Page 46 of Karma

Those wolf eyes of his turn dark and dangerous, a predator waking in them and making my semi-hard dick actually hard. I would not mind seeing the predator come out all the way. I wouldn’t mind that at all.

“You’ll tell him to include us and he will,” Karma says, sounding very optimistic and smiling even more brightly.

Who am I to try and wipe that smile off her face? Especially when I love seeing it so much.

“We’ll see,” I say, answering both of them. “Now let’s get packed up and hit the road.”

The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get another hotel room. I’ll check in with Joker first, but after that, I’m riding the happy train with these two as far as it’ll take me. After all, tomorrow’s problems are tomorrow’s problem. And the way things stand, I don’t have many of those left. But the ones I do have just started looking a whole lot brighter. So I best make the most of them. It’ll be kinda like the last meal the condemned get. Only better.

PART 3

JUSTICE

23

Scorpio

I reached the forest compound at dusk. What sounds like the entire MC is gathered here, all one-hundred-and-fifty of us. I only see about twenty in the clearing in front of the main building though. The rest are partying it up inside and by the sheer noise level, I’d say it’s been going on for a while.

This compound is comprised of three buildings smack in the middle of a dense redwood forest, practically right under the noses of Devil’s Nightmare MC. The Devils’ HQ is less than twenty miles from here. I don’t see the wisdom of hanging out so close to them, but the planning of this war has been Joker’s domain since he came up with the idea for it fifteen years ago, so I’m fine deferring to him. Fact is, the Devils don’t even know we’re at war with them, so maybe that’s why they don’t pay us any attention.

But we’re about to get their full attention. For better or worse.

The energy around here sure is optimistic. With every step I take towards the main building and down the long windowless hallway the feel of war, of victory and vengeance, growsstronger. Most of the guys are in the huge room that we use for meetings and which the previous owners of this compound used to hold auctions. They sold abducted and unwilling mafia brides here to the highest bidder and most of the rest of these building are full of fancy bedrooms where the clients could sample to goods.

Even with all the loud music, happy conversations and shouting about victory, vengeance and the like, I can still feel the desperation of those women underneath it all, as though it has seeped into the walls of this place and won’t ever go away.

I hate sleeping in any of the bedrooms here, even though they’re all comfortable as hell. But the ghosts of all those women are louder at night. I’m glad we put a stop to what was happening in here. We didn’t even try to sell the women, we just let them go. It’s one of the better things we’ve done.

We own about a dozen strip clubs, but we don’t make our money with whores or sex trafficking. Our money comes from selling on what we steal and dealing in secrets. And Joker is world-class in that.

Several of the guys try to drag me into the party as I walk past the room, yet more want to know where I’ve been. I let them down easy, since I’m not staying long after my face to face with Joker. I left Karma and Grim in a cabin at a camp about five miles from here and it’s like I left a part of my mind with them too. After these last couple of weeks, this seems foreign to me, and with them is where it feels I should be. That’s a lot to unpack. But I don’t think I’m gonna get the time, so I might as well not even try. I’m just gonna ride the train as far as it takes me, see what I see.

“But after you see Joker, come right back down,” Razor says, his arm heavy around my shoulders and his breath reeking of whiskey. “I made some sweet mods to my bike. We gotta race. No way you’re beating me again.”

I peel his arm off my shoulder. “We can do that the next time you’re sober. And no mods exist that’ll let you beat me. It’s all in the wrist.”

He laughs like I’ve said the funniest thing, but that’s just because he’s drunk as fuck.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he slurs and wanders back into the party.

He’s our intel officer, but I guess we got all the intel we need now so he can kick back. And I was just talking bullshit. Winning street races has nothing to do with anything but how willing you are to go past dangerously fast to certain death without getting scared and pulling out. I can go all the way to certain death, what with the number of times I’ve already faced it. Used to be, death held no fear for me.

Can’t believe the fear has managed to creep back, can’t believe just the thought of dying in this war makes my knees weak now. But being back here, in this place that absolutely reeks of imminent death and vengeance the fearlessness is starting to come back to me. Sort of.

I find Joker in his office on the top floor of the building, in one of the few rooms with a window in this whole compound. He’s staring out of it at the dark forest, his back to me as I enter.

“I thought we were gonna meet back up on the road from Chicago,” he says without turning around. “Not that I’d have to chase you down to get you here.”

“I had a few things to get out of my system first,” I say and sit down in one of the plastic garden chairs filling this room. This is where we execs meet and decide shit. Out of the hundred and fifty men downstairs it’s only those few guys I trust fully. The rest I barely know. And I’m their VP. Not what an MC should be. But we’re all about this war and for war you need bodies and we’ve amassed quite a number in the last couple of years.

“And did you?” he asks, turning around and piercing me with a hard glared. Even in the dim light in here his eyes look toolight. Whitish blue. Like a new knife or something. He’s real mad at me.

I almost tell him the truth. I almost tell him that I’m not even close to getting Karma and Grim out of my system and that I might never be. But they’ll have to stay a secret from him a little longer. Maybe forever, given the war.

“Sure,” I say instead and lean back in my chair. “I’m here now, so what do you need me for?”

I’m hoping getting down to business will prevent him from dwelling on questioning my readiness to fight in the war. We don’t need to have that conversation. I’m all in. I’m with him. Even if I’d rather not be.

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