Karma's a Bit*h

by Este Holland

  I shook my head. “What does it matter? It was a long time ago.”

  “I’d like to know too, Archie,” Phen said.

  I pulled my hands away and finished my drink. “I…I found his wife.”

  Ma gasped. “He was married?” she shouted for the whole restaurant to hear.

  Nonna Sophia crossed herself, and we resolutely ignored the stares.

  “Yes, Ma. He had a wife and son. I tried to talk to her, but she wasn’t interested. I don’t think he abused them. I think he used you for that, so he wouldn’t hurt them. If that makes sense. She had money, and her father was Mark’s boss.”

  Ma nodded. “Go on.”

  “I went to his work one day and told him if he ever came near you again, or if I ever found out he’d started to abuse another woman, I’d tell his wife and father-in-law everything. I meant it, too. I kept tabs on him. And what do you know, he started to see another woman a few months later. I showed up with a recording I’d taken of him screaming at you, Ma. He backed off right away and stopped seeing her. Then, he started to go to anger management classes.”

  Ma covered her mouth, and Phen put his arm around her shoulders. “He got help?”

  “I don’t know how much it helped his mind, but I haven’t caught him hurting anyone else since then.”

  “You still check?” Her voice broke at the end, piercing my heart.

  “Once a year or so. I don’t want to obsess over it anymore.”

  The waiter brought our shots, and I took the glass out of Jake’s hand after Ma handed him one. I winked at his embarrassed face. I downed two in one go. The rest of them took one.

  Ma gasped and thumped her chest. “Well, I don’t know what to say. I don’t appreciate you lying all these years.”

  I lowered my head, and Jake slid his hand to my knee.

  “But,” Ma continued, “I understand why you kept it to yourself. I can’t tell you what to do, Archer, you’re a grown man. But I’m afraid of you getting hurt. That Brett, or whatever his name was, wants to hurt you.”

  “I won’t let him,” Greg said. “We have evidence of him committing one crime, and if we can get Ahmet to testify, we’ll have more.”

  Ma sighed. “Good. Now…”

  “Oh, crap.” I knew that tone.

  Phen smirked, and I threw an olive at his head. Jake glanced at both of us.

  “Your punishment is to go to the stage over there and sing me Frank Sinatra.”

  The blood drained from my face. “What?”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day, Archer, and I want Frank. Phen, you join him.”

  Phen squawked. “What did I do?”

  Jake laughed behind his hand. “I see where you get it, Arch.”

  I scowled, but, like a dutiful son, stood and kissed both Ma and Nonna’s cheeks. “Come on, Phoenix.” I pulled my brother up by his collar, and he scrambled to get his feet underneath him.

  Jake

  I tried not to bounce in my chair when Archer stepped onto the small stage at the front of the restaurant. “I didn’t know Archer could sing.”

  Ms. Ferraro—Kathy—leaned into my side. She was about fifty-five or so, with the brothers’ dark hair, and Archer’s hazel eyes. She had amazing cheekbones and elegant hands.

  “He can’t,” Kathy said with a small grin. “That’s why I’m making him do it.”

  Greg and I laughed. It was enlightening, to say the least. Archer’s sense of justice was clearly inherited from his mother. The punishment fit the crime. Archer hadn’t told his family the truth, so she was forcing him to sing in front of a crowd.

  I glanced at Greg, and he gave me a half wink. I was glad Greg had been here. Not that Archer hadn’t handled Brett—or rather, Sophia had—but now we had a cop as a witness. I hoped Brett was smart and stayed away. I also hoped Ahmet was okay. Greg kept glancing at his phone, but we were distracted by the squeal from the microphone turning on.

  “Hi, folks. I’d like to apologize for all the drama at our table. We had a bit of a family revelation this evening. And to celebrate Valentine’s Day with our beautiful mother and grandmother”—Archer pointed to our table—“we’re going to sing her favorite song, ‘That’s Life,’ by the incomparable Frank Sinatra.” He paused with a grimace. “All I can say is, please be kind.”

  There was a smattering of laughter and light applause, and then music began playing. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

  “ ‘That’s life,’ ” Archer sang. He’d found a fedora from somewhere—I don’t know where—and flipped it onto his head.

