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She chuckles. At least I haven’t pissed her off. I need to remember she holds my fate in her hands.
“Good. Get out,” Karma orders.
“But you said I was going to die out there!” I argue, panic in my voice.
I hold on to the door handle, but the door opens on its own. Well, actually, it opens with Karma’s power.
I’m abruptly tossed to the curb, and I fall to the ground, my knees scraping on the concrete sidewalk.
I look up to see a man towering over me. He wears a dark hoodie, and shadows obscure his face.
I scramble to my feet to dart back into the limo for safety, but Karma and her ride have disappeared.
The hooded man steps closer, looming like Death himself. “There you are,” he says with menace, the blade in his hand glinting in the streetlights.
Great. I am going to die after all.
“Payback’s a bitch,” the man snarls.
Figuring I might as well go out as the smart-ass I am, I sass, “No, but apparently Karma actuallyis.”
A laugh barks out behind my attacker.
What the hell? Is there more than one hitman?
My hooded attacker spins toward the direction of the laughter.
Before he turns all the way around, he crumples at my feet.
I gasp. “What the—”
With my hooded would-be killer out of the way, I now see a chuckling man manically grinning at me. “Let’s go,” Chuckles snaps and walks toward my apartment building, expecting me to follow like an obedient puppy.
But I don’t follow.
What’s going on? Why would I obey this stranger?
“Let’s go!” Chuckles growls.
Instead of complying, I race down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.
Glancing over my shoulder, I note Chuckles isn’t chasing me. Before I can turn forward to see where I’m going, I collide with a solid object—correction… a very firm chest.
The chest’s owner says, “But we insist, beautiful. Karma says you areours.”
“Yours?” I gulp.
His arms wrap around my waist, bracing me against him.
My hands press against his shoulders of steel, but I can’t push him away, so I give him a once-over.
Sure, he’s hot as sin—strong jaw, built like a boxer, dark, glossy hair, and intense, sky blue eyes set against a tan complexion. This guy is panty-combusting sexy, but I don’t like his tone.
Locked in an odd staring contest in the arms of a stranger, I refuse to lose and blink first.
An ineffable look takes over his face, and Hot-as-sin breaks first by releasing me, then he grips my upper arm firmly and drags me back to his friend, Chuckles.
I struggle to get away, but I don’t have a chance of breaking his hold. He is a solid foot taller than my five-three height. By the way his tight black tee clings to his chest and biceps, I know he doesn’t skip out on gym days.
