Page 36 of Dissension

“Not a good man.” Nick stands up after paying the bill. Kara had tried to split with him, but he refused the gesture. “If you think I’m a monster, I can’t even tell you what that makes him.”

Kara gives him a wane smile as she walks out of the restaurant with him. “An Eldritch Terror?”

He snorts. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Jokes aside, what is your beef with him?” Kara presses her chance.

He shakes his head. “The version you see of Dieter is not what lies underneath.” No further elaboration. “And once you know, it isn’t something you can unsee.”

Thatis fucking creepy. “I think you just hate him and his pretty face,” Kara drawls in reply, trying to erase the feeling his words give her.

They come to a halt at the corner where they’ll part ways. He stands over her, such a physical wall of strength beside her petite frame. He holds out his hand. “I propose a truce between us. You stop ignoring me. We become cordial acquaintances.”

Kara narrows her eyes at him. “And what exactly is that getting you?” He wouldn’t ask for this for no small reason.

Nick’s mouth quirks. “It gives me a chance to change your mind about our former arrangement.”

“What if I change your mind?” Kara challenges as she shakes his hand. “What if this sad little associate makes you abandon your mummy's wishes? What if I convince you to drop your sorry miserable engagement?”

He smirks a bit, as if she’s said something utterly impossible to achieve.

“We’ll see, won’t we?” Nick replies, looking down at her, eyes the prettiest of blues. She can feel his gaze echo low in her stomach, pulling behind her navel, heat throbbing there. “Can I kiss you?”

She chokes, because that isn’t what acquaintances do. “No-”

He leans down and presses his mouth to hers, warm and sudden, his large hand on the back of her head, pressing her to him. Kara barely registers that it’s happening, her mouth opening under his, the eagerness of his tongue against hers-

Oh, the liquid heat and the way it blooms into being between her thighs. An aching want, so stinging in its need. Familiar and dark, a siren song of greedy desire. His thigh indecently presses between her legs, rubbing against her core just so.

A swift ringing of need swells there, wanting to be fed.

Kara groans into his mouth even as she determines to push him away. Oh, she’s missed the feel of him-

Nick pulls away, leaving her on shaky legs. His words are a husky whisper as he says, “See you again?” He waves with a smug expression on his face as he starts walking towards his car.

Face red, outraged and aroused, Kara scowls at his back and calls after him, “Excuse me. I said no, you barbarian!”

He looks over his shoulder and grins sharply at her, making her heart flutter. “I know.”

Trouble.

Chapter 15

Drinking her morning coffee, Kara sits on her couch and flicks on the television, flipping through channels aimlessly until a headline catches her eye. She pauses on the local news, because they’re talking aboutThe Warehouse Torturesand the now infamous Paxton Brooker.

It nags at her pride that she’s on the outside looking in on this now, waiting for updates in the same way the public does.

The blonde newscaster is eagerly speaking into the microphone as the crew walks past the rundown, abandoned-looking building in the south quarter of the city. The eerie building has become synonymous with the words pain and ruin. “In a wild turn of events, we’ve received word from a reputable source that a new witness has been found in the unnerving case of the Warehouse Tortures. With the last witness dead -her murder still unsolved, by the way- this is making the story heat up even more! As we understand it, this unnamed witness is going to be kept under police care for their safety-”

Kara stares with an open mouth at the screen. They’ve hadsomeone elsecome forward? She thought the whole case was doomed after ‘X’ was found dead in her rundown apartment on the shady side of town, lips sewn shut, head separated from her withered, track-marked body!

“Our office was mailed a mysterious tape this morning, with the following recording,” the newscaster states before the visual on the screen changes.

It goes theatrically dark, with a distorted vocal recording being played. Kara listens with wide eyes. It sounds like a private police interrogation, something that shouldn’t even be in the hands of the press.

“What even is this? Who leaked the tapes?” Kara complains out loud, turning up the volume. “That’s completely out of line. That’s…that’s…” Someone in the precinct had to have snuck this out, against all the rules.

The voices on the tape are completely tuned in a way that makes it impossible to identify the speakers. Both sound male, despite the distortion.

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