Dead Ink: A Karma World Romance (Karma Series Book 4) (16 page)

The breeze off the ocean cut up what would have otherwise been a hotter than hell night in the South. Lars sat on Fate’s deck, rifle in his lap and a keen eye searching the distance for signs of trouble. He didn’t have to be here. He’d helped Fate ward his place well enough that Malokin wouldn’t be able to get close but it was an easy excuse to get out of dinner tonight. Faith was there, and he needed some time to himself to figure out what was going on in his head when it came to her.

The house was quiet but he could feel the energy of their unsettled life forces inside. They called to him like a siren’s song that only someone who was intimately acquainted with death could hear. The humans he saw were worse. Still covered in their shells, he could catch the occasional scent of fear and confusion carried on the breeze when they passed too closely to the house.

They couldn’t understand why people were becoming angry and it frightened them. It was a strange scent that was achingly familiar to the smell that preluded death and made him tense for want of action. It was useless to fight the urge so he let the waves of it flow over him like a pain he couldn’t stop.

It was that constant lure from unsettled souls that had finally pushed him over the edge and made him try anything, including Larissa’s witchcraft, in order to quit. He’d thought that this urge would go away when he finally did. It hadn’t. Even his closest friends had no idea how sometimes he longed to steal the spark that made people go on.

As he leaned back in his chair he noticed that it felt like the urges might have lessened a tiny bit. Nothing significant enough to know for sure, but it felt like the desire to take a soul wasn’t quite as strong.

Lars heard Karma’s footsteps from within and gave up on the idea of any peace.

Lars looked over at her, hoping she’d simply poke her head out on the deck, wave, and leave him be. She came outside took the seat beside him instead.

“How are you?” he asked, even though he didn’t actually care at the moment.

His eyes scanned her, searching for some visible display of her messed up psyche. He knew she was an emotional mess right now. He had to give her props, though. She looked like she was holding it together, if a little bit ragtag.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

He nodded. He did like Karma. She wasn’t the type to carry on and whine to everyone in her vicinity. He knew she was going through some shit of her own but she’d suffer in silence.

“Live long enough and bad shit tends to happen. More often than usual with you, but it’s unavoidable.” He smiled, thinking of how she did tend to be a lightning rod for the crap. “Take enough steps and sooner or later one of them is going to be in dog shit.”

“I guess I’m lucky like that,” she said, her sarcastic nature leaking out as she looked down the beach at a few stragglers but not much else. “Quiet tonight.”

“Enjoy it. We might not get too many more of these.” He crossed his ankles where they rested on the railing, the heavy boots making a thudding noise in the quiet of the night as he repositioned them.

She buffed her nails on the pajama shorts she was wearing and he thought the talk was finally over. Maybe she’d go inside and he could finally get the quiet he’d been searching for.

“I wasn’t going to ask, but since the world’s going to shit and I’m at a lack for more appropriate small talk—”

“Figured he’d tell you about her,” Lars interrupted, thinking he should’ve known better than to imagine she’d leave him in peace. These guys were worse than high schoolers with their goddamn gossip. 

“Yes.”

If she was going to insist on talking, he might as well make some use of it. “You can’t kill her and add her to your bucket list.”

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping with one of Malokin’s people. If you haven’t noticed, we’re at war with him. What are you thinking?”

“She’s not with him,” Lars’s voice was firm and more than a little defensive. No one actually knew he’d slept with Faith but they knew him. It wasn’t a stretch. His hand ran through his black hair as he sighed. It took a full minute before he spoke again, less decisive this time. “At least I don’t think she is. Talking about fucked up relationships, how’s yours?” If she wanted to delve into his crap situation, let’s see how she liked it.

“I don’t have a relationship.”

“
Sure
you don’t. You two walk around saying nothing about anything and pretend it’s completely normal. Worry about your own issues.”

He resettled the rifle in his lap as she stared at the chips in her nail polish in the heavy silence.

“We’re both screwed up. But your situation is still worse,” she said.

He turned his head toward her and raised his eyebrows. She had to be kidding. “Care to debate that?”

She broke eye contact to stare down at her nails again. “I won’t talk about yours, if you don’t talk about mine.”

“Done. That was significantly easier than I had imagined.” In his head, he’d thought he might have to actually get up and leave before he got her to shut up about the situation.

Then he remembered the tattoo he’d given her. Fate had asked him to check on it. Apparently it was causing her some pain. He waved a finger toward Karma’s hip. “On to other subjects, I’m supposed to take a peek at that.”

“Sure.” She kicked her feet up on the railing beside his, clearly not in any rush.

“I’m not going to see anything wrong with the tattoo, am I?” he asked as neither of them made an effort toward show and tell. He knew whatever was going wrong with it had nothing to do with what he’d done. It was what had come after.

“Nope.”

“Care to share what the issue is?”

“Nope.”

“Understood.”

She stood and stretched out her arms with a yawn. “It’s been nice chatting with you, Lars. Sort of, anyway.”

“Back at ya, babe,” he said, using the top of the gun to salute her.

