Skin Deep

“Please don’t, Roth!” Kiera dodged the lamp her boyfriend threw at her. The white ceramic slammed into the wall and exploded into a thousand pieces. Roth stalked across the room. His thick, muscular body pulsed with rage. Hers responded with fear, her heart ready to burst inside her chest. Her back met the smooth wall of their hotel room.

There’s nowhere to run
.

Their vacation to Savannah had taken a turn for the worse while they ate dinner at a local diner. A male waiter had engaged her in conversation about the woven bracelet she wore. It was innocent enough, but Kiera should have known better. In the year and a half she’d been with Roth, she knew he hated it when she talked to other guys, even if it was harmless chit-chat.

“Baby, it didn’t mean anything. I promise,” she pleaded as tears ran down her cheeks. She knew what was coming, but no matter how many times it happened, she could never truly be prepared for it.

His open palm smacked her face, stinging like a thousand needles against her skin.

“I bet you liked it, didn’t you? You fat slut!” He backhanded her, sending her body reeling in the other direction as pain blasted through her head. “I bet you wanted him to take you back to his room and fuck you, didn’t you?”

Kiera didn’t respond. She knew better than to try to offer excuses, even though there wasn’t a need for one. If she could just take the abuse, it would be over sooner.

“Didn’t you?” He kicked, making contact with her left shin. Crying out, she crumpled to the floor. With the pain came a blast of utter shock. Roth went into these fits of rage often, but never had he kicked her.

“Answer me! Dammit!” His foot connected with her unprotected belly, making her scream in agony. “You’re such a fat, lazy bitch! I should have let that pathetic motherfucker have you! God knows I can do way fucking better than you!” His words sounded more like a demon’s, coming from deep inside his throat. A monster from hell. The words ate at her, because she knew they were true. She was unworthy of someone like him, her body far too large, her features more strange than pretty.

“Why don’t you eat some chocolate, huh?” A small red box smacked into her shoulder, the contents tumbling out around her head. “Don’t you want some more of your special-ordered, chocolate-covered cherries? Aren’t you hungry?” The cruel sarcasm in his voice gnawed at her very core. “I do something special for you and this … this is how you repay me?”

“I—”

“Shut the fuck up! If I wanted you to talk, then I would’ve asked!” He paced before her. His black Nikes eating up the space beside her head. He stepped on one of the chocolates she so detested, mashing it into the white carpet. Never had she seen him in so deep a rage. Never had it been so bad. He was temperamental at best, his moods always changing, even before he’d started taking steroids a year ago. His body had always been fast, lithe, stronger than anyone’s she had ever seen.

“God, I fucking hate you!” His foot connected with her face this time. She heard the crack of her cheekbone as it gave way under the toe of his shoe.

Her mind hazed over and she fought back. Not since the first time he’d hit her had she tried to defend herself. She’d learned submission was the best way to deal with him. Sooner or later he’d get tired of her and leave her be. This time was different. She scrambled toward the closed door, her fingers fumbling over the scattered candy.

If I can just get into the hallway, someone will help me.

She hardly noticed the warm liquid sliding down her face as she moved. She’d made it less than three feet when she heard his cruel laugh. A rough hand snaked into her hair, forcing her to the ground, slamming her head into the hard floor.

His face came into view. Most people would have found his tan skin, light blond hair, and deep brown eyes handsome. Hell, she used to, but as he loomed over her with the handsome face she’d once adored, she saw the true monster within its depths.

“You’re not going anywhere, bitch!” he snarled at her. Silver flashed before her eyes and it took her a moment to focus on the item in his hand. His switchblade clicked into place, the lamplight glinting off its smooth surface. She struggled against his hold, but he was far too strong.

“Scared?”

Terrified was more like it. Fear ate at her insides, swirling, knotting in her aching belly.

Roth smirked as he lowered the knife. “Oh, my precious Kiera. This is only the beginning of the things I’ll do to you.” His pearl-white smile flashed before her swimming vision.