  “ ‘Thaaat’s liiiiife,’ ” Phen came in the background in a high falsetto, and Kathy and I rocked into each other with laughter.

  “ ‘That’s what all the people say…you’re ridin’ high in April, shot down in May…’ ”

  “ ‘Thaaat’s liiiiiife.’ ”

  The brothers began swaying in sync. Archer went on singing about puppets, paupers, pirates, and kings. Archer wasn’t bad, but Kathy was right—he wasn’t too good, either. Archer executed a twirl, and I whooped. He flashed me a look, and I had the biggest smile on my face; it hurt so much, but I didn’t care. My stomach hurt, too, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

  “ ‘Myyyyy, myyyyyyyyyyy,’ ” Archer finished with a flourish. Everyone whistled, and clapped, and Greg, Kathy, and I stood and cheered.

  The brothers took a bow and left the stage, shaking hands and talking to the manager.

  “Jake.” Kathy got my attention. “You’re in love with him.”

  Flames engulfed my face. “I—”

  “You can’t hide it from a mother. All I ask is you be good to him.”

  I gulped and nodded. “I will.”

  She patted my cheek, then smiled and hugged her sons when they returned.

  “Oh, that was hilarious.” Grinning, Greg waved his phone around.

  “You did not record that,” Phen growled.

  Greg scoffed. “Of course, I did. How else was I supposed to blackmail you into another date?”

  While Phen gaped, Kathy spoke. “Well, this has been an eventful night, boys. I think I’m ready to go home.”

  Nonna hiccupped, and we all turned to her.

  “Where did the rest of the shots go?” Archer asked. We counted all the empty shot glasses.

  “Bastarda!” Nonna Sophia glared and shook her fist at the door even though Brett was long gone.

  Phen snapped out of it, and with several wary looks thrown Greg’s way, escorted his mother and boozy grandmother outside while we paid the check.

  After they’d left, we stood on the sidewalk while Greg talked on his phone.

  “So, how was that for a Valentine’s Day dinner?” Archer asked.

  “Meh. I’ve had better.” He stared at me for a second, then snapped a hand out to poke me in the ribs. I dodged him with a laugh. “That was one of the best nights ever. Well, after Brett, of course. But maybe that was a blessing in disguise. Your family knows the truth now.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Archer said with a sigh. “I would’ve preferred it without that asshole, but—”

  “Ahmet’s in the ER now,” Greg said, striding to us.

  “Fuck!” Archer ran a hand through his styled hair, messing it up. “Is he okay?”

  “I think so. It’s just a precaution. Come on. I’ll take you.”

  “Jake—” Archer started.

  “No, I’m going with you.”

  He subsided and grabbed my hand as we ran after Greg. His car was a few blocks away, and I was winded by the time we got there. Archer wasn’t even breathing different.

  “By the way,” I said as we climbed in the back seat. “I loved the song. You’re an amazing singer. Like wow. How have you not been on The Voice yet?”

  Archer gave me a placid stare as Greg chuckled in the driver’s seat. “You, Jake Michelson, are a sarcastic little shit.”

  I grinned. “Who, me?”

  “Yes, you.” Archer leaned in and kissed my neck. />
  “I learned from the best.”

  “Marri?”

  “Who else?”

  Chapter 19

  Jake

  I stood in a goggle-eyed stupor. Nurses and orderlies ran around the ER. Patients cried and yelled, packed into the orange seats like sardines. Some of them sat on the floor.

  “Excuse me,” Greg caught a nurse and flashed his badge. “I need to see Ahmet Bushkar.”

  “Hold on,” she said.

  “What is going on?” Archer asked.

  He’d hadn’t been speaking to her, but the nurse answered, “Valentine’s Day is one of the busiest nights of the year.”

  “You stupid jerk!” a woman screamed as a gurney was wheeled in from an ambulance, carrying a man with a bloody forehead. “How could you have switched my present with your slut girlfriend’s?” She went to smack him, yet again presumedly, but the officer with them stopped her.

  Archer and I stayed close to Greg. “This is depressing.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Detectives, this way,” the nurse called.

