Chapter 23
It haunts her for days, this awful knowledge that Dieter has spewed upon her. Parts of her wonder if he’s lying, just pulling her chain to make her all twisted up about it, frazzled and unsettled. Another of his games.
The other part of her desperately hopes he’s lying, because the very thought of it being true makes her feel ill inside.
How could someone do that to their own son, all for power and influence? How?
This doesn’t even account for the dark insinuation Dieter made about the Judge and her accident. He’s fucking with you, that’s what he likes to do, Kara tells herself. Of course, he is; he must know what people whisper about his mother. He knows it adds to his aura of danger.
The only way she’ll know once and for all is to ask the very person it all concerns; Nicholas Havenwood-Calais, son of the absolutely foul Delphine, if the tale is to be believed.
“Well, there’s no use tormenting yourself,” Kara mutters as she paces back and forth in her apartment, trying to build up the courage to put the final nail in this coffin of information. “Just confront him about it.”
Yeah, how is that going to go over, idiot?
She acknowledges that it’s going to be bad no matter what. Never has Nick ever wanted to talk about his personal life, aside from what Kara already gleaned. He never spoke about his family. Now she understands why.
The same reason she never speaks about her father and mother to just about anyone. Because her story is ugly and unlovely and people don’t want to hear those sorts of broken stories. No one but a psychologist does…and that’s because they’re paid to.
Nerves on edge, Kara dials his number.
“I need to talk to you,” Kara says into the mouthpiece of her cellphone, anxiously rubbing the back of her neck.
“Seeking more professional knowledge?” Nick sounds vaguely amused. “I ought to start billing you for my time, associate .”
Oh please. “Last we met, you asked to meet me . Shall I send you the cost for my time?”
He makes a sarcastic scoff. “That ought to go well. Let’s meet up and charge each other for our hourly rates for the hell of it. A meeting between lawyers, but make it sleazy and expensive. Well . I’m expensive. You? Not quite.”
Rolling her eyes, Kara says, “Look, this isn’t work-related, smartass.” Kara tries to sound confident, not wanting to tip him off to anything unusual. She tries a different angle, more shocking. “I just want to see you.”
For a moment, there’s no response. Then, inhaling sharply, he takes the bait. “Come over then.” With a certain ease, he invites her back to his place, where she hasn’t been since they were last together. In that way. “You remember where I live, Kara.”
Yes, she does. The memory is bittersweet.
She knocks on the door, stomach churning, feeling uneasy. This isn’t a conversation she wants to have with him, but she can’t keep it to herself anymore. She wants to talk with him, understand him, and be there for him. She wants to understand if this is why he is the way he is, if it’s all because some part of his life got broken, just how her life hit road bumps and fists along the way to adulthood.
Kara imagines he’s the sort of man who would never seek help for whatever anguish and trauma got foisted upon him. He probably locked it all up, filled with anger and self-loathing. He turned his pain outward.
He turned his loathing against other women.
A female voice calls through the shut door, “It’s open!”
The blood drains from Kara’s face and she debates turning and running away. God. Claire is over. What is Nick thinking?!
As much as running is looking attractive right now, Kara is no coward. She’s not one to walk away from an awkward situation, no siree. Taking in a deep, calming huff of air, Kara turns the knob and steps into the perfect condo, instantly being bedazzled by how perfectly white and modern it is, smelling clean and fresh, as if the cleaning staff already came.
In the doorway, she politely takes off her shoes and puts them to the side, mentally trying to prepare herself for this unexpected drama. Fuck . How is she going to bring this up with Claire around? The madwoman is probably going to hover around them obsessively- and Kara can’t blame her.
Claire is sitting in the main room on the couch, typing away on her laptop as the television plays some high-definition scenery from a tropical country. She doesn’t even look up in acknowledgment. “Kara. So nice to have you come over. Nick and I do get so bored with each other.”
The strange calm in Claire brings Kara’s nervousness down a notch. She moves past her mortification quickly, looking over at the refined woman and her midnight locks. “ Um . Hi, Claire. I didn’t know you were, I mean, I’m only here to talk with, it’s nothing, nothing like that -”
Great, she sounds like a blithering idiot.
