Only Skin Deep (12 page)

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Authors: Mahalia Levey

BOOK: Only Skin Deep
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Pushing
the covers down,
Deja
climbed out of the humongous
bed and padded quietly over to Derek’s computer. The chair squeaked as she sat
in it and flipped the button to power on the desktop.

“Beautiful, get in bed.”

“Ears
of a bat,” she muttered, continuing to log into her accounting system. Thank
goodness for remote accessing. If she was correct, she had enough saved for the
next few semesters of college, her brothers’ music lessons, braces and her
parents planned anniversary party. The younger siblings weren’t much trouble
since she only paid for their cell phones and activities if they needed extra
dough. She created a new spread sheet, adding her expenses for her family,
doctor appointment fees, vitamins, approximate cost for delivering a baby,
hospital stay and items needed for newborn care. Crunching numbers had always
been her thing, but looking at the list in front of her, she wondered if she
had enough saved to get by or if she’d have to take out a loan for her family.

“Stubborn
woman, what are you doing out of bed?” Derek moved behind her, to peer over her
shoulder. “What’s your itemized list for?”

“Worried
about taking care of my family is all.” She swiveled in the chair to face him.
“But it’s nothing for you to be concerned over, I’ll figure a way. I always
do.”

“Couples
figure things out together beautiful.”

Deja
didn’t like how Derek glanced over her list. “Hey.”
She covered her hands over the screen, flashing a frown at him. “My financial
issues are none of your business.”

“I
beg to differ. Look, you’re supposed to be in bed so why not lay down and prop
up with my lap top if you have to.”

Deja
glared.

“Not,
trying to start a fight, just following doctor’s orders.”

Derek’s
attempt to control the situation grated on
Deja’s
nerves. Part of his controlling obsessive compulsivity was adorable since no
one ever told her what to do. Her family assumed she could take care of
herself. “I don’t want to fight either.” She huffed out an exasperated sound of
annoyance. Her emotions wobbled like a yo-yo doing an around the world trick.
Worrying was what she did best, besides sharing her fabulous fashion sense.

“Why
do you try so hard?”
Deja
had to know. It wasn’t as
if she didn’t vocalize her wants and dislikes, yet he tried to trump her every
damn time. What did he stand to gain by staying by her side other than an
unplanned child and his life for the next twenty-years tied to hers like a ball
and chain.

“What
do you mean exactly?”

“Us.
You.
Me.”
Deja
powered down his desktop and slid out of his chair. Her head hurt, her stomach
rumbled. The rumbling grew louder and the hand she’d placed on her belly to
silence it epically failed.

“Because I love you.”
He chucked her chin.
“Soup or sandwich?”

“You
can’t just say words like that, and then ask me what I want to eat.”
Deja
stood from the chair, walked the few short steps to
his bed and climbed in, resettling herself under the covers.

“Simplicity, beautiful.
I love you, so I attempt to make
sure you’re taken care of.” Derek crossed over and handed her two remotes for
his plasma television.

“Even if it’s not returned?”
A flash of hurt crossed his
expression at the question, which made her want to take it back. Where did the
bitch in her come from? He had a better control over his emotions than she did
though, with the way he ignored the snarky barb. When he leaned over and kissed
her head, she wanted to egg him on further. She wanted to demolish the bounds
of his restraint.

Ah
but, forehead kisses always left her mushy. They were the one sign of affection
that showed someone cherished you.

“Pizza
please,” she choked out, uncertainty coursing through her.

“All right.
Pepperoni and extra cheese it is. Try to take a
nap. I think I’ll go pick up, instead of having delivery.”

“Y-you
don’t have to do that. You can order in,”
Deja
rushed, stumbling over her words as guilt kicked in. She rolled the hem of her
shirt in her fingers, though unseen.