  We followed Greg and the nurse, dodging patients and doctors with their white coats flapping behind them as they ran. Puke and other things I didn’t want to think about assaulted my nostrils. The nurse swept a curtain to the side with a whoosh, and I glimpsed a gorgeous man with honey skin and dark eyes and hair holding a medical ice pack to his face.

  Archer hurried to his side. “Ahmet, man. Are you okay?”

  “Hey, Archer.” Ahmet winced as he lowered the ice. “I’m okay. I’ve had worse from him.”

  “Mr. Bushkar, I’m Detective Greg Porter. We wanted you to come to the ER, first to make sure you’re all right, but also so we can document your injuries.”

  Ahmet nodded and cast a glance at Archer.

  “It’s okay. Greg knows what I did. And he knows Brett broke into my condo.”

  Ahmet’s eyes widened. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but he’s been following me and Jake.” Archer reached for my hand and pulled me to his side. “He came to our Valentine’s dinner with my mom and grandma.”

  “Oh, shit.” Ahmet paled.

  “Mr. Bushkar. We’d like you and Mr. Ferraro to press charges against this guy.”

  “I tried that once.” Ahmet’s eyes sparked with indignation. “It didn’t do anything but earn me a fat lip. That’s why I hired Archer.” He took a breath. “I didn’t want to hire a-a thug or anything like that, so Archer’s idea was all I had.”

  “Hey, Ahmet.” Archer placed a hand gently on his ankle. “Take a deep breath.” He did. “Would it help to tell you my eighty-five-year-old grandma whacked Brett upside the head with a bouquet of flowers?”

  Ahmet huffed, but a tiny smile peeked out. “She did not.”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “It’s true,” I said. “And she called him a bastard.”

  Ahmet smiled and ducked his head. “That’s amazing. I wish I could have seen it.” He glanced at Greg. “I’ll consent to photos and a statement for evidence. Let me think about the charges.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” Greg went to talk to the doctors to get a forensic nurse and an officer in to see him.

  Archer put a hand on Ahmet’s shoulder. “I’ll press charges with you, and I’ll go with you if there’s a court hearing. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  Ahmet licked his lips. “Hell, if your eighty-five-year-old grandmother could stand up to him, I can too.”

  “You did,” Archer pointed out. “You broke up with him, remember?”

  Ahmet nodded to himself. “Let’s do it.”

  Archer smiled.

  ***

  After a few hours, Greg drove Ahmet home, and we took a cab to Archer’s place.

  We stumbled through the bedroom door, tearing our clothes off, only I couldn’t stand it and had to hang Archer’s suit and cashmere sweater in the closet. He’d looked too good in them to let them wrinkle on the floor.

  Archer waited with his hands on his bare hips and an indulgent smile. “I didn’t know you were such a neat freak.”

  I shrugged, unable to come up with something that wouldn’t make me sound like a lunatic. Archer didn’t care, though—he was too busy ridding me of the rest of my clothes.

  “You’re so hot.” Archer kissed my jaw, under my ear. “I wanted to get you out of this suit all night. Lick your whole body.”

  I moaned when he hit a sensitive spot on my neck, and he responded by rubbing his hard cock on my thigh.

  “Oh, Arturo.” I held my breath and sucked my lower lip between my teeth when Archer stopped. I couldn’t hold it in when I caught a glimpse of his face and burst out laughing.

  Archer growled. “My dick just went soft.”

  “This dick?” I asked, gripping it firmly. “I don’t think this is the one you meant, because it’s hard as a rock.”

  “My mental dick.”

  I snickered as he backed me toward the bed. “What’s wrong with Arturo?”

  “I was named after a great uncle. It’s an old man’s name. At least, that’s what I thought as a little kid who constantly got made fun of for having a name like Arturo.”

  “I’m sorry. But you know what? I don’t think Archie’s much better.”

  Archer smacked my ass, and I laughed and fell forward onto the bed.

  “I didn’t think about the nicknames when I stared insisting everyone call me Archer. I was a dumb kid.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. “I won’t call you that, if you hate it so much.”

