Page 13 of Karma

She raises the ice pick and stabs it into his left hand, then the right. Adam’s screams rejuvenate the night. She stabs into his eye socket next, and the screams stop.

Now I need to figure out what I’ll tell the others. Killing an elder is certain death.

Oh no, Adam and I were ambushed. He was killed.

The story works for me, but will it work for them? I’ll find out soon enough.

I stare at the back of Miss Karma’s head as I back away. When I’ve put some distance between us, I take off toward the car. I make it half a block before I’m speared to the ground, disoriented as fuck. There’s no way the girl caught up to me, nor would she have the strength to take me out like this.

My side scrapes against the cobblestone pathway as we roll to the ground. I reach back for my pistol—any one of them—but a hand wraps around my wrist and presses my arm against my back, holding me in place. The hold reminds me of something. The police? They’d never. The Exodus has a wide berth of immunity and protection.

So who the fuck has me? And why?

“Sam!” I say as I run toward him. “You came back for me.” I’m glad to see him, but I’m equally surprised he didn’t leave me to my own devices. I curse myself for being happy to see him at all. He fucking left me to deal with two armed men on my own. Would he have cared if I died?

He’s pinned the man beneath him. He grabs my pistol from his waistband and throws it toward me, and I aim it at the stranger.

“I knew you’d get into trouble here.” He shoves his chin toward me, then reaches down and grabs the other two pistols, tossing them at my feet. “You’re unarmed, dickhead.”

“Then kill me already,” Knox snarls.

“That will happen soon enough. When you’re begging for death,” I say. I pluck handcuffs from my belt and help Sam restrain him.

“You’re kidnapping me?” Knox asks.

“Bit too old to be kidnapped,” I say with a smirk as I squat in front of him.

His masculine scent rises to my nose, and I’m suddenly aware of every rippling muscle beneath his dress shirt. Messy, dark hair falls over his mask, but I want to see his face. I rip the mask away, revealing haunting gray eyes.

He’s the man from the parking lot. The one who stepped between me and Sam.

The humanity beneath the mask catches me off guard. How could he have been a kind person mere hours ago, then turn into a savage who kills defenseless homeless people? He looks normal. Handsome, even. He doesn’t look like a monster or have some grotesque disfigurement he’s hiding beneath the latex and plastic.

But if they aren’t monsters beneath masks, how could they have done such a horrible thing to my father?

My eyes scan Sam’s face for signs of recognition, but I see nothing. How could he forget the face of someone who got between us to keep him from punching me? How much did that rage blind him?

Knox’s eyes roll up to mine.

“Hello, karma,” he whispers.

A chill rakes my spine. We both recognize each other now. That’s very clear.

Hello. Karma.

We get him up on his feet and walk him toward the alley. I’m surprised he hasn’t yelled for his friends, since I’m sure there are more of them. Without a peep, he walks with his arms behind his back and his gaze on the ground.

After a while, Sam pulls ahead of us. I keep glancing at the man. I still can’t believe it’s the same guy.

“I should have let him do what he does best,” he whispers beside me.

“You’re right. And you probably should have run.” I’m glad he didn’t, in a way, but he should have taken off when he had the chance.

“Curse my conscience,” he says.

“If you had one of those,” I say, “you wouldn’t be out here.”

“You’re out here, aren’t you?” he says, his gray eyes forcing their way into mine.

---