Only Skin Deep (17 page)

His
cell chimed, the caller identification showing the club’s number. Only one man
would call him from there.
“
Donato
.”

“Thought
you should know there’s some dude asking about you. Says he’s been in town a
few days, saw you here the other night. He asked one of the bouncers if he knew
your number or address.”

“Could
be an associate or someone I do business with. They know I travel frequently.”

“What
do you want me to tell him?”

“Nothing.
I’ll be down there in a few.” After emailing Phil,
he’d questioned if anyone left a negative response to anyone planning on
setting a meeting in town. Knowing Phil’s tight schedule, he opted to shut down
his computer and then check on
Deja
. When she didn’t
stir, he jotted a note for her in case she woke to find him gone. Confusion
pricked at his brain at how the stranger had followed him and he hadn’t
noticed. Traffic moved quickly. He turned on the jams and got lost in old
school rhythm and blues, giving him the calm relaxing vibe he needed.

Ten
minutes later and after hitting every red light on the way, he pulled into the near
empty parking lot of the club, turned off the ignition and headed inside.

Derek
grinned at
Donato
and shook his hand. “
How’s things
?”

“Goin’ good.
You look better than last time I saw you.” They
walked into the club together.

“I’m
doing much better. Thank you.” He nodded at Tomas, acknowledging the man’s
presence.
Nadja’s
entrancing voice filled the room as
she sang for the early evening patrons.

“She’s
practicing a new set again. I’m glad she’s working it here and not at home. She
gets so stuck on perfection I could sing the songs in my sleep.” Derek craved
the love
Nadja
and
Donato
shared,
the openness. Never was an emotion as destructive as
envy.

“Nothing wrong with wanting to do your best.
But I’d suggest
investing in some of those gel earplugs.”

“That,
my friend, is an outstanding idea. Thanks. He’s over there in the corner.
Odd that he didn’t pick a front seat.”

Derek
followed
Donato’s
gaze.
Fury
whiplashed through him.
His body stiffened and he couldn’t hear anything
but the sound of his heartbeat slamming against his ribcage. Years of honing
his indomitable temper failed him.

As
Donato
braced his hands on the bar to order a drink,
Derek took advantage and swiped the man’s 9mm out of the holster. In a few long
strides, he stopped at the far corner booth, gun pointed. Concentration honed
only on the bastard who had the nerve to show his face. Filled with icy rage,
he cocked the hammer. Cold metal met his former best friend’s head. He heard
Donato
order
Nadja
to his
upstairs office, and the sound of music tapering off told him she’d listened.
Tomas and
Donato
were only a few steps away from him.
Donato
sounded confused and pissed, the other
bouncers moved into his line of view, steadying their guns on him.

“
Bro,
put the safety back on. We can handle whatever this is
a better way.”

The
click of a second and third hammer met his ears. “Put the gun down Micah or
I’ll blow his fucking head off.”
Donato’s
second
right hand stood to the side of him. Derek stayed his gaze on Patrick.

“Man.
Don’t
kill
me. We were brothers once. I loved you. I
never meant for what happened that night to go that far. You were never
supposed to get hurt. I didn’t have a fucking choice.” The bastard began to cry
thinking his tears meant a damn thing to him.

“Why
the
fuck are
you here? Why now?” Derek tapped the
front of the gun on the man’s head. His former friend moved. “Keep your hands
up, I don’t trust you,” he snarled, pressing the steel harder into the man’s
head. “
Donato
, clear your club this isn’t going to
end pretty.”

“Derek,
c’mon man. Whatever this is isn’t worth going to prison for. Trust
me,
you don’t want blood on your hands.” Micah’s attempts to
deescalate the situation came a decade too late.

“Trust
me, I won’t go to prison for ending his life. No jury alive would convict me.
Get out of the seat Patrick and kneel on the floor.”

“Boss,
want me to call the cops?”

“No
we’ll keep this in the family. Clear the club like the man says, Tomas. Derek,
I’m asking you for a second time to take the gun off his head.”