Claire waves her words away as if they’re an annoyance that she cannot stomach. She calls out towards the bedrooms, “Nicky, your guest is here! Do collect her. She’s being awkward .”
Kara feels her left eye twitch at that. Oh, please. As if there’s anything normal about this situation.
The sound of soft footsteps reaches her ears as Nick comes into view from the hall. He’s dressed in the dark grey sweatpants and form-fitting black shirt that Kara always liked seeing him in. Casual and down-to-earth, but somehow completely attractive and commanding. His broad shoulders, the taper of his waist. The sight of his thick biceps, just at the sleeves-
His eyes catch on her face and he laughs. “Being awkward, is it?” He tilts his head, gesturing for her to follow him. “Come on. We can talk in my room.”
Splendid. They can chat right near his bed. Ugh.
Leading the way, Nick turns back towards the set of bedrooms down the hall, Kara swallowing thickly as she stares at the expanse of his back. This is not optimal, this situation. Dread fills her.
Claire turns her head briefly to look at them, her icy blue eyes without any form of ill-will. “When you’re done, you can come over and sit down by me, Kara. I need an opinion on my new clothing line. You lack fashion sense, I can see that, but I’d be curious to see what you think anyway.”
Kara blinks at her, not fully comprehending. When we’re done with what, what is she insinuating? “Your clothing line?”
Bringing out her large, noise-canceling headphones from a bag beside her -why is she doing that?! - Claire looks at Kara as if she’s exceptionally dim-witted. “You think I sit around and look pretty all day? I run my own fashion brand. Bit out of your reach, but I can probably get you a purse or two someday.” When she sees Kara’s slack, confused expression, she makes a frustrated sound. “JonDe’Mare? Ring a bell in that twisted little skull of yours?”
Claire JonDe’Mare. Oh. Oh, lord . When her thoughts come back together, Kara blurts indignantly, “Why the hell are your jeans like seven hundred dollars? Do they make you shit gold? I mean, really .”
“Pish posh,” Claire replies waving her hand vaguely, perfectly done French nails flashing. “I do vaguely like you. Go see Nicky. I have my headphones; I won’t hear you.”
Red-faced, Kara hisses, “I told you, I’m not here for that!” This woman is insane! Is she literally that uninterested in Nick? How is that even possible? But then, she remembers how Claire told her she has other men in her life, and Kara just…can’t even cope with how Claire treats her relationships.
She can’t cope with how Nick treats relationships either, but Kara hopes she can change that about him.
The headphones go on and Claire winks at her before settling back to her work on the laptop.
“Unreal,” Kara mutters harshly under her breath, heading into Nick’s bedroom, where a terrible conversation awaits.
At least Claire won’t hear it.
“I honestly can’t believe she’s real,” Kara tells him, faintly appalled, jerking her thumb to the open door. “She’s marrying you and she’s just like, ‘ oh, go in there with my husband-to-be. Do your freaky shit, maybe I’ll give you a six-thousand-dollar purse in payment .’ I’m literally insulted.”
The best part is that Kara doesn’t think she’s supposed to feel insulted. Claire was being genuine.
Nick is sitting neutrally at his desk, traditionally handsome in that stone-cut way of his. The scent of his cologne fills the room, tangling itself into her senses deliciously. She loves how he smells. Expensive and mysterious. Sophistication and ruggedness, mixed with danger. It brings back memories of dark nights and sinful events. Skin and teeth, exquisite pleasure. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. It’s an arranged marriage.” He drawls with one eyebrow cocked. “What do you expect?”
Spluttering, Kara replies, “Some…some… dignity ! At the very least.”
There’s a soft laugh, a smirk on his lips. His eyes are warm and Kara hates herself for having come here to bring up something truly dark, something darker than anything they have ever shared together. Something abhorrent.
He isn’t prepared. There’s no preparing someone for this conversation. Her insides are ragged and spikey, but if she doesn’t do it now, she never will. And she’ll never know the truth.
“Why are you hovering in the doorway picking at your fingers?” Nick drawls, eyebrow raised.
Kara stops picking at the skin around her nails. Crap, she’s already giving away her anxiety. “ Um . A momentary malfunction.”
