Page 35 of Karma

For all his talk of leaving, he’s just standing there, between the bed and the door, fully dressed and still kinda smiling with his eyes. He is pretty. In and out of his clothes. And he’s got a way of saying what you need to hear, even if I’m not sure he knows it. I can see why Karma fell for him. And why she doesn’t want to give him up.

So all I can do is say the only logical thing.

“You can stay.”

“You sure?”

He doesn’t believe me. No surprise there, because I don’t believe it myself.

“No.”

That makes him laugh. It’s a nice sound. Friendly. Inviting. Wholesome, somehow. Even though he’s probably more broken than even Karma was when she came to Reaper and me.

“But I’m as sure as I’m ever gonna be.”

He laughs again. I could grow used to hearing more of that laugh.

“All right, fair enough,” he says and walks over to the table to pick up the bottle of bourbon I was using to try and not remember or feel anything. Kinda failed at both.

He joins me on the bed and drinks before offering me some. He’s got the right idea so I drink too.

Maybe we’ll manage to forget together, maybe we’ll kiss some more, maybe I’ll even figure out why I asked him to stay. Either way, it beats drinking alone and a decision’s been made. Maybe it was even the right one. But I’m not holding my breath. Because I haven’t made many of those lately.

16

Karma

We pushed it all night, Isabella lost in her art, me sitting back and trying not to fight the pain. That always makes it worse. I had a few low points, especially when I realized the reason I can take so much pain is because I’ve had to.

But that passed and before the sun came up, I had a beautiful sunset by the lake scene to remember forever inked into my skin. Isabella invited me to stay the night, but I left, because I couldn’t wait to go back and find out how much of a memory the tattoo will have to be. Whether it’s the sign of something new, or just something to be remembered.

The roads were blissfully clear in the predawn darkness and even the area around the hotel was quiet. It’s something I’ve noticed about big cities. They only seem to sleep in the hour or so before the sun rises.

A new beginning, definitely.

That was my first thought as I used the spare key to let myself into Grim’s room like I’d promised him I would. He and Scorpio were both sleeping on the king-size bed, each on his own side, with an empty bottle of whiskey between them, but it’s a goodstart and I didn’t waste much time slipping between them where there was just enough room for me. I don’t think I’ve ever fallen asleep as fast as I did.

It was the throbbing pain in my side more than the bright sunlight that woke me what feels like a whole day later. But Scorpio is still sleeping beside me, his face pressed against my shoulder and his arm over my waist. That’s the reason my tattoo hurts, but I welcome the pain. I’ve grown so used to waking up in his arms that I’d put up with a lot to have it continue.

But Grim is sitting at the table by the window, giving me that intense look he always gets when he’s got something to say. Is it something I won’t like? Only one way to find out.

Scorpio only grunts a little, but remains asleep as I extricate myself from under his arm to get up and stretch, ignoring the pain as the raw skin under my new tattoos pulls painfully.

“Good morning,” Grim says in that gruff voice of his that never fails to make my bones tingle. I slept in my tank top and panties, so he’s getting his first good look at me in over a week. If I had any doubt that his breaking up with me held any true intention, I don’t have it anymore, as his eyes scratch my skin with desire, adding a deeper tone to the tingle in my bones.

I walk to him slowly, enjoying the desire pulsing between us, growing hotter and hotter, filling the whole room by the time I straddle his lap and lean down to kiss him, because a simple spokengood morningis just not enough.

As always, the whole world opens for me when we kiss. And it doesn’t matter if we’re in a dirty hotel room, the side of a long winding road or in a tent in some vast forest. It doesn’t matter if we’re free. Because when we kiss, we are always free.

“I got this,” I say once we’re done tasting freedom and he’s just holding me, his cock pulsing gently against my pussy.

I roll down the top of my tank top and peel away the bandage covering Reaper’s tattoo. I feel his attention draw away from meas his eyes land on what was and what might’ve still been had Reaper not been ripped from us on that cold night. The images over my heart tell a nice story about all that. They’ll have to do. But they’ll never be enough.

“It’s beautiful,” he says hoarsely. But with an edge. Like he’s done seeing it. Done remembering. So I cover it back up.

The bed creaking tells me Scorpio’s up even before he yawns loudly. He looks very awake when I smile at him over my shoulder.

“Good, you’re up,” I say. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

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