Page 55 of Karma

“Cooling off isn’t gonna fix this. I’m gonna have a talk with him.”

I just wish I knew what the hell I’m gonna say. That’s her question too, as I’m leaving the room, but I ignore it for precisely that reason.

The misty morning sunlight isn’t so nice and soft outside. It pierces my eyes like a nuclear explosion as it reflects off the metal of all the bikes parked out front. The bar is soothingly dark though, but Scorpio’s not there. Probably because a group of guys and girls are having a loud orgy over by the pool tables. I don’t want this stark reminder of what the three of us could be doing upstairs instead of me having to chase after him, because he’s acting like a hysterical woman. But that’s harsh. If I really meant it, I wouldn’t be out here chasing him.

I don’t see his bike right away when I come back outside, which makes me sad as I think that maybe he rode off and I’ll have to wait to deliver this apology. Or whatever the fuck I’m doing. I haven’t figured it out yet. But then I spot his bike parked at the edge of the building and a few moments later, I find him in our spot by the back wall, sitting on the dirt with an open bottle of bourbon next to him.

He leaps to his feet as he sees me, every one of those muscles of his that I want to still be touching tight and poised for a fight.

“What do you want?” he asks.

I raise my hands up in surrender and keep on walking towards him. “I wanna know.”

“Know what?” he asks, relaxing slightly.

“Why you won’t let me fuck you,” I say and it sounds cheap coming out like that. What I actually want to know is why he won’t surrender himself to me fully like I know we both want. Why he won’t let me make love to him. But I said what I said.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “You think it’s this special thing… like you’ll be conquering me and taking my virginity…”

I sit down next to his bottle, while he remains standing, still all tight and wanting to fight. It’s not what I want.

“That’s not what I was thinking at all.”

He scoffs again. “Don’t lie.”

He’s got me figured out, there’s no two ways about it. But what is surprising is how much I don’t mind it at all that he has.

“You’re way too late for that, by the way,” he says and sits down too, but too far from me to touch. Not that I’d dare to do that yet, anyway.

“So if you’re not afraid of taking my cock, what’s the problem?” I ask, inwardly cringing because none of what I’m saying is coming out like I want it to. “I won’t hurt you.”

He just looks at me, and I can’t tell if it’s in outrage or pain or nightmares or something else entirely. The way the color of his eyes is shifting, like clouds racing across the summer sky, I’m thinking it’s all of that.

“You’re not gonna let this go are you?” he finally asks. “You’re not just gonna be satisfied with a no.”

Karma is coming towards us now and I’m sure she heard his question. Good, I guess. Because she needs to hear this answer too. If there’s a future.

“Probably not,” I say, surprised at my middle of the road sentiment. But the thing is, I want him. Even if that means taking what I can get. “But it won’t be as good as it could be.”

Karma glances at me, but then locks eyes with him, eager to see how this plays out, I suppose. She knows me well enough to know I’m saying exactly what I mean.

“Fine, you wanna know everything?” he says. The ways his eyes are flashing reminds me of the eyes of a cornered man, ready to fight to the end. Or more like the eyes of a lunatic. “Then maybe you’ll fucking drop this. But you also won’t want me the same way.”

Karma slides to the ground next to him and takes his hands in hers. “That won’t happen. Ever.”

The feeling in her voice can’t be lost on him, it’s like a rushing river of need and want and love and all those good things. But he shakes his head anyway and frees his hands from her grip.

“Maybe it’s for the best that you know,” he mutters. “Then you’ll stop coming at me with all your demands for a future.”

I have no idea what to say and Karma’s face is just a frozen picture of confusion and pain. He seems oblivious to it all, his eyes no longer alive with anything, like he’s gone behind some wall in his mind. We’re about to find out what’s on the other side of it and I’m no longer so sure that’s a good idea.

“Where do I start… ” he says. “Maybe with my first boyfriend, Walter. I was fourteen. He was in his forties and my first foster dad. Told me he loved me and I believed him. Didn’t actually figure out anything was wrong with that picture until he started having his friends over and sharing me with them. I was stupid back then and it wouldn’t be the last time that stupidity showed. But I got away from him.”

He pauses for a breath, and if I wasn’t seeing red wanting to find this Walter and beat him to a bloody pulp I might actually find something encouraging to say. Karma seems to be dealing with a similar problem.

“Then there was the group home, where I also didn’t manage not to get raped a bunch,” he says and as much as he’s tryingto just tell it, his voice cracks anyway. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like. I don’t want to. I just know I want the people who did those things to burn. “I was already damaged goods after Honey died, and after Walter and all of that, I had no hope of getting placed in a decent foster home.

“So I decided I was better off on the streets,” he says. “At least that way, I’d be getting paid for it, right?”

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