Dead Ink: A Karma World Romance (Karma Series Book 4) (9 page)

Faith woke up as Lars was walking out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips, his hair soaking wet. He seemed to be more of a drip-dry type, as water still beaded on his skin. She kept her lids mostly closed, feigning sleep as he moved about the room, his smallest movements setting off a ripple of muscles.

He walked over to the dresser, where it sat against the wall, and dug a pair of jeans out of one of the drawers. He took a few steps back toward the bathroom but then stopped. The towel dropped, revealing every masculine inch of him. She should’ve stop looking but didn’t. He tugged the jeans up over a perfect ass as she noticed he also wasn’t the underwear type.

He turned back toward her and she pressed her eyes shut.

“I’ve got coffee on.” He didn’t bother with a shirt as he headed over to the kitchen area.

She didn’t need a mirror to know her cheeks were flaming red. He’d known she was awake and obviously that she’d been watching him, too. “Thanks,” she said, not wanting to compound the situation by hanging on to the pretense of sleep.

She opened her eyes and sat up as if she hadn’t been caught peeping, or maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal she had been. It wasn’t like he was modest, after all. She debated letting the matter drop completely but her curiosity got the better of her. “How can you tell when I’m sleeping or not?”

“I hear your heart rate quicken.” He smiled ever so slightly. “Does it bother you?” he asked in a way that made her think he already had the answer to that question but enjoyed teasing her.

She’d never seen him smile before. It smoothed his harsh edges, the ones that normally reminded her to keep her distance, like warning signs on a ride that went too fast and rough for comfort.

“That you can hear my heart beating? No, why would it?” Of course it did, and especially if he could hear it now when it felt like it was trying to bang its way out of her chest like a kid jacked up on sugar, bouncing around on a pogo stick. It wasn’t going to calm down, either, until he stopped looking at her like she was his new playmate.

“Just curious.”

He moved about the kitchen, completely at ease with his partial undress, and she wondered if the jeans were for her benefit. She wished his face would get that irritated look it so often had but warning signs or not, she still knew what kind of ride he’d offer up.

“Will I be able to hear people’s heartbeat?” It would be nice to think she wasn’t the only one revved up but she didn’t hear a thing from him. He was as calm as ever.

“Nope. Just me.” He took some stuff out of the fridge and placed it on the counter. “Want eggs?”

“Sure. Thanks.” She went over to her bag and dug out some essentials. “Do you mind if I hop in the shower first?” And a very cold shower at that.

“You don’t have to ask,” was all he said. “Everything you might need is in the closet.”

She left Lars, still trying to decide if she did or didn’t want him to have a shirt on when she came back out.

His bathroom was a state of the art affair, with natural stone and pewter finished hardware. There wasn’t a bathtub but the shower stall was eight-by-eight, with a bench and showerheads coming from every possible direction and angle.

She opened one of the closet doors and found he wasn’t kidding. There weren’t just supplies, there was a wide selection of feminine products right alongside his masculine versions. She guessed he liked to keep stocked up for his dates. And she didn’t doubt he had a lot. She’d known men like him. He had the swagger of a guy who wasn’t used to being turned down.

She needed to find somewhere else to go before she ended up in his corral. Or he brought a woman back here. And what if both things happened and in that order? She hurried through her shower, debating on whether she was safer at Cutty’s, with Keith right outside her window and bloody messages on the ceiling, or here with a half-naked Lars walking about.

She finished up in the bathroom and found him still half-naked. She ate her eggs while trying to avoid looking at a body that outshined the statue of David.

“You ready?” he asked, standing in front of her a few minutes later, still shirtless.

She assumed he meant if she was ready to go downstairs.

“Yeah,” she replied, letting him assume she meant going downstairs as well, while fighting to keep eye contact.

He walked back to the other side of the apartment and finally threw a shirt on. By time they headed down to the shop together, she was leaning towards Cutty’s place and the bloody ceiling.

Lars held the door to the tattoo shop open for Faith, and she was surprised to find another guy already there. Then she remembered Lars mentioning he had additional artists that worked for him.

“Rick, this is Faith. She’s the new shop manager,” he said offhandedly, as his attention seemed to be pulled away to the appointment book on the counter.

