Page 85 of XO Karma

“Of course.” He places another kiss on my cheek, which I promptly wipe off as he walks away, loafers squeaking as he goes, and takes the call.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asks, tone agitated. “He was where?”

My phone buzzes.

Amara

Get more cups too

Me

Shall I also bring my firstborn?

Amara

That would be great thanks xx

The burner phone in my bag vibrates once more. It’s Aster. Again. Pulling it out, I glance at the tiny screen.

(1) Missed Call

Grim

Plz, karma baby

Suppressing the flutter in my stomach at the nickname, I toss the phone back in my bag. I don’t want to deal with this bullshit right now. I’m still angry at him for last night. For insinuating I can’t do things on my own. For… for forcing me to admit things I’m not ready to admit. Not now. Not ever.

Tonight, I’m just going to have normal fun with my normal friends and pretend I’m not moonlighting as a vigilante with a sexy serial killer as my sidekick.

“Finally!” Amara says, greeting me at the door with a satin witch costume adorning her curves and spiderwebs painted on her face.

“You look hot!” I grab her hand and make her do a little spin.

“I look hot?” she scoffs, taking in my hot pink vest and matching high-waisted denim skirt. A cowboy hat is secured on my head, my favorite boots adorning my feet. “Look at you!”

“Just a little something I threw together.” I fight a grin. It only took me an hour to figure out how to style my hair. I ended on the same loose curls I always do.

“Mm-hmm.” She takes the ice and cups from my hands as we walk further into the house, which is already buzzing with chatter. There are at least fifty people here all dressed in costumes, the music is loud, and alcohol is clearly flowing freely.

“Sorry I’m late,” I shout towards her ear. I was busy trying to catch a potential serial killer.

“No worries.” She waves me off with a smile.

“Babe,” Val calls from a few feet away, and Amara gives me an apologetic smile, rushing off.

I make my way through the party, only a few people seeming familiar. Passing the kitchen, Amara shouts, “Hey, sexy Barbie!” She points behind me. “Your surprise is over there.”

My gaze follows her finger, and every thought leaves my brain, along with my dreams of a normal night out. Manspread on a chair in the corner, looking terrifying and delicious, is the current star of my wet dreams. Black jeans adorn his long, muscular legs. He wears a black hoodie with the hood up, his skull mask hiding the lower half of his face, and a large scythe rests against the wall behind him.

The last time I saw him in that mask was when he stabbed a knife into a man’s neck. So why the hell am I so turned on?

Amara and I need to have a discussion regarding boundaries. Inviting my stalker and an elusive serial killer to set me up with is crossing about a million of them. It may also be necessary to discuss with a shrink why a serial murderer in his Reaper uniform has ignited a bonfire between my thighs.

But the Amara thing totally seems more urgent…

Aster’s gaze connects with mine, and his head cocks to the side. His grin radiates through the mask, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Heat floods my veins, and I remind myself that I’m furious with him. He can’t keep acting like I can’t handle myself. Like I need protection. Like I enjoy the bad things I do.

But don’t you?