She knew it was in that plush hotel room—separated only by thin walls from hundreds of other people, people who would never know until it was too late—that she, Kiera McBroom, was about to die.

Chapter 1

Four Years Later

Kiera cowered in the corner as Roth stalked toward her, pure menace burning in his eyes. Not again, never again.

“You died! You can never come back!” She screamed, covered her ears, and squeezed her eyes shut. “Go away!”

A thundering noise pounded toward her. She jerked. He was coming closer, closer. He couldn’t—”No, please!”

Kiera jumped, coming out of her nightmare with her heart pounding at an alarming rate. She took a deep breath, only to scream and fall forward off the couch when the booming sounded again. She realized now it wasn’t Roth’s footsteps like she had dreamt; it was someone pounding on the front door.

Her eyes found the digital clock on one of her end tables. Two in the morning? Who would be coming by so late? She rushed downstairs and looked through the peephole. Darla and Maryline, her middle-aged coworkers, stood on the other side.

“Is everything okay?” Kiera opened the door, revealing the two startlingly beautiful women.

“It’s about damn time, missy!” Maryline smiled as she brushed past her and started up the stairs to Kiera’s loft. Her long brown hair flowed behind her, sweeping against Kiera’s shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” Kiera tried to keep the confusion out of her voice and failed.

“Oh, you know Maryline,” Darla said. “Always up to something ridiculous.”

Kiera’s gaze met Darla’s sparkling green one. She wore an apologetic look on her face.

An overwhelming amount of dread bubbled inside Kiera’s belly. Maryline had made it her life’s mission to bring Kiera out of her funk. Especially after Kiera had finally told them what had brought her running across the country to Kittery, Maine, looking for a new life and a new place to start over.

Inviting her out every weekend was only the beginning of things. Over the last several years Maryline had tried many different approaches to getting her out and into the world. Starting with a gym membership that Kiera kindly declined, a free makeover she had regretted, and multiple blind dates she’d never met.

Kiera stepped forward to shut the door behind Darla when a dainty, pale hand with a barrage of bangles on the wrist, curled around the dark wood, preventing it from closing.

“Um, guys … who is this?”

“I’ll explain in a minute!” Maryline called happily over her shoulder. Kiera stepped back, allowing a woman she had never met to enter her apartment. She was probably the strangest person Kiera had ever laid eyes on. She had short multicolored hair, ranging from orange to blue, that stuck out in all directions. Her skin was white as paper. Her legs were covered by a long pink floral skirt with shimmering silver beads that clinked softly as she walked. She wore a turquoise-blue top with a sparkly unicorn on it. Her eyes were covered in large knock-off Versace sunglasses.

“Wow, honey, it doesn’t matter how many times I see your place, I still can’t believe it.” Maryline’s voice rang out from above. Kiera cringed. Her apartment was her home, her hovel. The place where she had encased herself to hide from the rest of world. She didn’t care what other people thought, at least not until they were inside and staring at the little world she had created.

She took a deep breath and shut the door behind the new chick.
I live here for three years and rarely have a visitor. Now it’s 2 a.m. and I have three. Go figure.
She tried to prepare herself for whatever Maryline had cooked up this time as she ascended the stairs, but knew there would never be enough time for that.

“Come over here, love bug, and have a seat!” Maryline was sitting gracefully on the couch Kiera had been sleeping on, her legs crossed in a way that most anyone—man or woman—would find enticing, wearing a black leather miniskirt and thigh-high boots with a red bedazzled shirt. The crazy lady sat next to her silently, looking around as if in a daze. Her pale hands were clasped tightly in her lap, belying the ease that seemed to engulf the rest of her. Darla stood off to the side, next to the TV, with her hands in the pockets of her expensive designer jeans. Her shirt was a plain black V-neck. Simple, yet elegant, and the polar opposite of her partner. They looked strange inside her loft apartment. Like pieces of a puzzle that had accidently gotten mixed with the wrong set.

