Dead Ink: A Karma World Romance (Karma Series Book 4) (10 page)

All yesterday Lars had thought about how Faith had received a visit from Keith. He’d woken in the night thinking of it. When he’d stood there questioning her about it yesterday, and she’d gotten all feisty, something softened in him. He’d let the subject drop, or tried to.

Here he was, the next morning, and it was still plaguing him. He looked over where she was huddled under the blankets on his bed and cursed himself for going soft on her all the time. She was just another chick.

He walked over to the table where her purse sat as she lay sleeping. He dug around until he found her phone, refusing to play the sap to a pretty face. He flipped down the call list on her phone. Nothing. No messages other than a couple from the guys asking if she was having an okay day and if
he was being mean to her
.

She’d only been with him for a couple of days and the three of them were turning into mother hens. It was downright embarrassing. And to act like he would be mean? Why? Because he was the only one, other than Fate, trying to keep his head about the situation?

He looked at another text message, something about getting new shoes. She could be a spy and they wanted to take her shoe shopping.

Still, there was nothing on her phone. It was just as Cutty had said. He hadn’t trusted him when he’d said it, though. Cutty was probably the softest on her out of all of them. The way he was acting, he was practically forcing Lars to check up on her.

All three of them needed to stop being so soft. If he told them she’d been outside talking to Keith, maybe they wouldn’t feel so protective. But even though the suspicions had been eating away at him, he hadn’t told the guys yet. He just hadn’t had a chance. Maybe he should call Cutty and tell him.

Nah, it could wait until he saw him. It wasn’t like it would change anything. 

He heard her pulse pick up and knew she was watching him with her phone in hand. He didn’t know why he did it, but he thumbed the screen again in plain sight, even though he’d already looked at everything. Her heart kicked into a frenzied pace. He slipped the phone back into her purse.

He looked at her, undaunted by what she’d just seen him do. No, that was a lie. He was pushing her buttons on purpose and he knew it. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it, though.

He watched her and waited. Would she make a thing over it or act like it hadn’t happened? Would her temper come out, like it had yesterday? He could see her deciding as they stared at each other.

Calling him out would be an act of stupidity. She had no power and nowhere to go. It was a dumb idea to back him into a corner. Fake niceties were better than none at all. If she said nothing, he might have more respect for her intellect but think far less of her as a person for allowing an action like that to go unchallenged.

So which would she be? Prideful idiot or smart doormat?

He could see the decision click into place. She got up casually and headed toward the kitchen area but didn’t say anything.

He found himself disappointed at the lack of response. He guessed it was a good thing that she could maintain her emotions but it made him want to start shuffling through her purse and bag, upping the ante until she cracked.

No, he had to step away from the purse. This desire to get her dander up was completely irrational and utterly out of character for him. Normally he wanted to keep the women around him calm so he could shuffle them out the door easier. What the hell was he doing?

He watched her pour herself some coffee as he squashed this ridiculous disappointment he had.

“It would be foolish to think you would trust me.” The coffee pot went down so hard he was glad it was the thermos type.

A little bubble of excitement perked in him. “I’m glad you understand.”

“Of course I do,” she said but she wasn’t looking at him.

He watched intently as she reached into the fridge to get some milk for her coffee. Why did he feel so excited about watching her spark to life?  She left the kitchen and walked over to the couch. She sat down in the darkest spot of the room but it didn’t matter. His eyesight didn’t need bright lights to see.

Well this was curious. She didn’t look so much pissed as upset. It was there in the way she bit her lip, as if trying to keep her thoughts and words to herself. She kept turning her face away from him, as if she had an inkling the shady corner wasn’t giving her the cover she’d hoped for.

This wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped for. Her shooting arrows at him was one thing. He expected her to get angry, like she had yesterday, let it out and then she’d be fine. Upset? He didn’t want this. What if she was in a mood all day? He should leave. Call Cutty, let him come get her and take her for the day. He pulled his phone out as he walked toward the door.

He dialed Cutty and hung up. The phone rang back almost immediately in a predictably Cutty fashion.

“Yeah?” Lars answered as he brought it to his ear.

“What did you call for?” Cutty asked.

