When Karma Comes To Call (3 page)

Arsen’s words snap me from my daze.

“Yeah, I’m here. I’ll be out in a minute,” I say, running my hand over my face. The water’s cold, and I wonder how long I’ve been away with the fairies. I turn off the water, and pull myself up. The hot water loosened stiff muscles and the delicious blankness holds. I go through the motions like a robot and emerge from the bathroom wrapped in a robe.

“Here.”

I jump. Arsen leans against the wall beside the door. I have no doubt he would’ve broken in if he thought it necessary. I focus on the item in his hands and realize it’s a black garbage bag. “Put everything from tonight in here. Then I’ll go over the bathroom with bleach.”

His nonchalance scares the shit out of me. It’s clear he’s done this before. I do a slow blink.

“You cracking up on me, girl?” He narrows his gaze and leans in.

Unable to speak, I shake my head, take the garbage bag with one hand, and grip my towel tightly with the other.

“I put some shit on the bed for you. I’m going to get some cleaning products. Leave the bag with everything outside. You getting this?”

“Yeah, I got it, Arsen.”

His lips quirk up. “You’re listening to what’s going on around you. I wasn’t sure.” I sense approval in his voice, and it pleases me.
How long does it take to develop Stockholm syndrome?
He slips from the room in the soundless way he has, and I’m left to pack away the night. Uncertainty about the future fills my mind.
What do I have to offer an M.C.?
The concept of giving them money offended Demon, their president. I try to recall everything I gleaned from
Sons of Anarchy
and come up short. The last year has been a blur centered on building myself up from the inside out, and everything else was unimportant. I tie the bag, leave the towel hung up on the rack, and quickly walk to the bed. I pull on the black boxers and a Dueling Devils T-shirt. The scent of leather and Arsen surrounds me. I close my eyes and inhale. The man gets to me. He shouldn’t. I need to be smarter. But right now, I don’t have the strength to keep fighting the pull.

Chapter Two

Arsen

I grab the bleach from under the kitchen sink and stall to give the girl, Karma, time to change. It’s strange having a bitch in my room. Most of the girls around here know the deal. We both get off, and they get out. I like my privacy. The fewer people I have in my business, the better off I am. You open up, spill your guts to the wrong person, and it gets your shit fucked up. I don’t give my trust lightly, and the word relationship isn’t in my vocab.

“You been holding out on us?”

I look up and see Hound.

“Keep it in your pants, Hound. She’s off limits,” I say with sneer. The man’s a pussy hound, always sniffing after everything with two legs.

“First time I ever heard you say that.” The awe in Hound’s voice amuses me. He thinks I’m in love with her or some shit. I shake my head.

“Got shit to attend to, H.”   

He looks down at the bleach in my hand. The color fades from his face. “Are … you didn’t kill her, did you?”

“Fuck no. You think I’d parade her ass through the club if I was going to do that?” I ask, exasperated.

“No, no you wouldn’t,” Hound replies.

I can tell it’s more for his benefit than mine. I know what they think about me. They call me Slayer for a reason, and most don’t know the half of the details about my job. I do things most would have no stomach for. If I had to kill her, I would. It’s all about the big picture, and keeping our family safe. The way I couldn’t do for Caitlin. Slamming the mental door I walk back to my room. When I open the door, I find her sitting on the bed in my clothing. Karma’s zombie like. She’s in shock. People can make bad decision when they’re that out of it. I take the time to study her. I have to admit, my clothes look good on her. Her breasts are full and round, and her legs are long and sculpted. I can’t help but wonder what they’d look like wrapped around me. My lids lower and I remember why I was on my way here originally. We study one another as I set down the bleach. I walk back to the doorway and look out into the hallway. I catch the sight of a stocky man with no patches.

“Prospect,” I bark. He looks up and goes still, a deer in headlights. “Come here, got a job for you.”

He jogs over. “Burn this, and make sure you take the ashes to the dump.”

“You got it, Arsen.” He scurries off, eager to please, and I wonder if this is how I looked when I prospected.

I shut the door and walk into the bathroom. It’s possible nothing transferred, but I’m not willing to hang everything on that. I twist the cap off, and the familiar scent fills the tiny space. I go into a zone, covering every area she came into contact with. Now and then, the cops get a wild hair and come busting our balls if they get a hold of evidence they think they can pin on us. I don’t want to make their job any easier. It’s been a while since we had a shake down. It’s probably about time some cop trying to climb the ranks sets his sights on us. Most know better. The Devils have grown a bit every year, most of the higher ups are in our pocket.