The room probably looked bizarre to anyone except Kiera. The four eighteen-foot walls that created her home were all covered—yes,
covered
—with crocheted blankets and decorations Kiera had made herself. The multicolored fabric walls made the room dance with life right before Kiera’s eyes, calming her in a way that only they could, in spite of the intruders.

“I love those pajama pants! Too cute!” Maryline said.

“Uh, thanks.” Kiera stared down at her clothing, which was a sad comparison to the chic couple before her. The gray tank top and loose Winnie the Pooh pants were as far from stylish as possible, not to mention way too revealing. She never let anyone see her body like this.
Ever.
She always bundled up and covered herself with sweaters and scarves when leaving the house. Moving to Kittery, Maine had been the best choice she could have made as far as her wardrobe was concerned. She could cover up her fat and pretend like it wasn’t there
all year round.

“What are you doing? Don’t just stand there!” Maryline waved her hands around frantically with her normal get-up-and-go attitude. “Come here, dear, and cop a squat between Bettina and me.” She patted the pink-and-white granny-style floral blanket that covered the couch. Kiera had made that blanket over a year ago. The pattern was simple, not wild and outlandish like her newer projects. She’d made it specifically to cover the couch, had taken her time and measured the dimensions of the loveseat. She had envisioned what it would be like to have company sit on that very blanket. Even though Maryline and Darla had stopped by several other times, neither of them had sat on the couch, as they never stayed long enough for something like that. In spite of the strangeness of the visit, she found she liked seeing someone sit there, even more than she’d expected. “Oh, and Bettina, this is our friend Kiera. The one I was telling you about.”

Kiera glanced at Bettina, who was still clutching her hands in her lap.
Weird.
“Give me a sec.” She walked across the room to her dresser. Having a loft meant everything was there in the open. One big shared space—aside from the bathroom. When she’d moved in she’d marveled at how
St. Elmo’s Fire
it was.

She pulled an old sweatshirt from the top drawer. When she turned back around she didn’t miss the look Darla and Maryline were sharing. It was the one that always passed between them when it came to Kiera and her wardrobe and would usually be followed by a comment from Maryline about “showing some skin” and “if you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

The only problem was that Kiera had
too
much to flaunt. Her size eighteen jeans taunted her every morning when she put them on.

“What man could want someone as fat and ugly as you?”
Harsh words spoken by Roth years ago echoed in her mind. Kiera took a deep breath.
Don’t do this to yourself. Not now.

Maryline didn’t make any of those comments this time when Kiera moved hesitantly toward the couch to seat herself between the two women. The moment she leaned back, a weird feeling tickled along her spine.
What’s going on?

Kiera turned her head to see Bettina remove her large sunglasses and sucked in a breath at the sight of her eyes. They were a bright lime-green color. The most striking eyes she’d ever seen.

“I Love This Yarn.” Bettina’s gaze seemed to bore in Kiera’s as she spoke.

“Oh, yes. Kiera is so talented when it comes to crocheting,” Maryline said.

Kiera wanted to look at her friend but found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Bettina’s. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the woman’s hand moving rhythmically back and forth against the couch arm. All earlier signs of tension were long gone.

“Pinky Toes and Ivory. Granny square with a size H hook.”

A shiver ran down Kiera’s spine and a whoosh of air escaped her lips. “Yes … how did you know?” She couldn’t help the awe that seeped into her words. Bettina was exactly right. Those were the names of the yarn she had used, and I Love This Yarn was the brand, Kiera’s favorite brand. She had never met a fellow lover of crocheting, though admittedly, she hadn’t really looked.

Bettina shrugged her shoulders but kept her eerie eyes locked on Kiera. “I, too, am a fan of a late-night snack.”