Derek
breathed in and out fighting to clear the haze of blinding hatred. His hand
shook with his rage but looked sure and still on Patrick’s head as he moved to
the floor, hands in sight.

“I
came for forgiveness. Your ma told me where you were. That you’d set up roots
here. She agreed to talk to me, forgave me. Man, we had good years together. I
just want to go back to when we were tight.”

“My
ma’s an upstanding Christian woman. I’m not a forgiving person. Take
your
I
’m
sorries
elsewhere they’re unwanted here and useless. You were dead to me years ago.” He
spoke with a vehement edge of steel hoping to relay a final message.

“I
had to try once.”

“Get
up slow. Put your hands on the top of your head and walk out. Contact my mother
again and I’ll hunt you down and kill you. Look back at me and I’ll plug a hole
in your forehead. Forget I exist.”

Derek
kept the gun trained on his foe. Patrick placed his hands to the top of his
head and began walking. As the man walked, he shook. The smell of urine hit his
nose. He released the hammer, clicked the safety switch, then set the gun on
the table the moment Patrick exited the club.

“
Nadja
love,”
Donato
called on his
intercom. “Come on down babe, the problem’s been contained.” He turned a stone
face on Derek. “You get the fuck up to my office now.”
Donato
took apart his gun, cleared the chamber, placed the lone bullet back in the
magazine and inserted it back in place.

Derek
followed a few steps behind
Donato
watching the man
click the safety and return the piece in his holster. He met
Nadja’s
worried gaze as she passed them on the stairs
halfway. Guilt filled him for terrifying her, no doubt he’d be read the riot
act or worse by her man and then by his pregnant woman once he got home. Every
action had an equal reaction, both positive and negative.

Donato
poured himself a shot of whiskey and sat down behind
his desk.

“Want
to tell me what the fuck that was all about before I beat the shit out of you?”
He tossed back the drink.

“You
could try to beat the shit out of me but you’d fail. What happened was private
and between me and Patrick. I apologize for swiping your gun.”

“Cut
the bullshit apology out. Your personal issue became my issue the moment you
cocked the gun at a man’s head in my place of business.”
Donato
paused. “I consider you a friend and as a friend you have a minute to talk.
Make no mistake, I will get those answers. While you’re at it, I suggest you
have a damn good story to tell
Deja
because I assure
you,
Nadja
will call her.”

The
adrenaline rush abated leaving him with a raging headache. He owed
Donato
, though he didn’t appreciate the way he was being
talked to. Talking about the events of that night
were
like reliving them all over again, without an aide to dull the pain of
betrayal. He got comfortable and exhaled a breath. “Patrick was once my best
friend. We grew up together in the same neighborhood. We managed to stay out of
trouble and out of gangs. He had my back. I had his. We were inseparable, until
my mom remarried.

“My
step-father is a good man, better than my drunkard of a father who beat her,
beat me when I stood in front of him to protect her. She’d left him to give me
a better life, knowing he’d kill us if we stayed. The courts made sure he was
sent away, never to bother us again.

“We
moved out of the barrio to an upscale neighborhood. I hated change, hated
sharing my mom, at fourteen who wants to move and start over?
School?
Everything was so perfect I felt like I was in for a
rude awakening, didn’t want to meet people or like them in case we had to move
back to the old neighborhood. It took time to find my place there. Sports gave
me an outlet for my attitude. Life was finally good.

“I
had new friends. They were stupid though. One night they got lost slumming. I
borrowed my step-father’s car to go get them before they got hurt. I grew up
there, knew what went down. When I found them Patrick had robbed and shot them.
He and his new gang buddies killed them in front of me and then turned on me,
the traitor who left the barrio.

“Cops
didn’t come to my old neck of the woods, least not at night. He made me get
down on my knees and shot me in the head. He wasn’t a good shot though. The gun
jammed so the bullet didn’t kill me. An ambulance near the scene showed up too
late for my friends, almost didn’t save me.
The police too.
Seemed they had better things to do than their jobs that
night.”

