Page 33 of XO Karma

If he wants to mess with me, threaten me, scare me shitless, that’s one thing.

But no one—and I mean no one—will be hurting my friends.

Not today.

Not ever again.

11

ASTER

Through the reflection in my bathroom mirror, I take in the purple bruise forming across my ribs. Jim Forde got a few punches in last night before I pinned him against the wall, and although I usually spend the day after a kill analyzing it repeatedly for anything I might have missed or forgotten in cleaning my tracks, today all I’ve thought about is her. So much so that I coordinated a little run-in, just to see how she’s holding up from our interaction.

The answer? Apparently not well.

Last night, as I dragged the blade between her breasts, I’d have sworn she was enjoying it. But today? She looked terrified. Furious. And still strikingly beautiful.

Not to mention what seeing her in my shirt did to me.

In fact, I may have spent a bit too much time thinking about that in the shower…

Back in my room, I pull on boxers and a pair of shorts. I’ve been awake for twenty-three hours, and the overwhelming urge to sleep is beckoning me to the bed. I truly cannot remember the last time I got a good night’s sleep. Yesterday I tried desperately, but all I could think about was the look in Lily’s eyes when I held the knife to her throat. The defiance. The strength. Fuck, why was it so damn hot? I basically stayed awake till the sun rose, trying not to touch myself. I failed.

The bedroom door bangs open, pulling my attention to the sight of a blonde-and-pink-haired, beautifully furious woman rushing in. I really need a security system. Then again, I don’t mind this particular intrusion.

“What are you—” She barrels towards me, and I stumble, hardly having time to brace myself as she launches in the air and tackles me to the ground. My back slams against the wood floor with a thud, knocking the air from my lungs as her full weight presses on top of me. She hooks a leg under mine, then flips us in my distraction.

“Oww,” I groan as she throws her arm around my neck, leg digging into my bruised rib.

The familiar sound of a knife unsheathing has my breath catching. Cool metal is pressed against my jugular.

“Leave. My. Friends. Alone,” she grits out.

My brows pull together. Is that what this is about?

In one fell swoop, we flip, my body on top of hers, knife thrown to the side, clanking against the floor. Gripping her wrists, I flatten her arms to the ground. My narrowed eyes meet hers, only dropping slightly to admire her chest rising and falling, still in my shirt. Thank fuck I did a bout of stress relief in the shower because now is not the time to pop a semi. “What are you talking about?”

“Do whatever you want to me,” she seethes, angry eyes boring into mine. “But don’t touch my friends.” My head tilts to the side, and I roll off of her, standing up. She hurries after her dagger, then shuffles quickly to her feet, the tip pointed at me.

“You risked your life to come here and tell me to… back off?” I attempt and fail to hide my amusement.

“Risked my life?” Lily huffs a laugh. “You know…” She paces the room. “For the first ten minutes I spent getting out of the stupid handcuff knot you left me in last night, I was terrified. I kept waiting for you to return and finish me off.” She pauses, turning to me with a snarky smile. “Then I realized if you wanted me dead, I would be. So why am I not dead, Aster Blake? Why am I not chopped into tiny little pieces and presented like an O for your next photography session?”

“An O?” My brows raise in amusement. “And what makes you think I’m not going to kill you eventually?” Her confidence falters for a split second, and I can’t fight the grin spreading across my face. “Did you ever consider that I like to play with my food?”

Her face scrunches. “So you’re a cannibal?”

“Huh?” Nausea rises in my throat at the insinuation. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I might be a sicko, but I draw the line at cannibalism. She blinks at me, and I add, “I am not a cannibal.”

“Great, well, that’s a relief.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I need you to promise you’ll leave my friends alone,” she says, tone firm. “Haven’t you taken enough from me?”

“Mmm,” I say, stepping closer, and she tightens the grip on her dagger. “That’s not the only reason.”

“What…” She readjusts her hold on the handle. “What else would it be?”