Dead Ink (Karma #4)

by Donna Augustine

  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.”

  Chapter 29

  His phone buzzed on the table beside him and he grabbed it quickly so as not to wake Faith. He’d had her up for more hours than he should’ve but he’d had to make up for all that withholding he’d done. Once he’d decided to just go with it, he couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Even now, as her face looked so sweet, lying there resting on the pillow beside him, he was thinking of the dirty things he wanted to do with that mouth.

  But it wasn’t just having sex with her. He liked that she was sleeping beside him in his bed. After he was done with a woman, he usually couldn’t wait to get rid of her. But with Faith, he wanted to curl around her and settle in. When he was with her and they were getting along, he felt at ease for the first time in centuries.

  His phone buzzed again, stopping him from doing exactly that.

  He looked down at the text message from Cutty on his phone. “Come over.”

  He stopped by Cutty’s all the time but something about this invite seemed different. Maybe because they didn’t usually do invites. They simply just showed up at each other’s places whenever they were in the mood. He texted back, “Why?”

  “Have something to show you.”

  “What?”

  “Just come.”

  Lars got up from where he’d been lying beside Faith. Her eyes flickered open the slightest amount, a drowsy but content look in them.

  “I’ve got to run to Cutty’s. Go back to sleep.” Before he thought about what he was doing, he leaned forward and feathered a kiss on her lips. They turned up slightly in response as she snuggled back down into the comforter.

  He found he was happy he’d done that. He should do that more often. He was smiling when he walked out the door ten minutes later. Maybe he could be good at this relationship stuff.

  ***

  His mind started cranking on the drive over as he thought of all the possible reasons Cutty would ask him to come by. The sky had just begun to lighten as he got there. Cutty always kept weird hours but normally he’d be sleeping right now, which led to even more unease. What did he need to show him that would have him up predawn?

  The door was unlocked and he let himself in to find Cutty on the couch. All the lights were off but for one in the far corner, casting harsh shadows across his face. There was a glass of whiskey in his hand and it didn’t look like it had been his first. That was much more alarming because of the amount of alcohol it took to have a visible effect on them.

  Lars walked over and sat on the other end of the couch. “What was so important?”

  Cutty took large sip of whiskey before he spoke. “Remember how you asked me to do a little digging around in Faith’s human life?”

  Hearing that question was as if someone had just swung a bowling ball into his gut but he responded as if nothing were amiss. “Yes.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to. But then Fate asked me to reach out to my connections as well. Between the two of you, I decided one of you would haunt me until I did it, so I called my guy.”

  Lars looked over at the bottle of whiskey nearby and resisted the urge to take a long swig, but only barely. “What did your guy in Seattle find?”

  “He sent me a file. Before I give it to you, I want you to listen to me,” Cutty said as he got to his feet as Lars did.

  “Give me the report.” He didn’t know what was in it but he was already getting angry. Cutty didn’t realize how feeding him this information in dribs and drabs was making the situation that much worse.

  “I don’t care what’s in it.” Cutty stood obstinately in his way. “I know what I know and I’m telling you, she’s a good person.”

  The words were like an annoying buzz in Lars’ ear as the only thing he could think of was what he was going to find out. “Get it for me or I’m going to tear your house apart looking for it.”

  He started to step around Cutty, planning on doing exactly that, but Cutty mirrored his steps, holding his hands up. “Okay, I’ll get it. Just try not to do anything rash.”

  He disappeared into another room and then came out and handed him a tan, legal-sized envelope.

  Lars pulled out several sheets and scanned them quickly. On page three he saw what had Cutty nervous. “Fuck.” He dropped them to his side for a minute but didn’t let them go as he took a couple of steps around Cutty’s place. He leaned a hip against his dining table as tried to get a handle on what he’d just seen. Cutty didn’t say anything as he stood there in silence for a minute.

  It looked bad. Really bad.

  “Did you show these to Fate?” Lars asked, feeling oddly protective of her even faced with damning evidence.

  “No.”

  “Don’t.”

  “I won’t.”

  Lars didn’t say anything else. Just took the envelope and papers and walked out.

  “Lars, don’t be stupid,” Cutty called after him from the door as he got in his car.

  ***

  Faith was laying on the bed awake when Lars came in. She looked at him and swallowed back the pleasant greeting she’d been about to offer. From the way the door shut to the sound of his footsteps as he walked across the room, everything about him screamed something was wrong.

  She sat up just as he stopped by the foot of the bed and dropped an envelope by her feet.

  “What is that?” she asked, already knowing she wasn’t going to like it. He obviously didn’t.

  He stood there, arms crossed and staring at her. “Look at it.”

  She looked at his face and felt a pure, one hundred percent undiluted dread settle into her chest. She didn’t know how he’d found out but he had. She didn’t have to ask what he thought. His scowl declared his feelings better than any words could.

  She shook her head as she steeled her heart, preparing for the hurt she was alrea
dy feeling to get worse. “I don’t need to.”

  He lifted the envelope and tossed it closer to her chest. “You aren’t going to bother looking?”

  “No.”

  “No defense?”

  “There is no defense good enough to make you think I’m not this horrible person you’ve decided I am. You’ve already judged and condemned me. What’s the point?” And she couldn’t do it—beg him to believe she wasn’t a monster. There was nothing worth what that would do to her.

  She got out of the bed, feeling too vulnerable there but not sure where else to go once she did. She was thankful she’d thrown a t-shirt on and she wasn’t still naked as he followed her over to where her bag sat. She reached in, grabbing a clean outfit as he came to stand next to her.

  “You’ve got nothing to say?” he asked.

  She’d let him think whatever he wanted but she couldn’t stop the urge to attack that was building fueled but the anger at him for always thinking the worst of her.

  “Obviously I’m in cahoots with him. Why else would Keith kill my brother?” She couldn’t have sounded more toxic if she’d dipped her tongue in cyanide.

  “I’m not saying you’re with Keith. I’m saying you knew him.”

  She stopped dodging what she knew was in the folder and just laid it out there. If she told him more than he already knew, oh well. She didn’t care anymore. “Because he bought some artwork from my gallery? Because I had lunch with him when I had no idea who he was? Because that’s what you do when you have a business and clients?”

  “You’ve been here weeks and in all that time you don’t say one word? There wasn’t one opportunity as we sat here night after night? Not a single chance to squeeze in, oh yeah, I might have known him in my previous life? You never say anything until you’re forced to. Not about this, not about Keith—”

  “And how did you know? What were you doing? What about how long it took you to tell me you were the fucking grim reaper? You took plenty of time divulging that and I said nothing.”