“I see.” He doesn’t. “Shut the door.” Nick’s tone is a demand.
For once, Kara isn’t in the mood to fight him. She does as she’s told, carefully clicking it shut, staring at him the entire time. Trying to see this man in an abusive past, sold out by his mother. Her stomach turns and sadness pricks at her eyes.
“No complaints? No refusals to do as you’re told?” Nick stands up slowly, making his way over to her, using his body to intimidate in a manner that normally makes her knees weak. His voice dips, husky. “How unlike you.”
If he thinks this is unlike her, wait till he sees what’s up next in her box of terrible tricks.
Nick leans over her, smelling of that perfect cologne that still haunts her dreams. He leans down, slowly, as if to avoid scaring her-
She holds up a hand and hates herself for it. “Excuse me. I came here to talk to you. About something serious. I intend to do just that.”
He pauses, staring at her upheld hand as if it’s something offensive. At least, that’s before he determines she’s playing one of their games, that she’s falsely refusing him. He grabs her wrist with a dark smirk and moves it out of his way, leaning down to press his lips against hers.
His body is firm, a solid weight as he pins her against the door. Pleasure unfurls within, soaring like a bird in the sky. The feel of him, the scent of him. It feels like he’s surrounded her, God, yes-
His hands, roughly running down her sides, feeling her curves. Her nipples prick and Kara bites back an indecent sound. The feel of his body pinning her makes her insides quiver. No, no, she needs to control this. She moves her head to the side, escaping his seeking lips, hands pushing at his chest urgently.
“Nick, Nick- stop.” Another searing kiss, his tongue pressing against hers playfully. “ Look , I’m fucking serious, I’m not playing around here-”
He presses her up against the door, his mouth at her throat, sending fire licking through her senses. “When do we ever play, sweetpea?” It feels perfect, each kiss against her throat leaving fire in its wake. The desire he inspires within her, open and wanting.
Unable to take it any longer, she pushes him away and says harshly, “I know . About what happened. When you were a boy.” The way he stiffens and stares at her with something cold and unusual in his gaze nearly makes her stop talking altogether, but Kara soldiers on. He doesn’t move towards her, seemingly frozen. “And…and I wanted to see if we could maybe talk about some of the things that we don’t like to talk about. With anyone. Because we don’t like people to know. This is something we can share between us, to...I don’t know. Heal . Clear the air between us. See why we are the way we are together.”
Nick pauses and examines her as if he’s trying to figure out where she’s going with all this. To be fair, she’s being rather vague, because who just comes out and says, look I heard you were abused, wanna chat? “What is it you think you know?” His gaze is cagey and narrow, as if trying to pretend he isn’t unsettled by what she’s laid out.
She bites her lower lip, preparing herself. He might have a meltdown when she brings this up. She has no idea. “Dieter and I had a conversation…”
A sneer shapes his perfect lips. “ Splendid . Was it a conversation with his tongue in your cunt?”
Trying not to turn red, Kara holds her ground against his typical defensiveness. “It was a conversation about you . About when you were younger.” She takes a deep breath, because she can already see the walls going up in his gaze. He’s on edge now. “I know about the Judge. And I’m not talking about your fucking monster of a mother.”
The way his face pales, expression going rock solid, pupils going to pinpricks…it’s true. The flex of his throat, the way he goes tense. There’s no hiding his reaction to her words. There’s not a single utterance falling from his lips. Nothing. Only silence as he stares at her.
After his visceral, yet wordless reaction, Kara says his name carefully, trying to get a verbal response.
The one she gets is not the one she planned on. Nick grits out, “Get. Out.”
She holds her ground. “ No . I’m not letting you push me away. You want us to be something, like you claim? This is step one, Nick.”
“Fine.” He moves her aside and rips open the door, leaving the room, striding out aggressively. Kara stares with an open mouth. Did he just run away?!
After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she chases after him, saying, “Where do you think you’re going?! Nick !”
He’s by the front door, putting his shoes on-
Claire is blinking with confusion on her face, gaping as Nick walks out the front door without another word to either of them.
A moment of silence falls between the two women.