  “I don’t hate it anymore, but I’ve been Archer longer than I was ever Arturo, so it’s what I’m used to.”

  I twisted around to kiss him and sucked his tongue into my mouth. “How do you want me?”

  Archer raised his brows. “You want to bottom this time? Are you sure?”

  “Very sure.” I slid my hand up his shaft, and he sucked in a breath.

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Oh, I am, am I?”

  “Mhmm.” Archer sucked a bruise on my neck, and I gasped. “So, boss me.”

  I smiled at his saucy tone and said, “I want to sixty-nine first.”

  “Ugh. Seriously?”

  I paused, worried for a split second. Archer’s eyes danced with suppressed laughter, and I smacked his chest. “You’re such a brat!”

  The laughter broke free, and Archer flipped onto his side, cock in my face. He manhandled me until my hips were in his face.

  “You’re so easy.”

  “Shh, don’t tell anyone.”

  Archer licked a stripe up my cock while laughing, which was…interesting.

  I took him into my mouth deep on the first try, and he grunted for real this time. His hot breath on my balls made them tighten, and Archer bathed them in spit, then blew a cold stream of air. I shivered and thrust forward while sucking harder.

  I took out all my frustrations on his cock, and he moaned louder. Finally, he swallowed me down, and I sighed in relief. We writhed against each other, wanting to thrust but holding off. I groped for the lube I’d spotted on the bed without stopping and coated my fingers. I rubbed and fingered myself while blowing Archer’s mind, which I knew because he popped off to tell me. Coordination at its finest.

  When I tasted the first spurt of precome, I stopped and squeezed the base of Archer’s cock. He grunted and shot me a questioning look.

  I smiled and rolled. “Front or behind?” He moaned and flipped me over, squishing my face into the mattress. “Behind it is,” I laughed.

  “I want to taste you,” he whispered in my ear. “Is that okay?”

  I broke out in goose bumps. “Hell, yes.”

  Archer moved down my body, massaging and kissing my skin along the way, then grabbed two handfuls of my ass cheeks and separated them. I clenched with nerves, but relaxed when Archer pressed kisses everywhere except where I needed him most.

  Any shyness I’d been feeling vanished as he finally gave me w
hat I wanted. I cried out and squirmed away from his seeking tongue, only to push against his face for more. Archer chuckled, but I barely registered as he licked, probed, and sucked.

  “Fuck! Fuck, Archer! I’m gonna come!”

  Archer stopped, a condom wrapper crinkled, and the tip of his cock nudged my opening. “Ready for me, Jakey?”

  “Yes, God! Please.”

  Archer braced my hips and pushed forward until my body stopped him. I bore down until he was inside me, sliding all the way to the hilt. We hung there for several heartbeats, savoring, adjusting.

  I drew in a deep breath as Archer began to move. It’d been a while, but I used a dildo regularly, so it wasn’t too much for me. I loved the feeling of Archer invading me, plunging in hard, sweat slicking my skin while Archer’s balls tapped mine with every thrust.

  I’d been so close before; I couldn’t last much longer. I grabbed my cock and found myself on my back, blinking at Archer. He grinned and leaned forward to capture my lips as he slid inside me.

  “Fuck!”

  “Jake.” Archer moaned and his hips pistoned faster.

  “Archer, please.” I fisted my cock, but Archer took my hands and pinned them beside my head. He braced himself there, and fucked into me harder, deeper. I stared at his flushed face. His eyes were half-closed, but they never strayed from mine.

  “I’m going to come. I need to…”

  “You can come without it, can’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

  I whipped my head side to side, dug my heels into his flank, and groaned. “I can’t!”

  Archer changed his angle and nailed my prostate dead on instead of grazing it, and I shouted loud enough to scare the pigeons on the roof. My spunk hit my chest and stomach, and my muscles shook, holding me in an orgasmic grasp longer than ever before.

  Everything remained soft and fuzzy for a while, but sleep hadn’t claimed me—more like the high refused to dissipate. Not that I wanted it to. The best orgasm of my life could stick around for as long as it wanted.

  “Jesus,” I croaked.

  Archer laughed and rolled to peer into my eyes. He lifted a lid. “You in there?”