Lars’ hand gripped the phone and then answered. “Nothing.” He shouldn’t dump this on Cutty. It wasn’t like the other problems he dumped on him. What if she really was like this all day? No, he’d caused it; he’d have to deal with it.

“You sure?” Cutty asked.

“Yeah.” He hit end and pocketed the phone. He looked at her, still sitting there in that
mood,
and found he was the one getting pissed. What did she expect? He made it a few steps toward Faith before he walked over to the kitchen counter instead.

“Malokin doesn’t recruit innocents,” he said in Faith’s direction, as an explanation of sorts. He wasn’t wrong. She was. The whole situation was ridiculous. Did she really expect him to completely trust her?

“I figured that out.” She reached over, grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, the volume not exactly at a level conducive to talking.

“And he doesn't think they’re a love match with his man in charge of spreading fucking despair!” he said over the blaring television.

She replied by turning the volume up.

Where was all this coming from? What happened to the agreeable girl that had walked into his shop? Or the angry one outside yesterday? And what the hell did she want from him? She was the one with the shady past. She’d come to him, not the other way around. He’d taken her in and was offering her protection but he couldn’t pretend it was natural to trust her.

“What am I supposed to do? Roll out the red carpet so you can stab me in the back while I sleep?” he asked, forced to scream now.

One look at her face told him those were the wrong words. Now, she was very definitely pissed but not like she had been yesterday. She looked like she didn’t even want to bother waiting for him to sleep. Like she wanted to cross the distance and stab him right where he stood.

“That’s what you think of me?” she said, her voice so low normal human hearing wouldn’t have been able to make out the words under the noise coming from the TV speakers.

Lars walked over and muted the TV, and threw the remote on the couch. “What am I supposed to think, when you’re supposedly this guy’s soul mate? No, I'm sorry, ‘the one for him,’ that was what you were called.” What a ridiculous thing to say someone anyway. What? Were they all stuck in high school, where there was only one person for everyone? He wanted to find Keith and punch in him the mouth for even uttering something as juvenile as that.

She grabbed her coffee mug and walked into the kitchen, placing it in the sink with a splash. Without a word, she grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom, the door shutting loudly but just shy of slamming.

He stared at the bathroom door. Why had he thought that pissing her off would be fun? This didn’t feel anything like yesterday had. He left the apartment and there was no question about his door slamming.

Faith looked around the shop, anywhere but at where Lars was bent over a client, tattooing away. This was the last place she felt like being after this morning but she wasn’t going to run out of here either, or call Cutty like she needed to hide behind him. She’d make the situation work, no matter how much of a dick Lars could be.

In truth, she knew she was lucky she had somewhere to go. The unfortunate part was she had to keep reminding herself of that so she didn’t try and rip that tattoo gun out of Lars’ hand and write the word “dick” across his forehead. She could still be living in the woods.

And then there was Keith. He was as crazy as they came and lurking out there, waiting. After yesterday, it was clear he was having the place watched. If things weren’t so crazy in the world right now, she’d take her chances out there. But they were.

As if someone was trying to send her a reminder, she saw a group of thug looking characters walking down the street. Somehow, like always, the craziest of them seemed to have some urge to cross to the other side of the street when they neared the area of the tattoo shop, repelled by whatever magic Lars had around his place.

She stepped away from the window, giving up the thought of going out there until the group was out of sight. She moved about the shop, trying to straighten up and organize like she had for the last few days because she didn’t know what else to do with herself. She was careful to keep the ten-foot buffer, which she’d been maintaining all day, between her and Lars. He’d tried to get closer but she’d thwarted him every time. It didn’t help that other than the clients who came in and out, it was just the two of them in the shop together all day.

She felt his attention land on her again, as it had often done this morning. She’d glance over to find he was indeed looking at her. Her own gaze barely acknowledged him, refusing to meet his eyes. She’d stay there, for now, but damn if she could muster up the pretense of being happy about it.

She was standing on a chair cleaning one of the large front windows an hour later. Lars’ client had left a good twenty minutes ago, and he’d disappeared into the office for a while.

“Hungry?” he asked, startling her from where he was standing behind her. His hand went to her waist to steady her but then dropped. He was only a foot away. She’d lost her buffer. The chair she was standing on had arms, so she had to either leap over one as she jumped down or ask him to move.