“Yes,
I do. You need a time out, and I need some fresh air. While I’m gone try to
answer this without lying to yourself… Why is it okay to admit you love me and
accept my love for you, when we’re making love and then deny us that same
happiness the rest of the time we spend together? I’d appreciate knowing, so I
can figure out how to steer away from those landmines when we’re out of bed.”

Deja
watched her man leave after he said those words. Once
she heard the firm closing of the door, she was left to her thoughts.

Expectations
terrified her. Her family certainly didn’t expect her to bring a white boy
home, that’s for damn sure. Sunday dinner would be extremely tense. Yeah, she
knew Derek enough to know if he realized the extent to which she provided for
her family he’d have choice words about it. The result would be war.
Him vs. them.

Their
disappointment was evident when her past relationship failed. Her ex studied at
the same African American college she attended, and was their idea of the
perfect black man. They had expected a big wedding and were shocked she’d
declined his offer. Telling them about her dreams didn’t matter nor did telling
her ex. He was determined she’d be a nice addition to his arm for functions
with his desire to run for politics. Her dreams didn’t matter.

On
the surface he was great, in private his personality changed to a cold
indifferent man. Sure he showered her with attention on his terms. When the
cheating started she knew spending the rest of her life with a man like him
would kill her. She deserved better and refused to settle for less. Her family
blamed her for the breakup, even her grandmother.

Now
pregnant she didn’t know what to do or what to make of her new life. Whatever
choice she made would pave a different path than the one she’d plotted in
advance.
Neat and nice.

Really,
her reasons went much deeper than skimming on the surface, but she didn’t feel
like traipsing down memory lane. Her head hurt. All she wanted to do was take a
nice long nap, wake up and not have her life crumbling to pieces around her.

Maybe
when she felt a bit better, she’d call
Nadja
. She’d
left a message for Barbie to keep the store open normal business hours and
she’d be in as soon as she could. Hiring another girl might not be such a bad
idea. At least Barbie knew she could call on
Taleena
or
Nadja
if needed and they’d pitch in.

The
smell of pizza wafted in the air. Derek returned. Upset from her earlier
actions, acid from her rebellious tummy threatened to spill up. She blindly
reached for the antacids in her purse and chewed a few down. Even with a revolting
stomach the need for greasy pizza won out. “That smells delicious.”

“How
are you feeling?” Derek asked, handing her a plate with two large slices.

“Tired and hungry.”
Deja
accepted
gladly.
Delicious.
Gobs of greasy cheese and crisp
pepperoni sliced rounds peppered the thick slice.
Sinful
heaven.
Taking a big bite, she moaned in satisfaction.

So
good.”
She
licked sauce off her finger. “Thank you for going to get this.”

“You’re
welcome.” Derek ate his own slice opposite her.

He
looked so serious, she knew he wanted to rush things, to talk more, and it
formed a knot of panic within her. Her pizza became lodged in her throat. She
had to swallow hard to get the food down. Ignoring her palms beginning to
sweat, she took smaller bites under his quiet scrutiny.

“We
have plans to make,” Derek said, returning to the pizza box to get another
piece, his gaze not wavering from her.

“About what?”

“I’d
like you to think about getting a sports utility vehicle or a truck. I don’t
want you pregnant and getting stuck in bad weather for a second time.”

“I
have a perfectly fine car,”
Deja
argued.


Riiiight
.
That’s why you ended up
in the hospital? Your car will be fixed in a few days
Deja
.
I’m just asking for you to give some thought to a better vehicle, one that
would better suit children anyways.”

“Derek.
I haven’t even decided if I’m keeping the child. This is premature. I—this is
just really sudden, not at all what I’d planned.”

“What
the hell do you mean? You’re not keeping our baby?” The barely constrained rage
in his voice scared her.

Deja
squirmed and shrugged.
“Nothing,
never mind.”
She shoved pizza in her mouth for something to do, not able
to meet her lover’s disturbing gaze.

“You
definitely meant something.”