Kiera frowned before breaking Bettina’s gaze and glancing at her coffee table. It, like everything else, was covered with something Kiera had made. In the center was a gold elephant centerpiece she’d found at a thrift store. It was typically the only thing that adorned the table, aside from her TV controller, which sat comfortably to the left inside its blue crocheted remote warmer. Tonight there were half a dozen empty oatmeal cream pie wrappers littering the table.

She cringed. She didn’t like to be down in the dumps, but when she was, Little Debbie was always there for her, with a delicious treat that put her further away from the body she always wanted.

“You are even more beautiful than I was told.” Kiera jumped at the sound of Bettina’s voice against her ear.
What the hell?
She scooted closer to Maryline.

“Isn’t she just ravishing?” Maryline startled her with the admission. Kiera didn’t think her coworker could have heard Bettina, she’d spoken so quietly.

Kiera’s cheeks heated at the compliments. She didn’t feel ravishing, though there were times in her life, moments perhaps, when she’d gazed at herself in the mirror and found the image staring back to be … acceptable. Her long red hair was curly and unlike most gingers, who had more of an orangey tint to their hair, hers was a vivid red. The red of a rose, her mother used to say. Her skin was a warm cream-coffee color—tan—as though she’d lived on a beach all her life, with not a freckle to be found.

Her large eyes tilted upward in their far corners, their color a golden yellow. Her heritage of a native Hawaiian father and a Vietnamese mother gave her an interesting mix of features. They were likable, she supposed, but none of that mattered since it was all overshadowed by her weight.

“Your cheeks look like a raspberry.” Bettina’s wild eyes glittered as she stared at Kiera. “Are you sure you want to do this, Maryline?”

“Yes, I—”

“—have no business here at all,” Darla cut in. She ran a hand over her short platinum-blond bob.

Maryline shot her a dirty look before continuing, “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Wait. What’s going on? It’s two in the morning.” Kiera hugged her arms tightly around her waist. A hint of anxiety crept across her skin. She didn’t like where this was heading.

“I know. That’s what I told her, but she wouldn’t listen,” Darla added, “Fucking ridiculous.”

“Oh, Darla. You know this is a good idea, so don’t even be that way with me.”

“Wait, what? What’s a good idea? Tell me what’s going on!” Kiera shouted, clutching at her sweater with shaky fingers. Maryline glanced at her again; a sympathetic look passed across her heart-shaped face as she tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I know I should have called or something, but tonight at the bar we met Bettina and got to talking and it occurred to me that she would be the perfect person to ‘help you.
’”
Maryline made air quotes with her fingers as she spoke the last two words.

“Help me?” Kiera said blankly, before understanding dawned on her. “No, no. Now look, I know you guys swing that way, but I’m not—”

Maryline laughed. “No, honey! I didn’t bring Bettina here to be your date, silly! I brought her here because she’s a Gypsy.”

Kiera’s head snapped back in confusion, her eyes meeting the strange woman’s again. Bettina still stared at Kiera. Her fluorescent eyes seemed to be lost in thought, though her hand still moved against the side of the couch to a silent rhythm.

“A Gypsy?” Kiera let the word roll through her mind. “As in one of those traveling people?”

“Traveling is such a tourist word. Wandering would be more accurate,” Bettina whispered in a dreamy voice as she reached her hand up and laid it on Kiera’s breast.

Kiera jumped back in alarm, but failed to dislodge the strange woman’s touch. “What is the purpose of this?”

“Come on, Maryline. Let’s go. I told you this was a bad fucking idea!” Darla moved toward her partner, grabbing her by the wrist in an effort to pull her from the couch.

“Oh my!” Everyone jumped at the sound of Bettina’s shout.

“What is it? What happened?” Maryline asked.

“She is even more beautiful on the inside,” she whispered. “I will be able to do this with ease. Her beauty will not have to be feigned physically or emotionally.”

“Could someone please tell me what’s going on?” Kiera felt lightheaded, but a fraction better when Bettina finally removed her hand.

“I have a spell that will make your body exactly the way you want it. It will make you the thin woman you desire to be.”

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