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Derreck flashed his gaze to the door, and Scotland struggled not to take a step back. If there was one man in the world he’d never be able to top, it was Derreck. Maddy seemed to have him wrapped around his little finger, though.
Why is Maddy crying? There didn’t seem to be any fresh marks on him that he could see, even if he was mostly clothed, but pain rarely made Maddy cry. In fact, Scotland couldn’t think of a single moment that he’d ever seen Maddy more than a little upset. He was shy, more than anything, and innocent in a way that was rare when it came to kink.
“Am I interrupting something?” asked Scotland softly, preparing to retreat until Clint turned his face toward him. Oh, baby.
Clint’s eyes were bloodshot and dark, the tip of his nose red to match his splotchy cheeks. Scotland caught a look at his hands as he moved, gasping at what he saw.
He was across the room in moments, kneeling on the floor in front of Clint. He grasped one of Clint’s hands, pulling it to him. His skin was hot to the touch with a few blisters surrounded by wax in the center of his palms that looked like he should be in agony. It was the type of burn someone could get when they were fucking around with fire.
His thoughts turned to the scars he knew were hidden beneath Clint’s clothes.
“Jesus, what happened?” Scotland grasped Clint’s other hand, hissing at what he found. The blisters were raw and fresh, the skin shiny and stretched thin over his frame.
“Nothing,” said Clint, drawing his hands back before tucking them under his thighs. He didn’t flinch, even though it must have been agony. That type of wound would have stung and throbbed in the worst way.
Scotland rocked back on his heels before standing to cross the room. Every nook and cranny in the place was well stocked, and he wasn’t disappointed when he found some aftercare cream in one of the drawers. It was a small tube, probably meant for a couple to take along with them after an impact scene, but it was full and sealed, so it would have to work.
“Give me your hand.” He lowered himself next to Clint, twisting off the cap with his teeth and dragging off the thin aluminum film. Bitter and spicy peppermint struck him, a tiny bit getting on his teeth and filling his senses with a medicinal taint. He rarely used cream unless his partner asked for it, preferring the stretch of sensation that lasted long after a scene.
Clint shook his head, forcing his hands farther under his legs, his shoulders straining from the angle. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“You are not fine,” said Scotland, tugging at Clint’s elbow. If the fucker wanted to play hard to get, now was not the time. With the tears on Clint’s cheeks and the faraway look in his eyes, Scotland doubted that Clint had any idea about his current state. “Give me your hand, Clint. I’m not fucking around.”
Clint narrowed his eyes, his jaw ticking as he clenched it tight. I would kill to have that look in any other situation. “Just leave it. I told you I’m fine.”
His voice rose to one that Scotland recognized. Clint could break up a bar fight and bring a wayward scene to a halt with that voice, but it rolled off Scotland without striking true.
He couldn’t just throw Clint over his shoulder and bind him to the closest cross, could he? Some of the paste seeped from the tube as he squeezed it, the greasy liquid dripping down his fingers. It tingled everywhere it touched, a strange numbness settling in.
Derreck cleared his throat and Scotland jumped, almost falling on his ass as he whipped around. He’d been so focused on Clint that he’d forgotten there was a much more intimidating man at his back.
“The way I see it, Clint, you’ve got two choices,” said Derreck, running his hand down Maddy’s arm. Maddy leaned into Derreck’s chest before he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. There were splotches on his shirt as if he’d been crying for quite some time, a tiredness to his expression that Scotland had never seen. The innocence was shattered.
“Here it comes,” mumbled Clint, jerking himself off the couch. Scotland did fall back at that, landing on his ass with an oomph. For a shorter guy, Clint was still pushy as hell when he wanted to be. Usually, he didn’t have to be because people moved for him.
“I’m guessing Maddy gets an apology or you make sure I end up six feet under,” said Clint, ticking off his finger despite how sore they must’ve been. Did he not even notice the burns? “You don’t intimidate me, Derreck, and I have every intention of apologizing to Maddy. I was tired, I lashed out and said things I didn’t mean. Maddy didn’t deserve that.”
“Sit down.” Derreck’s voice was like a dark pit, ready to suck his soul dry. Scotland swallowed as Clint slowly lowered himself back into his seat, his face pale. There were so many holes in his shirt that Scotland couldn’t count them. Every part of the house was perfect, with high-end finishings that spared no expense. It didn’t fit.
Is he going to pass out?
“You were close with option one,” said Derreck, his hands tracing patterns over Maddy’s skin. “No one would find the body, Clint. They wouldn’t even know where to look.” Scotland believed him. “But as for the apology—that one’s not voluntary.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Option two,” said Derreck, cutting off Clint’s hushed words. “You take some time. I don’t care if it’s a week or a month, but I don’t want to see your face in the building until you figure your shit out.”
Whoa. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d walked in on, but death threats seemed a little extreme, even for Derreck. Maddy huffed out a small sob, and Derreck tightened his grip, his eyes unfathomably dark. Or maybe not.
“You can’t force me out of my home,” said Clint as he jerked back to his feet. Scotland failed to scramble to his feet, squashing the tube of cream as he tried. It spurted over his hand, the cooling gel instantly numbing him.
“I’m not forcing you to do anything,” said Derreck calmly. “You have a choice, like I said.”
He had to be joking. Will I die too if I laugh? Clint owned the building. Derreck couldn’t trump that.
“You need time to process, Clint, and to grieve. Ross is gone—”
“Don’t say his fucking name right now,” Clint snarled, whirling on Derreck. His lips were drawn over his teeth in a vicious grimace, his eyes wild. “Don’t blame him for this, too.”