I pull white towels out of the cabinet and wipe everything down. Satisfied, I bag the towels and take them to the laundry room for someone to wash. I’ll have the prospects give the place a thorough once over tomorrow to cover the main area.

I see Lefty walking toward me. “We’ve talked it over, and want to get your input,” Lefty says.

“Need someone to sit with her at least. Girl’s still in shock, don’t want her getting stupid and thinking too hard.”

“All right, let me grab Chase.” Lefty cups his mouth. “Chase.” She turns and he waves her over. “Need you to sit with someone for us.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“She just saw some shit, and she’s teetering on the edge. I need you to keep her head on straight,” I explain.

“Yup, I can do that,” Chase replies.

“I know, you’re good at putting people at ease. I see you around.”

“Slayer’s noticed me, huh? I don’t know if I’m flattered, or scared,” Chase said.

“Be flattered,” I suggest as we reach my door. She’s a sexy thing. But it’s the way she carries herself that I like most.

I open it and Karma stands. “This is Chase. She’s going to sit with you until I get back. Chase this is—”

“Karma Good, holy shit! I have all of your music,” Chase exclaims.

Karma blinks. “You do?”

“Shit yeah. Damn, woman, you have a set of pipes on you. And the package it comes out of isn’t bad either,” Chase says with a wink.

Karma’s mouth forms an O, and I chuckle. There are many reasons why Chase fits in so well around here. If women wore cuts, I could see her prospecting and quickly being voted in.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” I say, stepping out.

“Can’t believe we have a fucking celebrity in the house. And she’s fucking hot. I’m married, but I ain’t dead or blind,” Lefty remarks.

I smirk. “Don’t let your old lady hear that.”

“Yeah, well you left her with Chase, she might have a girlfriend by the time we come to get her,” Lefty joked. Chase’s duality was a long speculated issue. She never confirmed nor denied when asked.

We enter the meeting room, and I find a space to park.

“How’s the girl?” Demon asks

“Steadyish.”

“Better than some,” Lefty says with a shrug.

“We talked it over. She could be good for us. We want to get into more legal avenues and branch out with places to wash our money. Let’s face it, that woman could be our cash cow,” Demon states.

“She’s trying to come back. I don’t think the money is coming in.” 

“I know, but with a little TLC and some of our money backing her she could be. I been doing research on her, and she’s hot shit. Sings our kind of music. If we get her on charity events, it could be excellent press. Bring money into town, and keep the locals happy,” Demon explains.

“So you want to what? Manage her?” I ask, frowning. “We don’t know shit about the music business.“

Demon shrugs. “Whatever she wants to call it … manage, sponsor, donate. Hell, I don’t care about names, as long as we’re legally on her paperwork and the numbers add up.”

“So we plan on taking care of her problem for her?” 

“As soon as we figure out what the problem is. Clue’s been looking, but other than the nose candy and one fucked up childhood, with a big time drug dealing daddy, she’s on the up and up. We got him looking into the studio now and the people running it,” Lefty says.

“You think she can handle this?” Demon asks me.

I pause and think of her behavior so far. “Yeah, I do. She’s shaken, but she’s managing it. I don’t know her well enough to vouch fully for her. But I’ll keep an eye on her,” I state, shocking both of us.

“You got something you need to tell me, Slayer?” Demon questions.

“She’s a strong bitch. I respect her for that. Simple enough?”

“That’s plenty,” Demon replies. “Send a prospect out to get her some shit and make her comfortable. We’ll work out the details tomorrow when I know more.”

“All right, I’ll go get her details and talk to a prospect.” I push away from the table.

“Keep her close to you, Slayer. We don’t want someone looking for ass to screw this for us.”

“She’ll be safe with me,” I say, cursing my luck. All the drama is pushing back the reunion with Arden. Stepping out into the hall, I pull out my telephone and call my sister.

“Arsen, are you okay?” she asks.

I chuckle. “Hello to you, too.”

“I never know what I’m going to get with you. I treat enough of your brothers to know the shit you get into it.” Her tone is light, but I hear the worry behind.

I grunt. “You don’t worry about me. I’m good. How are you?”

“Good, busy. You know how it is at the hospital,” she replies.

“I do, what shift are you on now?” I ask, making my way outside.

“Nights.”

“I just got into town. I want to meet up soon,” I say.

“You mean you want to grill me and make sure I’m being a good girl?”

“You giving me shit, Arden?” I ask. The line goes silent, and I grit my teeth. My sister has shit taste in men. It’s left me bailing her ass out of many a mess.