And just when he thought he was going to finally get his peace, Cutty called and told him about the events at dinner.

Faith was asleep on the couch, not the bed, when he got home. That was the first sign that Cinderella had left the building. He’d crashed on his bed for the first time in a while, for all the good it did him.

When he woke in the morning, he thought about going right down to the shop. He wasn’t sure how that idea had morphed into cooking her eggs.

He heard her rise and looked over just as she disappeared into the bathroom without saying anything. By the time she finally came back out, the eggs he’d plated for her had gone cold.

“Want me to heat those up for you?” he asked.

“No, they’re fine. You’ve done plenty.” Her back was stiffer than her tone as she sat opposite him at the table.

He watched as she toyed with her food and he wondered if he should go stay at Cutty’s. This was getting uncomfortable and reminded him of the exact reason he didn’t have relationships. Why torture himself like this? He couldn’t sleep with her and he couldn’t bring another girl home with her here.

Who was he kidding? He didn’t want another girl. He wanted Faith, but he pushed that thought aside. He wasn’t going there again, and this wasn’t tolerable. He longed for the fake pleasantries of yesterday.

“We need to talk,” he finally said, when it was clear she wasn’t going to be the one starting any kind of chitchat between them.

“What?” She didn’t sound overjoyed, but at least she wasn’t outright shutting him down. Her hand went to Arthur’s ring, hanging on the string around her neck, a telltale sign she was unsettled, as if seeking out her last connection to him for support.

“I…” He faltered in the new territory.

“I what?” she asked after the words didn’t come out.

Apologizing didn’t come easily to his nature but for peace, he’d do it. It had nothing to do with her being unhappy. This was for peace, and that was it. He had to do it. Cutty’s wasn’t safe. She had to stay here and it was his place. It was ridiculous for him to leave it.

“I’m…” Okay, he wasn’t going to be able to get
that
word out. Sorry might have been a bit ambitious for his first time around. She’d have to settle for something close. “Cutty told me about last night. I didn’t mean to make you feel…uncomfortable. I just want you to understand those things took place before…” This watching what you said shit was tough work. He wondered why most people bothered with it.

The edge she’d had in her eyes went from contempt but curious to something a bit less discernable as he waited to see if she’d have any response. She got up and walked over to the sink but didn’t respond. He didn’t care what happened. He wasn’t saying sorry. That’s where he drew the line.

Her back was to him as she rinsed off her plate. Then she finally spoke. “So, you wouldn’t have done something like that…say, yesterday?”

“Why does that matter? It didn’t happen yesterday.”

“I understand your situation. There’s no need to discuss it further.”

He sighed and relaxed in his chair. Maybe you could reason with a chick. Maybe things could be normal between them again now.

She finished up in the kitchen and then grabbed her purse. “I’m going downstairs,” she said abruptly, and left, leaving him to stare at where she’d just been. There seemed to have been something hostile in that exit.

He dug out his phone and dialed Cutty.

“Dude, what’s up?” Cutty said as he answered the phone. “You have a talk with her?”

“Yeah. I thought we were good but then…maybe not.”

Cutty made a
hmmm
noise before asking, “Did she say you were good?”

“No, but she said we didn’t need to discuss it. I thought that meant things were okay.”

Cutty made a low groan. “How can you have slept with so many girls and not know how fucked you are? Girls want to discuss everything. That’s a bad—very bad—sign.”

“I screw them, not talk to them. Now what do I do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe just ride it out for a while? See if she gets unpissed? I’ve heard that can spontaneously happen.”

“But what if she won’t talk to me?”

“So? You don’t like to talk anyway.”

“Yeah, but…I don’t know.”

“Oh no, do not do that.”

“Do what?”

“Fuck her again.”

“Who says I fucked her at all?”

“Lars?” Cutty didn’t just say his name in that one word, he reminded him of just how well he knew his history.

“Whatever. So I fucked her.”

“If you aren’t going to treat her right, don’t do it again.”

“I gotta go. Thanks for all the brilliant advice.”

“Don’t be a dumb ass.”

“Fuck off.” Lars hung up on him and went downstairs. 

He walked into the shop like nothing was amiss. He tattooed the whole morning, trying to pretend she wasn’t there.

By the afternoon he knew with certainty he couldn’t do it; he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t want her. He felt like he was stalking her around his shop. She went in the back room and he remembered something he needed back there. She was by the counter and he felt the need to look at the appointment book. And it wasn’t that he wanted a woman; he wanted
that
woman.

It wasn’t about the chase with Faith, either. He’d already had her and it hadn’t lessened the urge at all. It had only made it worse. When he saw her walking around the shop, in her little white sundress, straightening up and then flipping through his books by the front counter, two things ran through his mind. First, she was the very antithesis of what he normally went for. She had none of the edge of his past lovers but that didn’t seem to matter. Second, and the bigger issue, if he slept with her again, there was sure to be hurt feelings that wouldn’t wear off in a week or two. It was already awkward but if he stayed away from her, things would eventually go back to some semblance of normal. He shouldn’t touch her. It would bring nothing but problems.