“I’m not sure that’s a talent, making men run out on you,” Claire says unhelpfully, headphones now around her neck. “Heavens, what on earth did you do?”
Numbly, Kara races to the door, putting her shoes on hastily. “It’s not what I did, it’s what I said.” She didn’t think he would actually ditch out on her!
Claire huffs out a large breath, shaking her head. “Must have been something to make him run off. Normally, he just gets defensive like a hedgehog. Well. You know.” Yeah, Kara has an idea.
“I’m trying to help him. I want to help him get help for his…whatever. Proclivities for desiring simulated nonconsent. It stems from his past and-”
“His twisted fetish, mhmm .” His fiancée is making a pitying face in Kara’s direction now. “I thought I already told you once; Nicky can’t be fixed.”
Scowling with one hand on the doorknob, Kara replies, “How do you know that?”
Claire places a fingertip at her chin in thought, looking upward. “Well, I don’t know, I suppose. I haven’t tried.”
“Exactly! Maybe someone should!” Kara snaps, slamming the door, chasing after Nick. She’s not about to let him escape this conversation. Not when she’s so close to a breakthrough with him, after all this time.
Running to the elevator, she looks to see where it went; down to the garage level. That sneak, he’s trying to completely drive off and leave the building! Urgh . Smashing the button, Kara waits for it to come back up, dashing inside, hitting the button to close the doors quickly. It feels like an eternity as it descends downward, down to the underground parking garage.
When she steps out of the elevator, Kara darts around, looking for that fancy car of his. Thankfully, it isn’t something that can be easily missed, being flashy and dark red. There’s the screeching of tires on pavement and Kara hears the car before she sees him.
Around the corner he comes, making the turn sharp and hard, showing his clear agitation. The engine purrs, the tires squeal, and Kara throws herself right in front of it, hands on her hips, daring him to fucking run her over.
The sportscar comes to a screeching halt.
Rolling his window down, Nick snarls, “Have you lost what little mind you have? Get out of the way, Kara.”
Her stubbornness intensifies. “I’m not moving. You can’t just run away from this conversation your entire life! I’m the person who wants to help you, Nick. I’m literally the only person who wants to pick you apart and fucking glue you back together! Don’t you get that, you ass?”
His lips press into a thin line, eyes hard. His hands are tight on the steering wheel. “I don’t need to be glued back together.” The denial is strong with this one.
“Oh, nice .” Kara’s tone takes on furious sarcasm. “You think you’re fine the way you are then? You like being the sort of man that normal women fear?”
“I already told you I don’t enjoy being the way I am. But I do like that I can be myself with you .”
Quickly coming around to his side of the car, Kara leans into the window, just so he can’t blast off and avoid her. “See, isn’t that important? It means something -”
“Christ, you and your fucking meanings,” Nick hisses, eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets. He’s still trying to push her away, but he’s not trying hard enough. Underneath his tough exterior, he wants her to save him.
He wants her to be the one to see into him and understand him.
“Hey. Hey. I get it. I’m the fucking underdog who just won’t quit. I know this is painful, I know this is a traumatic subject. All I’m asking is that you open up to me, just a bit.” She leans into the window and presses a kiss to his ear, uttering, “Please?” She doesn’t say please often, so he better appreciate the effort.
Staring straight ahead, Nick ponders his options, eyes dark and unreadable.
When he turns his face to meet her gaze, his blue eyes are like razors. “How’s this for fair play? We’ll go to your place and talk it out if you’re so eager to drag us both over glass.”
A flash of panic, bright and sudden. Kara feels her fingers clench on the window of his car door. “My place?” She’s never had him over, ever. Too afraid, too untrusting of him as a person. He took advantage of her in the limo, that’s how they met . He picked her up like a piece of candy from the street. He forced her to suck his dick. He got off on being rough with her. Then, after he got what he wanted, he paid her like a whore. How could she ever feel safe with him being able to come to her place whenever-
You felt safe enough to fuck him in dark alleyways, Kara.
But, I always had a place to return to, so I could lick my wounds in private. A place he couldn’t follow.
He can see her hesitation and goes in for the kill. “You really want me to open up?” Nick’s lip curls like that of a vicious dog. “You first .”