Page 22 of Karma

I don’t know what to say to that so I say nothing, working on pretending the sentiment didn’t slash me right across the heart.

He clears his throat and runs his hand thorough his hair. “Without you, I mean. Whatever else happens, I don’t want to just have the memories. I want you.”

He’s speaking so quietly I’m not sure I heard him right. I’m also not sure those words weren’t something my tired, already half-dreaming mind is trying to force on me.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he adds.

I’m fully aware I’m just staring at him with a totally blank expression on my face, but I can’t stop doing it. I’m still trying to decide if I’m just dreaming. Is he even sitting on his bike in front of me? Or is he long gone and I’m standing here having this conversation with no one?

“You don’t feel the same way,” he says and even though it should be a question it’s just a very cold statement.

Cold enough to wake me from my weird mental limbo.

Because he is here, and he is saying exactly what I wanted to hear. And I may not have full control over my mind yet, but I know enough to leap off my bike and wrap my arms around his neck as I climb into his lap.

For a few breathtaking moments his bike wobbles beneath us like it’s about to topple over. But he steadies it and then his strong arms are holding me tight and we’re kissing and everything is once again perfect in my world. The dream one and the real one.

He tastes like the long road we’ve traveled to get here, and the long road ahead of us. The one I hope will never run out. Just like I hope this kiss will never end.

“So I’ll come with you to LA,” he says as we break apart and are just holding each other. “And then you can come up north with me.”

“OK, I’ll go to war with you,” I say and wrap my arms even tighter around his neck.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. “Then again, Grim might kill me long before we get that far.”

He chuckles and it’s a nervous kind of laugh.

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” he says. “He looks like he has it in him to become quite the berserker. What with that Nordic hugeness and temper of his.”

I laugh. “He does. But I won’t let him hurt you.”

“OK, my life is in your hands then.” He chuckles again and then kisses me, his laugh entering me like a butterfly with glowing wings, reaching all the places that have filled with darkness since he told me we have no future. And even lighting some of the places that have been dark long before that.

We might not have a lot of future, but what we do have I’m spending with him. Grim’ll just have to get used to it.

Besides, given how much I like Scorpio, Grim might like him too. Maybe that’s a dream, maybe it’s reality, I don’t really care to try and figure out the difference right now. There was only darkness before and now there’s light. And that’s all that really matters.

PART 2

LOS ANGELES

11

Grim

After the way I treated Karma, I would’ve come anywhere she wanted me to. So I could grovel and beg her to take me back. She wanted me in LA so here I am. But I can’t grovel because she’s here with that Scorpio guy, one of the Lost Sons. And they didn’t just meet randomly either. They came here together. From wherever they were, also together, while she wasn’t answering my texts. She hasn’t admitted as much, and I haven’t asked, but it’s written all over their faces that they’re into each other. I wish I saw some guilt in hers too, but I don’t.

They’ve been here together for the past two days too, waiting for me. Sharing a room in the falling down hotel across the street.

They haven’t so much as brushed hands since I got here and they’re even sitting at opposite sides of the table, but the energy between them… they might as well be doing it right here on the table in front of me.

Those glances they keep exchanging. Like fire. He’s glancing at me too. And I can’t tell if it’s shame, or something else. Looks a hell of a lot like interest. Like some sort of question he wantsme to answer. And not at all like guilt for stealing my woman. I’ll have to fix that.

Scorpio’s already caused fights between us while Reaper was still alive. And those were nothing to sneer at, but the one he’s caused by fucking Karma behind my back will make them all look inconsequential in comparison.

We’re in a seedy dive bar with sticky floor, chairs and tables, in a seedy part of LA. The place is filled with people who’ve long since given up all dreams except the ones revolving around getting high and having a good time. The music and chatter’s so loud I can hardly hear myself think. Let alone have a conversation. Not that I’m interested in talking. I’m gonna stake my claim, one way or another, and the way my blood keeps boiling worse and worse the louder the music gets, it won’t be pretty. I need some air. I need some alone time with Karma. Or I’ll blow and damn the consequences.

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