Hot Fudge And Peppermint Part 15

Bill, a pathetic victim of life?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

Bill forced himself to sit right there, waiting for Nik to respond. He wasn't normally like this. Normally he didn't mind confrontation and was confident of his ability to come out on top. But not with Nik. She mattered too much, and this wasn't a war of words. This was life.

She frowned in what seemed like puzzlement and finally said, "I'm sure you are like your mother in some ways. I don't see much similarity, though, other than that you probably get your coloring from her. What about her is so upsetting?"

Oh, geez. She was going to be polite about it! "You saw her, Nik! You know what she is -" He hated to say the words, but he just knew she was going to make him do it. "She's white trash, plain and simple, and so was Pop. I'm their kid, and that makes me white trash, too."

She wrinkled up her forehead and nose and stared at him, but not like he was an animal at the zoo, the way the nice girls at home always had. "That's ridiculous. Labeling never does any good. You're a smart guy - you know that. You're who and what you make of yourself, just like everybody else. And maybe your mom's not as sophisticated as the Worthingtons, but everybody is different and has their own good points."

How the heck did she think she could get away with lecturing him about this c.r.a.p? "Tell me, little miss professor's daughter, exactly what is so great about Ma? She's a lush, she talks like a caricature of a redneck hillbilly, and she'd have let Pop beat her to death rather than lift a hand in self- defense." They'd see what the little white bread princess thought about that!

She didn't react, d.a.m.n it. She just came right back at him with, "She loves you, Bill. And she's proud of you. And if your father was as much of a jerk as it sounds like, then she must have been a pretty good mother. Because you didn't get to be the decent caring person that you are without someone helping you along the way. Maybe she didn't always make the right decisions - and maybe she still doesn't - but she's your mother and she deserves your love and respect."

"I know that! I take care of her - I've done it since I was fifteen. I got her a nice apartment and a new car when I started to make money, and I send her a check every month - usually two." She couldn't say that wasn't enough.

"You see her what - maybe once or twice a year? And when she comes to town, I'll bet you're careful not to let her meet anyone you know."

"She sees Rachel."

She acted like that wasn't important. "Well, of course - she's her grandmother." She paused and thought for a few seconds. "But that's not the real point here. The point is that you seem to think that because you come from a poor background, it makes you somehow inferior, and that's simply not true. If anything, it makes what you've done with your life even more impressive." She undoubtedly intended that in a different way than he took it. "Oh, yeah, I've done great things. I've taken advantage of several hundred women, I've skated on my brother's reputation most of my career, and then I blackmailed my way into a promotion. All I need to do now is ruin your life, and I'll have a perfect record."

This whole talking deal was overrated. Nik couldn't possibly accept the real him, and nothing she said could convince him otherwise.

Nik wasn't going to let Bill make her lose her temper. She could tell that was what he was after.

Something inside made him need confrontation - or was it distance? In all they'd shared so far, his background had been conspicuously missing, and now she might understand why.

She moved over to the sofa, within reach of him but not touching. "I have a question for you, Bill. Are you looking for a reason to stop seeing me?" She waited until his lips were forming a denial before adding, "Because you don't need an excuse."

He shook his head wildly. "No, that's not it! It's -"

She kept her voice calm, hoping he was rational enough to listen. "In that case, let's drop the dramatics and talk about what's really happening."

"What do you mean?" She had his attention, but she needed to make her point quickly.

Now, what did she want to say? "You reacting so strongly to me meeting your mother seems to indicate that you think I'll feel differently about you, now that I've met her. But I don't, other than to be pleased that you have a mother who cares about you. And like I said before, coming from a poor background isn't anything to feel ashamed about. Lots of people do, and anyone who'd judge you based on that isn't worth worrying about."

Words burst out of him. "It's not just that we were poor. That sucked, but a lot of people in that town were even poorer than us. It's -" His face was tight and his eyes huge and horrified. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and said, "Come on. I'll show you."

He pulled her down the hall to the second bathroom, the one he used when he stayed over. He flicked on the lights, peeled down his slacks and briefs, and bent over. "See? See the scars?"

Her stomach tried to escape from her body, but she forced herself to look. The scars were there, plenty of them, small pale marks covering his b.u.t.tocks and upper thighs. She hadn't noticed them before this, and that amazed her. When she steeled herself to touch a couple of them lightly, she discovered that they were hard and didn't feel at all like normal skin. "I see," she whispered, then tried to pull his pants back up.

He resisted for a couple of seconds, then stood and finished the job himself. "I don't think you really do,"

he said, facing her. "Pop got drunk at least once a week, and when he got home, he'd come after me first. And after he got warmed up on me, he'd move on to Ma. She's got scars all over her body, and some broken bones that didn't heal right because she wouldn't go to the doctor."

The horror was too much to let in all at once, so she focused on a probably-irrelevant point. "What about George? Didn't he get it, too?"

