoping he heard the finality in the word. “No, Derrick. I’m never coming back to you. I don’t love you anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”

  His smile faded, and the terrifying Derrick returned. “Is it that man you’re with? Are you in love with him now?”

  “Yes, I am,” she said, the words out of her mouth before she could think better of them. It only took a few seconds for her to realize the error of her ways, but by then it was too late. Derrick’s hands were already latched around her throat.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jackson was through the door the second he heard Nicky cry out, cursing himself for letting her stay outside so long. He’d gotten the call from the van five minutes ago. Everything had gone according to plan and Christian was already on his way to get Abby. There was no reason to leave Nicky alone with that waste of human flesh a second longer.

  But he’d wanted to let her handle the situation, show her he believed she was strong enough to manage Derrick alone. After all, he was going to Miami in a few days. He wouldn’t be here to help
her anymore. She’d have to stand on her own.

  But she’ll have a restraining order by then, jackass.

  He was a jackass, and now Nicky was going to have the bruises to prove it. Some dom he was, letting another man get his hands around his submissive’s throat.

  Jackson charged toward where Derrick had Nicky backed against the brick wall of the club with his fist raised. He’d warned the bastard he’d make him bleed if he hurt Nick. Now he was going to prove he was a man of his word.

  “Jackson, wait,” Nicky shouted as she shoved her ex-husband’s hands from her throat. Derrick slumped forward, collapsing against her. “I think he’s passed out or—Ohmygod.”

  Derrick suddenly began to shake, his entire body jerking like he’d stuck his hand in a light socket. He fell to the ground, still convulsing, eyes rolling back in his head.

  “What’s happening?” Nicky flattened herself against the wall, staring with wide eyes at the man at her feet.

  Jackson reached over the twitching body and grabbed Nicky under the arms, lifting her over her ex. “Go, tell the woman at the desk to call 911.”

  She nodded and turned to race toward the door, but not before Jackson saw the red swelling on her left cheek. The bastard had hit her. She’d have a bruise tomorrow at the very least, if not a full-on black eye. The knowledge would have been enough to make him knock Derrick out—if he hadn’t been out cold already.

  “Piece of shit,” Jackson muttered as he knelt by the other man, who was finally lying still. A check of his pulse revealed he was still alive—unfortunately—though his heart was racing like he’d just run a marathon, not spent a few minutes slapping around his wife. The speeding pulse didn’t seem natural for a young man who looked to be in fairly good shape. Neither did the cold, clammy skin.

  His suspicions were confirmed when he gently pried open Derrick’s eyes and found them bloodshot and his pupils widely dilated. He’d been on something, probably cocaine if Jackson had to guess. That would certainly explain the racing heart and the out-of-control temper.