Rick appeared to be in his early thirties, sported a shaved temple, gauged ears and had random pieces of chain connecting different parts of his clothing. He held out a hand and Faith shook it. He had a nice grip and his warm smile contrasted with his edgy look.

“Nice to meet you.” He pointed to a ring in his nose. “I do piercings as well if you’re interested.” His eyes dropped to the snug white t-shirt she had on. “I bet those perky babies would look nice with a little adornment.”

Faith reflexively covered her chest with her arms and shook her head quickly. “I’m good, really. Thanks, but, yeah. They’re okay as is.”

“Calm down, girl. I’m not gonna force them on you. And don’t take that the wrong way,” he said and leaned in close. “I prefer my breasts to be non-functioning and attached to a few more muscles than what you’ve got going on. Don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate a nice pair but they don’t do anything for me.” Rick tilted his head toward the office where Lars had just disappeared. “Now him, that’s a different story. Or would be if I didn’t have a man.” He puckered his mouth to the side and got a dreamy look as he watched Lars through the open door of the office. “Or even if I wasn’t the faithful type. He sure does offer up some sweet temptation.”

Lars turned and walked toward them as if on cue. He stopped and looked at Faith. “Don’t leave.”

He was out of the shop seconds later and too fast for her to bother replying that she had nowhere else to go anyway. Considering Rick was standing beside her, it was probably a good thing. She didn’t like to brag about being homeless. She was humble like that.

Rick did an exaggerated shiver. “And he’s so take charge. Gotta love that in a man. So, you sleeping with him?” Rick asked in an excited tone, like a bloodhound on the scent of some juicy dirt.

“No,” she replied, and probably a little too defensively, considering the way his eyebrows rose after she said it.

He pointed his finger at her in an
aha
motion. “But you want to.”

“No, I really don’t.” Or not the sane portion of her anyway, and that was the part she was clinging to.

“You should do it,” he said, discarding her denial. “I mean yeah, it’ll most likely be a one and done with him, Vivian can attest to that, but what a specimen.” He waved his hand in the air, fanning his face.

“Vivian?” she asked, feeling a spike of jealousy over a name being attached to his. Yeah, she needed to call Cutty and soon. Maybe he had a couch in the basement.

“She’s another artist here but too freaked out to leave her house with all the crap going on. He banged her once and then never touched her again, to her very vocal annoyance.” Rick’s eyes narrowed. “You know, he’s never had a shop manager before. If he’s not sleeping with you, then what’s the deal?”

She was cursing Lars up and down in her head for dumping her in this situation without some sort of story in place and then leaving. “Friend of a friend.”

Rick lifted a single finger to his lips as he visibly thought about what she’d just said. Then that finger wagged back and forth as he pronounced his verdict. “Nah, it’s because he wants to bang you.”

“I really don’t think that’s it,” she said, shaking her head and hoping he’d drop the subject.

Rick laughed. “You know, if he wants you, he’s going to get you. That boy has ways. Seriously, the world is falling apart, every other business on this road is boarding up, but we still keep getting customers and it ain’t cause of me. People are drawn to him, especially the ladies.”

As if on cue, two women in their twenties walked into the place.

“My appointment is here,” Rick said motioning to one of the newcomers. “You ready?” he asked the woman on the right.

“Yes,” she replied but looked around the place. “The owner isn’t here?” she asked.

“Nope,” Rick answered and then threw Faith a look that screamed,
I told you so
, and then brought them over to an area where he already had the tattoo gun and ink lined up.

Faith took the opportunity to dash outside while it looked like no one was out there. It was nice to be somewhat alone for the moment. She dug out her phone, from where she’d tucked it into her back pocket, and then scrolled down her very short contact list to Cutty’s name. She’d sleep on the floor if need be.

She hit send and then end before it could connect. She was being ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle being around a handsome guy and not fall into bed with him. Of all her current problems, this was what she was going to worry about?

“Faith.”

She looked up, startled to hear her name from that voice. She looked over to see Keith standing on the sidewalk, fifteen feet away. To someone who didn’t know any better, he looked like a clean-cut man in his forties, in a black suit and a white shirt, dressed to inspire confidence. Her knee jerk reaction was to run back into the shop but Lars wasn’t there anyway. She doubted Rick would be much help. She was on her own.