But all the logic in the world couldn’t rid him of the desire to throw her over his shoulder, carry her up to his bed and not let her leave until he finally got his fill of her, if it were even possible. And that thought was starting to consume every ounce of his brain and forcing out all the reasons why he shouldn’t.

He watched her walk across the shop floor and then back towards the counter. Her phone dinged a notification and she looked at it and for the first time that day, a small smile appeared on her face as she typed a reply to the text she must have gotten from one of the guys. She leaned forward slightly, that simple action causing the back of her skirt to edge up slightly higher on her thighs. Another ding and a little giggle escaped her lips and jealousy ripped through him that they were making her laugh. She was smiling for them while she wouldn’t even speak to him.

Logic fled completely. He didn’t care anymore. He’d hit critical mass. She was his and he wasn’t letting another day go by that she and everyone else didn’t know it.

***

The last client of the day left and Faith watched Lars walk toward the door and click the lock shut. It wasn’t something that should have caught her attention. It was right around closing time. Nothing unusual. But it did.

Maybe it was the looks he’d been giving her all day, when he thought she hadn’t been looking, or the elevated tension between them. Whatever it was, when he turned around, she knew exactly what his purpose was. It was a very bad idea to go down this road with him again but damn if her nipples weren’t hard buds.

He walked over to the two large windows and pulled down the shades until they hit the sills.

“Why are you pulling them down?” she asked, even though she already had her suspicions.

“No reason,” he said.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He kept walking toward her, expression unchanged. “Why?”

“Because I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because—it just isn’t.”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, not enough to be a smile, just enough to add a devilish touch to an already sinfully alarming face. “You’re going to have to give me a better reason than that.”

“No, I don’t.” She certainly wasn’t going to tell him the way he’d been so cold after they’d had sex had crushed her feelings, or finding out just how little he trusted her had closed the door even further.

He got closer and she turned her back on him, which turned out to be a bad decision and not a deterrent at all. His arm wrapped around her waist, and his hand splayed against her stomach, pulling her back snug against him. Her fingers grabbed his hand, getting ready to pull it from her but her own weakness made her hesitate. Why? Of all the people she’d known in her life, why did he have to be the one she struggled to resist? 

He brushed her hair away from her shoulder with his free hand, and then leaning down, started to slowly kiss his way toward her neck.

“Lars—”

“You don’t know what watching you all day does to me.”

She shouldn’t still want him but she did.

His voice, husky as he spoke against her skin, was quickening her response. His hand on her stomach started to slide downward until his fingers were pressing through the two layers of fabric at the juncture of her legs. His fingers pressed there and then didn’t move.

“You really don’t want this?”

Without meaning to, she moved against his hand.

“I thought so,” he said as his fingers started making a circular motion.

She had to stop this, and quickly. She tried to remember why, and it took some concentration but she remembered his cold demeanor minutes after he’d slept with her last time. The thought of that happening again gave her strength. She grabbed his arm and pushed it away from her.

“Lars—” she started.

She’d only taken a step away when he spoke. “I know I’ve handled things badly.”

Her steps paused as she cursed herself for being so weak. She should keep walking, not wait to hear what else he’d say.

“Faith, I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone in my life.” There was a struggle in his voice, as if he hadn’t wanted to say those words. What they’d cost him.

Walk. She needed to walk away from him. But those words grounded her to the spot and sucked at her emotions like she was sinking in quicksand.

She stood frozen, common sense and self-preservation keeping her from taking a step back to him but every other piece of her heart, body and soul refusing to let her move away.

He finally closed the gap between the two of them and she could feel him coming up behind her. He was pulling her dress up and then his fingers weren’t just pressing against her but entering her and all resistance was gone. If she’d been honest with herself, she’d never really wanted to resist him to begin with. She’d picked out this dress with him in mind. She’d walked around the shop, leaning over just enough to entice him because the thought of him not wanting her, when she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him, crushed her.

She arched into him and then spun around toward him, wanting more. Their lips met and there was no hesitation but a shared hunger as her hands sank into his hair and his grabbed her ass, pulling her against his bulge.

He started walking with her but she stopped him with two hands on his chest that moved down to his pants. She kneeled down in front of him and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling the zipper down. She tasted his desire on her tongue as she took the head of his dick into her mouth.

His hands ran along her scalp as his head fell back on a groan. Then they shifted to her arms, pulling her upward and spinning her in the direction of the tattoo bench. He pressed her forward until she was kneeling on it. His palms ran up the back of her thighs, dragging the dress with them until it bunched at her waist and then pushing her panties down. His hands cupped her ass as his cock teased her entrance. He pressed into her and it felt even better than it had the first time as she pushed back against him. It was a frantic joining that had them both gasping and winded within minutes.

Her body tensed with the most exquisite orgasm she’d ever experienced and then she felt him pulling out of her.

The dread of how he’d act after this second time around didn’t have time to settle in as he spun her around and picked her up.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“What I’ve imagined doing to you all day. Throwing you on my bed and fucking you until your legs are too weak to try and stand.”