Swallowing,
she took a tentative look up. “You’re pushing me too fast. Just stop.”

“After you explain your remark.”

“Jesus,
Derek.”
Deja
rose from the bed and left the room, to
get away from him. Appetite gone, she needed space for a few minutes. He,
however, didn’t think so, since she turned and smacked into his chest. Derek
steadied her with his hand but didn’t drop the hold on her arm. “I left to have
a few moments to myself.” A red flush stole across her face.

“You
left to run.”

“You
are the most controlling ass I’ve ever met. I was talking about getting an
abortion,”
Deja
snapped at him.

“You
wouldn’t.”

“Why not?
Women choose that option all the time. I’m career
oriented Derek, not family oriented. Not at this time in my life.”

“You’d
abort my child?” he asked on a snarl.

Deja
knew she treaded on dangerous waters. The timber and
break in his normally whiskey smooth voice sent shards of unease down her
spine. “If I thought the decision best for me, yes.”

She
watched the control he held in check disappear. Hurt and rage simmered in the
depths of his gaze. His presence in front of her changed. In fear of what he’d
say or do, tension rolled thick and heavy making breathing difficult.
Would he hurt me?
The question ran
through her brain, his sudden silence further terrifying her. His body language
had her backing away from him, but his grip tightened on her arm, the only
thing keeping her rooted in place.

“You
want me gone?
Forever out of your life?”
Derek pressed
forward until her back hit the hallway wall. “Do. It. Then.” He struck the wall
beside her head.

The
sheetrock at her back vibrated. “Derek,”
Deja
began.

“When
I get back, I want you out of my place. You know where the phone is, call a
cab. I can’t deal with you right now.”

“Derek
don’t
… I’m sorry.”

“Are
you really? Somehow I have my doubts. I never believed you’d be so cold
Deja
, maybe scared but cruel enough to throw my words back
in my face and then tell me you’d have our child ripped out of your stomach and
thrown in the garbage. I know now where I rank in your life. I’d be a fool to
stick around.”

Deja
watched him walk out of his own home to avoid being
near her. Suddenly she felt vile. When he didn’t return some ten minutes later,
she gathered he meant what he said and called her sister for a ride home. The
feeling of extreme loss surprised her. She hadn’t anticipated the desolation
that crept in, making her weepy. In the back of her mind a tiny voice
questioned her reaction and her motivation to keep so much of herself locked
way, inaccessible to another.

Derek
deserved better for a multitude of reasons.

Telling
herself she’d be all right got her through the first hour while she waited for
her ride. Would anything get her through her lonesome days? Or seeing him when
she saw her friends? If she chose to keep their child could she take seeing him
while she was no longer part of his life?

What have I done?
Deja
curled into a ball in his bed and hugged the pillow, with his scent all over
the casing. As sleep dragged her under, she didn’t have the will to fight it.

 
 
 

Chapter Three

 
 

Derek
sat on a stool at the bar of Club Mist swirling a shot of whiskey. He’d lift
the two ounce glass up, sniff the strong spirits and then set it back down to
stare intently at the contents. Anger clouded his judgment and hurt seized his
heart. In his gut he hoped she wouldn’t get rid of their child.

A
small amount of guilt tugged at him for demanding she be out of his place by
the time he returned. In one moment, when he had her against the wall, all the
progress he’d made in the past ten years disappeared. In his place
was the angry unrepentant, authority hating
young man he was
before.

Derek
had no choice but to leave his own home to regain his senses. An agitated groan
escaped his mouth and he slid his hand in his pocket to flip his sobriety
medallion between his fingers. The overwhelming urge to say fuck it and slip
into a drunken stupor called to him, but the angel on his shoulder advised him
to reconsider. So there he sat, alone at a
hoppin

bar contemplating his next move.

“Hey bro.”

Derek
glanced up and saw
Nadja’s
man.

Donato
.”
He returned to staring at the amber liquid
in the clear glass.

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