Bill made an unpleasant noise in the back of his throat. "Once in a while, if George did something that p.i.s.sed off Pop. But not as a rule." His eyes narrowed and his face tightened even more. "That's why itwent on so long. I was too little to stop it, but George was bigger. I'd beg him to help me make Pop stop, and he'd say, 'If you don't want to get beaten, stop bugging Pop.' How could I? What I did wrong was to be born!"

She winced and threw her arms around him. His body tensed, but gradually relaxed, and eventually he wrapped his arms around her, too.

Finally, he continued, "The first year George was away at school, Pop was worse than before. He was having a hard time keeping a job, and he spent just about all he made on booze. Anyway, this one night, he was in a really foul mood, and I could tell that he was hurting Ma worse than usual. So I grabbed the sharpest knife we had in the kitchen, snuck up behind him, and held it to his throat. I made him stop, and I gave him five minutes to get out of the apartment. I said I'd kill him if he ever came back."

"That was really brave." She had to ask, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know. "Did he ever come back?"

He blew out a breath and stepped out of her embrace. "Not while I was there, but other times. I could always tell when he'd been there. Ma'd be all kind of giggly, and in a really good mood for a day or two."

He shrugged and walked into the bedroom, where he stood staring out the window. "And when I went away to school, I didn't go home anymore and I'm sure she let him move back in."

"Was he still the same way?" Maybe Bill's threat had led to him reforming.

He almost laughed. "He never changed. He still beat her up whenever he felt like it. He'd be doing it today if he hadn't choked on his own puke my junior year at school."

Nik didn't know what to say. He hadn't told her all this to gain her sympathy. But on the other hand, he wasn't trying to push her away anymore, so she'd made some progress. They'd be okay, if only she could figure out where to go from here.

He stared out the window with an intensity that had to mask emotional chaos. "My whole life, I swore I'd never be anything like Pop. I'd never hurt someone for any reason, much less just because I could. But now I know that's all a lie. I don't use my fists or a belt like Pop -" His face spasmed and he gripped the windowsill so tight his knuckles turned white. "But neither did George. We're both so G.o.dd.a.m.ned smart we can destroy people without getting blood on our hands."

She was completely lost now. He couldn't be right, yet he obviously believed every word he said. It suddenly occurred to her that they were so far into uncharted territory for their relationship that she couldn't remember what used to be reality.

She wasn't going to lose everything now, simply because of emotional overload. She slipped her hand into his. "We'll talk about that later. First, let's lie down on the bed and relax."

He growled and tried to pull away. "I don't want -"

"Shh." She brushed her fingertips across his lips, and a small electric shock pa.s.sed between them.

He turned to her, and the wildness in his eyes was suddenly s.e.xual. He advanced on her with such purpose that she took a step back. He pushed her onto the bed and followed, straddling her body. And then he kissed her with all his desperate anguish.

She thought she might drown.

** Bill was starving for her touch, for her taste, for her soul. He'd been starving forever, it seemed, and only Nik could fill his emptiness. He pressed her down onto the bed, his fingers tangling in her hair, their bodies still much too far apart. Still two separate beings.

He pulled away from her mouth and raised himself on his knees, needing to dispense with their clothes before he incinerated into a pile of ash.

She stopped him with her palm pressed against his chest. "This isn't what I meant, Bill."

"It's what I need." Couldn't she see that? Couldn't she feel it?

She half-smiled. "Wait a bit first. Give yourself a chance to deal with all this."

"I dealt with it a decade ago!" But something nagged at him, saying there was something new. Something other than Pop, and the shame of not being able to stop it from happening. But no. There couldn't be.

It was Nik who couldn't deal with this. "You don't want me to touch you anymore, do you? Not now that you know I'm one of the nasty trashy boys your daddy warned you about."

Anger leaped into her eyes and she shoved him off of her and onto the floor. She sat up and leaned over him. "You stupid jerk. When are you going to figure out that I don't give a d.a.m.n about any of that garbage? I'm sorry for your miserable childhood, and I'm sorry that you have such horrible memories, but none of that changes the fine person you are. And none of it has the least little bit to do with whether I want to make love with you. I do. Very much. I'd just rather wait until it has a bit more to do with making love and a bit less to do with pushing away bad memories."

"That's not -" he faltered. It was. Making love was about two people becoming more than their individual selves. It wasn't about losing oneself in the other, and that's what he'd been looking for.

She moved fully onto the bed and said, "Come lie next to me. I'll show you some simple breathing exercises to help you relax."

But in the end, what helped him relax the most was finally believing that she truly accepted him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

Nik couldn't sleep. For once, it wasn't because her body hurt in more places than she could count. She couldn't sleep because her mind was busy thinking about everything Bill had said - and everything he hadn't. She was almost sorry she'd stopped him before he explained those strange remarks about his life.

Only almost sorry, though. Any more revelations right then would have been too much.