She looked down, debating her options while he remained standing there. “Well? Are you hungry?”

He wasn’t supplying her with nourishment, he was offering up a truce. Her stomach was on the verge of growling but then his words from this morning, “
What am I supposed to do? Roll out the red carpet so you can stab me in the back while I sleep?”
rattled in her mind, and overruled the yes she’d almost spoken. “No.” She turned back to the window. This was going to be the cleanest window in all of the Carolinas if he wanted to wait her out.

“You know, you were much more agreeable when you first showed up,” he said, as if baffled at her change in demeanor. He was right, she had been. But she could only paste on a fake smile through so many insults before it wore off.

“I was much more desperate when I first got here.” She rubbed over the same spot again.

“And you aren’t now?”

She turned and looked at him, letting her face and eyes do all the talking before she gave him her back again.

“I didn’t mean that to be insulting. I just don’t understand what changed,” he said.

She was glad she wasn’t looking at him because the confusion, bordering on frustration, she heard in his voice made her want to laugh. He really didn’t understand how much he’d insulted her. This guy really had never been human, and it was showing.

She let out a sigh and took pity on him, at least for this one thing. She turned back toward him. “What’s changed is what I can live with.”

“I don’t get it.” He was shaking his head.

“Lars, what I’m saying is I have my pride, too.”

She could see she’d finally hit on something he understood and then went back to washing the window, considering the matter closed.

“You still haven’t eaten.”

“Thank you but I’m not hungry.”

She was startled when an arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the chair she was standing on.

“What are you doing?” she said just as a client stuck his head in the door.

“Get out,” Lars barked.

“But I’ve got an appointment.”

“I said get out. Why do you stupid people always have to hear everything twice?” With his arm still wrapped around her waist, he walked them both to the door where the person quickly retreated. He clicked the deadbolt in place.

“Put me down right now, Lars.”

He didn’t answer but walked them to the office in back where a lunch was spread out on the desk and an additional chair had been pulled up.

He released her in front of the good chair, his chair, with the really nice padding, located behind the desk. He sat in the one in front of the door, which conveniently blocked it.

“What is this?” She looked down and saw all the containers spread out on the desk. There was Caesar salad, penne vodka, grilled chicken and several other round foil containers filled to the brim.

“Food?” he said. “Even angry people get hungry.” And then he smiled. “It smells good.” He nodded, teasing her as she tried to keep the sour look on her face.

“Where did this come from?”

“Guy that just left. He’s a caterer, or was.”

“There’s a lot of food here.”

“Well, you looked so pissed all day I figured it had to be because you were just
that
hungry.”

She slumped into the chair, realizing her capitulation was getting close. Why did the food have to smell so good and why did he have to keep smiling at her like that? He was a dick. Dicks didn’t smile.

“So, tell me about why you opened an art gallery?” he said, as he filled the plate in front of her with some eggplant and shook out a napkin for her lap.

“You want to hear about my gallery?” she asked, surprised by the question as she eyed up the fork he’d placed beside her plate, the smells chipping away at her annoyance.

“It’s small talk. That’s what humans normally do.”

“Oh.” She guessed that made sense enough. It was stupid to think he cared. It’s not as if he’d asked her anything, besides stuff about Malokin or Keith, since she’d been here.

“And I guess I’m just curious.”

She looked at him, startled by that admission. He wanted to get to know her, and after watching the way he handled most people that came in, she didn’t think he normally showed an interest in any of them. Come to think of it, she’d never heard him making small talk with anyone.

She picked up the fork and felt herself softening a bit. “I guess I wanted to feel like I was contributing in some way to making the world a more beautiful place.” She took a bite and then found herself lobbing a question back at him. “How did you get involved with tattooing?”

“It was a cover, at first, after I left the agency. Then I realized I enjoyed it.”

She thought about the pieces she’d seen him do since she’d been there. “You’re good at your job.”

He looked up from his plate of chicken and smiled. “So are you.”

She shook her head, knowing a false compliment. “How could you know? I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Making the world more beautiful?” He tilted his head and his gaze softened. “Sure you are.”

Her eyes dropped to her plate as her insides lit up like it was a grand fireworks show.

Later on that day she’d barely recall what they’d talked about after that. The only thing that kept going through her mind was that Lars thought she was beautiful.