“No, I’m just tired and worried. You didn’t check in like you normally do when you’re away,” she responds, and I hear the concern in her voice.

“Told you I had a situation,” I say gently. I hate that she worries, but the truth is, she has cause to.

“Yeah, you did. I was actually on my break, but I need to get back to it.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll try to set something up.” 

“Okay, big brother, I’ll talk to you soon. Be careful.”

“Always am.“

She sounds good. The last time I had to bail her hard-headed ass out of a sticky situation she didn’t seem right. There was no tremor in her voice, evasion, or avoiding my calls. The tension that had settled into my spine began to ease. Now all I had to do was get things straight with Karma, and I can crash. It’s not the pussy relief I wanted, but it’ll have to do. Business comes first.

Back at my room I open the door and find the two women chatting like old friends. My lip quirks upward. Go figure.

Karma’s eyes are full of questions.

“We’re going to get you settled in for the night and we’ll meet up with everyone tomorrow. I need your info so I can send a prospect to get you some things.”

“I can do it. If you leave it to them, they’ll come back with slut gear,” Chase says.

I shrug. As long as it gets done, I could give a shit.

“Why don’t you write a few things down, and I’ll get it all to you in the morning,” Chase says.

“Thank you, Chase.”

“Anytime, doll.” Chase trails the back of knuckles against Karma’s face. My cock twitches and I lick my lips. There’s something sensual and intimate in that gesture. Karma’s long lashes flutter and she leans into the caress. I can’t tell if she gets down like that or if she’s desperate for comfort. Either way, it has images of the two of them entwined forming in my brain. Seeing her chocolate-colored skin pressed up against Chase’s peaches and cream would be mind-numbing. I clear my throat, and Chase lowers her hand.

“See you in the morning, Karma,” Chase says huskily.

“See you,” Karma whispers, looking shell shocked.
Damn, girl was feeling it.

“Later, Slayer,” Chase drawls.

I give a nod, and watch her go, admiring the apple shape of her ass in her black skinny jeans. I never looked twice at Chase before. She’s not the type you ogle. There’s an aura about her that demands respect, and she made it clear from the start she wasn’t a pair of open legs waiting for a man to satisfy.

“She was nice,” Karma says.

“You like her? I know she was into you. You swing that way, girl?” I ask, genuinely interested in her response.

“I don’t see how it’s your business,” she mumbles.

“Is that code for you? You didn’t answer my other question.” I move over to her and cup her chin. “If I ask you something, I expect an answer.”

“I think people are people. Who you are attracted to, doesn’t have to be limited to genders.”

“Is that your nice way of saying you like to eat pussy?” I arch my eyebrow.

Her eyes flash. “That’s personal and not pertaining to my safety or yours, so I think I’ll keep my opinions about pussy to myself.”

I throw my head back and laugh.
Fuck me, I like the girl
.

“Guess I better turn your name to wild child then.”

“Or you could call me by my actual name.” She rolls her eyes, and I smirk. The girl has no clue how rare this is. No one else would dare act like this with me.

****

Karma

I open my eyes and enjoy the warm body wrapped around me.
Who did I sleep with last night?
I’d been celibate since I left rehab. Sexual gratification fell by the wayside when I was trying to get my shit together and figure out who I was. I blink, lubricating my eyes, and focus on the body next to me. I see the dark brown hair and the night rushes back to me. Arsen. His arm is thrown across my waist, and my body is curved into his. His lean form is hard and taut. I want to run my hands down his chest and feel the defined abs visible in the sunlight. If I had to guess his age, I’d put him late thirties, early forties. He’s not much older than me, but he’s living a hard life. It’s got a way of aging people. I move experimentally, and his grip tightens.

“Arsen, I have to go pee,” I whisper.

He grunts and loosens his arms. I wiggle free and go to the bathroom. After relieving myself, I climb into the shower, hoping the spray will help me wake. The light coming through the window is minimal, so it can’t be very late. It’s disconcerting having nothing. I left my phone and my wallet, so I have no access to money or proof of who I am. My gut churns. That means they know where I live. I rest my face against the tile. For every step forward I’m taking two steps back these days.
Maybe I was born to be unhappy. Isn’t that what musicians need to fuel them? Never ending sorrow and pain?
After going through the motions in the shower, I step out and study myself in the mirror. I’ve survived worse than this. I got out of the tiny hell hole I’d been born to, hit the road running, and chased my dreams. I can get through this. If they wanted me dead, I would be. That’s a plus.