He was sleeping now. It had taken an hour to get him relaxed enough to make love, and more time after that for his exhaustion to finally tip him into sleep. Her imagination made her think he was resting more soundly than usual, now that his past was out in the open. But she knew that was her imagination talking - just like it was saying that their relationship was suddenly much more serious simply because he'd told her about his past.

No. Bill might trust her with secrets he'd rather no one knew, but she would still be crazy to think he'd stay much longer.

It was h.e.l.l being a responsible boss, and even worse having another responsible boss as a lover. Bill wanted to stay right here in Nik's bed all day long, and maybe all week long. She'd been away for nearlya week, and now that he knew she accepted the real him, they had a lot of catching up to do.

Six months ago, he would have done it - or at least put a fair amount of effort into persuading her to agree. But now, when she said she had reviews to write and meetings to attend, he remembered the work that was waiting for him, too.

He wasn't going to give up entirely, though. While they both dressed, he asked, "You're coming over tonight, aren't you?" It was Tuesday, after all.

"The reason I usually see you on Tuesday is because I don't see you on Monday." He heard the smile in her voice. "In case you've forgotten, we spent Monday together this week."

"But we didn't spend the weekend together - or last Tuesday, for that matter." It suddenly occurred to him that they hadn't talked about her health since she got back from Christmas. "You're okay, aren't you?

Your trip home wasn't too tiring or anything, was it?"

"I'm okay," she said, but he wasn't sure if he could believe her. "I don't sleep real well when I'm at Nathan's, so I'm kind of tired." She paused for a few seconds, and he thought about telling her to forget it, that she should get some extra sleep tonight. But he wanted her with him, even if she was too tired to do anything but sleep. "Let's say this - I'll come for dinner, and unless I feel worse than I do now, I'll stay the night. I'll need to sleep, though."

"That's fine. Sleep as much as you want." Anything so he could have her near.

Bill glanced up when someone knocked on his office door. It was Seth. "Good afternoon, Bill. Do you have a few minutes?"

It wasn't much of a question, not when it was the big boss asking. "Sure. What can I do for you?"

Seth smiled as he shut the door and sat down. "Actually, I came by to thank you for your hard work this past year. You know that I was somewhat leery about how you'd handle this project lead role, and I think it's only appropriate for me to say that I have no reservations on that score any longer."

He'd been more than "somewhat leery", but there was no reason to mention that. "Thanks for saying that.

I've done my best."

Seth nodded. "I can see that, and that's why I wanted to give you this personally." He handed him a sealed envelope. "It's your bonus check, and I hope the amount will please you."

That must mean it was more than the measly couple hundred bucks he'd gotten the last few years.

"Thanks. I'm sure it will."

Seth smiled a bit tightly. "There's something else I wanted to touch upon today, and that's your salary.

The details will have to wait until after the first of the year, but I thought you'd like to know that Scott recommended you for a significant raise, and that I've approved his recommendation. We both feel that the new amount more adequately reflects your contributions to the company than what you're currently making."

A significant raise? How much was that?

"One more thing, Bill. I'm aware that you and Scott have had your difficulties in the past, and frankly, that was one of the reasons I was so concerned about giving you this promotion. But I'm impressed with howwell you and he have worked together the last few months, and I want you to know that I appreciate both of your efforts in that regard."

Before Bill could think of an appropriate response, Seth was on his feet and out the door. A good thing, too. Despite the bonus and the promise of a big raise, all his mind could focus on was what Seth had said about Scott.

How on earth could Scott stand to deal with Bill, much less recommend him for a raise?

Nik hoped Bill hadn't been expecting her earlier. She hadn't mentioned it this morning, but she hadn't dared skip her after-work workout. He didn't answer the doorbell right away, and she thought about suggesting that they exchange keys to avoid this ha.s.sle in the future.

But then he opened the door, and the suggestion flew out of her mind. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Something had to be. He was wired like he'd been last night and appeared surprised to see her.

"Wrong?" Awareness popped into his eyes. "You're here for dinner. I'll -" He turned and started for the kitchen.

She hurried after him. "Don't worry about dinner. I want to know why you're so upset."

He clattered around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and cooking implements haphazardly, totally unlike his normal self. She finally stopped him by taking his hands in hers, pulling him into the dining area, and pushing him into a chair. After a moment, he nodded and said, "You're right. It would take too long to cook. We'll go out."

Before he could stand up, she stepped in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders. "Dinner can wait, Bill. What's going on in your head can't." He didn't say anything, so she asked, "Does this have anything to do with the stuff we talked about last night?"

He groaned and dropped his head forward. "I'm a d.a.m.n fraud, and Scott knows it, but the jerk's too d.a.m.n nice to do anything about it!"

A connection clicked in her head, one that was so awful it couldn't possibly be real. "You said you blackmailed your way to your promotion. You didn't mean that literally, did you?"

He raised his head slowly, until he was looking straight in her eyes, and she suddenly knew what his answer would be.