“I’m
sorry bro.
Damn
sorry. How is he not in jail still?”

“No
witnesses. I was in the hospital for a year. Got a metal plate put in my head.
Had to relearn how to do everything from walking to eating, writing, even how
to speak. My step-father spared no expense in my rehabilitation, plastic
surgery, physical therapy and psychological therapy. When they went to trial, the
gang leaders that goaded Patrick into shooting me were put in jail for life. He
failed his initiation by not killing me, so he turned against them to put the
others away for life. The DA copped a deal, gave him fifteen to twenty since I
lived.”

“How’d
you start drinking if you don’t mind me asking?”

Derek
ran a hand over his head. “Why the hell
not
, I’ve
just told you things I’ve never told a soul since the incident. I drank to keep
the nightmares away, until I became a nightmare to others. Not bullying but
brawling. I can’t begin to count how many hands, heads and knuckles have been
busted against my forehead. Or describe the rage I had a hard time getting a
grip on. I don’t think I’m a hundred percent normal. My step-father must’ve
realized that and worked to build me stronger in the head. My mother was
terrified I’d end up in prison because I couldn’t walk away, had to finish even
what I’d never started.”

“I
can’t begin to imagine what you went through.”

“Wasn’t pretty.”
He exhaled a controlled breath to center
himself.
“Got into kickboxing and sparring to relieve the
aggression that never really left my body, enough to cage the beast in me.
The thirst for revenge didn’t really go away. I had that bastard under me and I
could’ve shot him downstairs. All these years I promised myself he’d pay by my
hand. I had him right there and couldn’t finish him.”

“You’re
not a killer, friend. Be thankful.”

“Man,
what the hell was my ma thinking of sending him here?”

“
Dunno
, but mothers have an uncanny way of being smarter
than we are. Maybe now you can have some closure. By the looks of him, I can
guarantee you he won’t search you out again.”

“Stop
Nadja
from talking to
Deja
,
the last thing she needs right now is this stress with the baby and all.”

Donato
broke out into a grin. “Damn, fucking congrats, man,
that’s great. That’s a reason to let your hatred go right there. Your kid will
need you in their life.”

Derek
leaned his head back. “Yeah, I don’t want that for my family,
Deja
visiting me behind bars. You know how women are?” He
needed a change of subject to formulate what he could tell
Deja
in case he had no other option.

“Bossy?”

“Yeah
and once one is pregnant the others want to be in their circles. You see those
sitcoms on television? Watch.
Nadja
is gonna be in a
baby making mood. I give you a month, two tops.
Gentleman’s
bet?”

“Terms?”

“In
less than a month, your girl is going to say she wants a baby in public, with
others around. When she does you’re gonna owe me a buck.”

“You’re
on. She’s so concerned with her career she won’t ask. She’s all about music
right now.” The very devil walked in as they settled with a handshake.

“I
don’t even want to know what is wrong with you Derek. I’m too excited about the
baby to worry my best friend over some male PMS. Besides, now that one of us is
having a baby, I have to reevaluate my goals. Derek, I won’t worry my friend
with your spastic issues today. But…you better tell her, she doesn’t forgive
secrets and you need someone to talk to.”
Nadja
turned to
Donato
and poked him. “
Deja
and I want to have babies close together so we can have play dates and birthday
parties. Baby, you have to plant one in me, like yesterday. Kick his ass out to
go home to his honey so we can get to work.”

“Damn
dollface
.”
Donato
pulled
out his wallet and whipped out a single dollar bill.

Derek
held his hand out and accepted, tucking the money in his pocket.

“What?
What did I miss?”

“Nothing babe.
Just men being men.
Derek, go home. Clear your head, and call me if you need to talk. Tell Tomas
you’d like to set up sparring lessons with the guys, trust me they’ll be all
over it. We haven’t had fresh meat to fight in over a year. Most guys pussy out
on us too quick.”