Then she remembered what Lars had said about the sidewalk and watched him. His toes came right to the edge but not a step farther.

“Why are you here?” he asked, like he had the right.

He looked down at the ground and frowned as if he sensed some invisible barrier. He couldn’t get any closer to her. She was safe as long as she didn’t cross that line.

She watched him for a minute without saying a word and he waited. She imagined him orchestrating the bloody message while she’d slept and something in her snapped. She took a few steps forward but caught herself before she got too close. She narrowed the gap just enough that they didn’t need to scream to converse and then she let him have it. “You sick fucking bastard, I can go wherever I want. I’m not with you. I will never be with you. Don’t follow me. Don’t come near me. It’s not going to happen. Ever.”

“You might reconsider after you hear what I have to say,” he warned calmly, as she was on the brink of a meltdown. Then again, he didn’t have people stalking him and writing love letters in blood.

Her hands clenched and she had to stop herself from leaping at him. “There is nothing you could say, nothing I give a shit about enough to want to be anywhere near you. Near any of you.”

“You sure about that?” he asked smugly.

“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

A black sedan coming down the street drew his attention and the look on his face changed from smug to alert. The car quickly drew up beside him. He gave her one last passing glance and said, “You don’t know how much you’re going to regret this,” and then him, the car and driver were gone, speeding down the eerily empty street.

The car became a dot on the horizon and then she couldn’t see it at all. Instead of feeling better, a sick feeling was building. It was idle threats. That was all. Still, she walked back closer to the shop, leaning against the brick of the building but not going in.

She was with Lars and these guys but not really. She wasn’t alive but she wasn’t dead either. Her entire life seemed to hinge on being able to balance on a tiny pin point that she was doomed to fall off of and she kept waiting to see which way she’d tumble. 

Five minutes later, and feeling no better for the lapse of time, Lars’ car pulled in the lot. He slowed, taking in her figure in front of the shop before he pulled back behind the building.

He was standing in front of her a few moments later. “What are you doing out here?” It wasn’t a scream but it was far from pleasant.

His bad attitude lit her adrenaline like a match to a container of Napalm. She pushed off the wall in his direction. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to breathe outdoor air.”

She wasn’t surprised at all when he kept at it. “Were you going to tell me you had company?”

“I had every intention. But it looks like you’ve already got me under surveillance anyway so there’s no need.” She paced a couple of steps away, frustrated by everything in her life, Lars, the lack of control, and the unexpected visitor’s words the most.

“I walked in and asked Rick what you were doing out here. He said ‘talking to some guy.’ Since you don’t know anybody anymore, I suggest you start talking to me.”

She wasn’t a moron. She knew it looked bad and she didn’t need another enemy right now. In spite of how she felt about his approach of the subject, she swallowed back her anger and pride and told him, in the briefest terms possible, about Keith showing up. If she was going to fall one way or another, Lars and the guys were the preferred option.

She thought after she explained what happened, he’d calm down. He didn’t. He got worse. “Why couldn’t you stay inside?”

He was close to shouting, and she saw three heads in the shop turn away quickly when she looked through the window.

She stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “Lars?”

“What?” he snapped.

“Back. Off.”

She wasn’t sure if her words would make him angrier or have the intended effect of getting him to actually back off. Either way, she’d reached her limit.

Fortunately, he seemed to calm down. He looked up at the sky, as if he were as torn and conflicted as her, before he walked to the farthest edge of the building. He perched his shoulder against it, looking down the road like he was simply taking the air. 

“What are you doing?” she asked him, trying to figure out where the angry man had gone, along with the dragged out fight she’d been gearing up for.

He looked at her and shrugged his free shoulder. “I’m keeping you company while you breathe all this outdoor air in that you needed.”

Dimples she’d never noticed appeared on his cheeks. He wasn’t guarding her; he was protecting her. He relaxed against the wall as if he didn’t care if she took all day. It was the cutest thing anyone had done for her in a while; so cute that she didn’t even think about how she’d heard him clearly, even though he’d spoken softly from close to thirty feet away.