Page 37 of Karma

Scorpio

I didn’t get my wish to have Karma ride on my bike. She gave that honor to Grim, who seemed happy for the first time since I met him because of it. So I couldn’t complain. Especially since I got great views of her long legs in the short leather miniskirt she ended up wearing. Guess she really took me up on my suggestion to dress nice. The tattoos on her legs are just as pretty as the ones on her stomach and back—flowers and swirly things—and nowhere near as dark and ominous as the ones on her arms.

But none of them are as beautiful as our cabin that she got inked onto her belly. She showed it to me when she came into my room to dress, having already showered with Grim. That bugged me. Made me wonder all over again how this threesome thing is supposed to work. I’ve shared women with guys before, but never with a woman I want all to myself. Beautiful and heartwarming as the tattoo is, the tattoo annoyed me too. Because it means she’s getting too attached.

I’m only in this to pass the time before I have to go to war that I’m most likely not coming back from. How is she gonna deal with that? She’s just lost a lover not that long ago and got atattoo for him too. That’s what our cabin will end up being too—a shrine to what might have been. Damn depressing.

Even the sight of her gorgeous legs wrapped around Grim’s didn’t help to wash away the bitterness of that thought.

But I told her exactly how things stand with me. I didn’t lie. It’s on her if she’s getting too attached. Right?

As for Grim, it’s been a while since a guy’s held my interest the way he does. He’s wearing a different pair of jeans today, ones that fit him just a little bit better, and with that plain cowboy shirt tucked so neatly into them… I just really want to take it off him. We made some sort of a connection last night, but on the whole, I doubt he’s gonna be sorry to see me go.

He’s not a big talker, mostly he just communicates with his eyes and hands, and sometimes grunts. I don’t know if I’m reading any of that correctly. But even that’s fun. Because in a couple weeks when Joker finally puts his grand revenge plan in action, I doubt anything will be fun ever again.

We’ve finished our tacos and are just sitting here at our window booth, finishing our beers and letting the world roll by. This place is busy and they could probably use our table since so many people keep coming in, but who’s gonna kick us out? We look exactly like what we are—three killers up for anything.

Karma’s leaning against Grim, but has her long legs pressed against mine, which works great. Although I wouldn’t mind having more of her to touch.

I don’t much like how almost every guy who walks in—whether he has a wife and/or children in tow—checks her out. She’s definitely the kind of beauty that needs two guys taking care of her. Though to be honest, she can take care of herself just fine too.

“I spoke to Isabella about putting me in touch with Zane,” she says, eyeing Grim from the corner of her eye like she doesn’t want to look at him straight on.

I can kinda-sorta tell why, because that intense energy that crackles around him like a force field starts buzzing louder and his eyes turn as sharp as a knife.

“No one can give us new identities,” he says. “Not the kind that’ll let you live a normal life.”

“Zane killed a priest,” she says. “If they can protect him enough so that he can live here in LA, then they can do something for us. I’m sure.”

She doesn’t look it though, and that underlying sadness in her eyes, the fear that she’s never gonna get what she wants the most—a normal life—rubs me the wrong way in all sorts of way. Mostly it makes me sad for her, which pisses me off.

“No one’s gonna do anything for you for nothing.”

I can’t decide whether to jump into this conversation or just let them have it. I could tell them about the town of Justice, the one no one but us Lost Sons know about. They could live free there. But it’s not exactly LA. It’s just a tiny town in the middle of the Nevada desert, and who knows how much of it will be left after Joker lures the Devils there. Besides, all that’s supposed to be a secret from anyone not a member of our MC. Even some of our new members don’t know every in and out of Joker’s plan, given how our numbers have swelled in the last year. But I wanna tell her about it, just to make her happy. No idea where that’s coming from. Probably because she now has my favorite place in the world inked into her skin.

“I don’t want to live on the run for the rest of my life,” she tells Grim and this time does look at him square in the eyes. “I wanna try.”

He grunts and says nothing. But the way they’re locking eyes makes me think something’s about to catch fire from all that intense glaring.

“Normal life is overrated,” I say and point at the other full tables all around us where husbands and wives are eitherarguing or stuffing their faces in silence, and their kids are either screaming or beating each other up. “I mean just look at this place. What’s here that you can’t have? Or that you really want?”

Karma glares at me. “The freedom to be here every night I choose without having to worry about getting found and thrown in jail.” She sits up and looks around. “And this place is clean. All I ever see are dirty places where I’d rather not touch anything. And don’t even get me started on the hotels and motels I have to sleep in.”

The way her eyes are already sparking, I really would rather she not get started on any of that. Grim looks angry, but also like he’s heard it all before.

“Nothing in LA is clean,” I say. “Or in any other city. I know, I’ve seen them all. And I got to know some of them way better than I wanted to.”

“I don’t want to be a fugitive anymore,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and wincing as the act aggravates her new tattoos. “I want to be free.”

“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I say. “You are free. Way more free than anyone else in here. You get to do what you want, when you want, with who you want…”

I pause to give her a wink which is supposed to put her in a better mood, but she’s having none of that.

“Yeah? What makes you such an expert on all this?”

I shrug. “Years and years spent on the streets wanting what you want. But it never turned out good. And trust me, it’s the normal people you gotta worry about the most. The more normal they look the freakier they are.”

Just poking at all that a little bit makes me want to run out of here and ride real far. Go where there’s only me, the road and green things. I hate that reaction. I also hate that it’s the two of them bringing it all up when I really do want to try both of them together.

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