Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
That’s it—I'm going to kill them all!
Karma
That’s it—I'm going to kill them all!
A dull, pulsing pain throbs at the back of my skull that makes me groan before I even open my eyes. Slowly blinking them open, I see a now-familiar ceiling. The thoughts feel heavy, like I’m surfacing from deep underwater; my body feels slow to respond, disjointed.
Did Harrison really have to knock me out…
again? I barely got rid of the last headache the asshole gave me.
And I thought he was going to be the sweet one with that shaggy hair and big green eyes.
It’s always the sweet, caring-looking ones that turn out to be the assholes.
How wonderful. I’ll be sure to let him know he is on my shit list now, too.
Then memory slams into me.
Roman Shaw. That entitled prick of an Alpha.
His infuriatingly calm expression. The way he stood there like he had no idea who the fuck I was. Which I suppose he didn't, but still, fuck him.
I wanted to kill him. I tried too. I remember swinging, lunging with my small hidden blade. I wanted to leave my mark on him. Leave a reminder of who I was and who I am now. Make sure he would never forget who the fuck I am. His family's downfall.
Lucky for him, I only swiped him. I was ready to take another strike, this one to his face, when the sharp crack of something impacted my head. Then nothing.
Trying to sit up I feel the sudden cold bite of metal into my wrist. It’s unmistakable what it is, and it makes my blood turn molten.
Cuffs.
The bastards locked me up like a fucking feral animal.
My gaze drops, and there it is. One wrist shackled to the headboard with polished steel that glints in the low light.
I tug hard on instinct and hiss as the metal digs into my skin.
The bed frame rattles but doesn’t budge.
Rage floods me so fast I almost black out again.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I hiss, testing the restraint again. It doesn’t give. Of course it doesn’t. I doubt they trust me after what I did, but can they blame me?
Okay, maybe they can since they don’t actually know who I am or the connection I share with the Shaw’s. Ugh.
A dark laugh bubbles up out of me, but it’s humorless.
“Oh, he’s dead,” I mutter under my breath.
Not sure if I mean Harrison for knocking me out.
Theo for allowing this. Or Roman for just being a dick.
My wrist aches as I pull again, harder this time.
The metal scrapes against my skin, and I welcome the sting.
It keeps the fury sharp. Focused. How dare he. How dare they.
I flex my fingers, testing circulation. Still good.
My other hand is free for now. Interesting.
Overconfident alphaholes? Quickly double-checking myself, I realize they searched me and found my other little blade.
Running my free hand through my hair, I even removed my damn hidden bobby pin.
Fuckers. I bet they are getting a kick out of this.
They may have chained me to this bed, but the second I get free? They are going to learn exactly why trying to cage me was their first mistake.
Laying back down, I decide to play their little power game. For now. Closing my eyes, I replay the events from earlier.
I noticed him the second he walked in, like the air shifted and decided to revolve around him.
He stood like a man who owned whatever ground he was touching. Hands tucked casually into his pockets, shoulders relaxed, but there’s nothing easy about him. It’s controlled. Deliberate. Like even his stillness is a warning.
He was dressed in black, of course he is.
A fitted button-down, its sleeves rolled just enough to reveal ink crawling up both forearms. Dark lines and shadows wrapped around muscles like they belonged there.
They disappeared beneath the fabric, teasing more beneath the collar, where I caught a glimpse of ink climbing on his neck.
My fingers itched with the reckless curiosity to trace it or maybe wrap my fingers around it. Who knows.
His body was all clean lines and restrained power.
Broad shoulders. Lean waist. Long legs encased in tailored slacks that make him look polished…
But the tension in his stance said he could ruin someone without wrinkling his shirt.
The type of Alpha everyone thought he would become.
I wonder how much like his father he really was.
And then there was his face.
Sharp. Beautiful, just like he was in high school.
High cheekbones, a strong jaw, lips that didn’t quite smile.
His eyes were the worst part—steady, intense, like they were dissecting me piece by piece and filing the information away for later.
Dark and unreadable. Nothing like the soft gray I remembered.
Now they were angry storm clouds ready to release a torrent of rough weather.
He barely moved except to take a single step forward.
Eyes trained on me in what looked like confusion.
His hair fell perfectly, imperfectly across his forehead, softening the severity just enough to make it unfair.
He looked like he should be on the cover of a luxury magazine—but there was something darker underneath.
Standing, I slowly moved closer, realizing he had no idea who I was.
Why would he? I was invisible to him then too.
Even when I thought…no. That was all a lie.
I kept my steps calm and steady as I reached into the sweats I borrowed and gripped the small little blade I removed from the corset.
When I was face-to-face with Roman, I waited for even an ounce of sudden recognition, yet still none came.
It hurt more than I care to admit, but that didn’t stop the pain from turning to anger at what I had to live through while he was out here living a great life, no doubt.
Knowing I shouldn’t let my feelings give me away, I couldn’t stop it. I was like a pressure cooker ready to explode. With hurt and rage as the only emotions fueling me, my grip on the blade tightened. Then, without thinking, I attacked.
I’m about to replay the best part. The surprise on Roman’s face when I swung my fist towards his face—the doorknob turns, pulling my attention away.
My eyes flash open, narrowing on the beast of a man that waltzes in like he isn’t on my bad side at all.
He must see it in my expression because he raises his hands in defense.
“Little Reaper, I wasn’t the one who knocked you out. All I did was hold you back so you couldn’t kill my brother.” Theo chuckles before adding, “Honestly, I thought it was pretty entertaining. And the look on Rome’s face was priceless.”
I can’t help myself; I snort because he’s not wrong and I was just thinking of the same look.
"Okay, and what about this shit?” I ask, holding up my chained hand, the cuffs jiggling out, making clear what I’m talking about.
The asshole shrugs. “I don’t think Harrison believed you were the Karma Killer until you attacked Rome. And well, Rome still doesn’t believe it, but I think he sees you as a threat.”
I grin. “And you? What do you think?”
Theo returns my grin. “Baby, I knew you were dangerous the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Rolling my eyes at his words, I tug on the cuffs.
“So, now that you know who I am and that I killed Miguel, what is the plan? Keep me locked up like some animal?” Even just the thought of being locked up has my skin crawling.
I know I don’t have long before another problem develops, one worse than just being a serial killer.
So, I need to make quick work coming up with an escape plan.
“You’re not an animal!” Theo growls. “But you can’t be trusted not to be detained somehow.
Unless you prefer to be tied to my bed and we can pick up where we left off.
” He suggests, his blue eyes lighting up with the idea.
As tempting as it is, I know that would only make things worse for me.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Theo’s pants bulge with what I have no doubt is a raging hard-on.
His own eyes tracing over my body as if I were completely bare to him, not wearing an oversized tee and sweats.
My own body begins to heat up, and I know it’s time to change the topic.
“Why don’t you tell me why you're really here?” I snap, masking my own desire and praying to whoever wants to listen that my biology doesn’t betray me right now.
I know it’s too late when Theo takes a deep inhale, his body tensing as his brows tilt in confusion.
Shit. “Well, you didn’t bring me food or drink, so why are you here, Theo?
" I press. His eyes snap to mine, this time in thought, like he is trying to figure out a puzzle. I cock my eyebrow in irritation.
“Are you hungry? I can have Harris make some food. Or I can bring you water. Do you need a blanket?” Fuck not this.
“Theo, why did you come see me?” I ask again. I’m starting to think he is avoiding my question on purpose.
Theo lets out a deep sigh before leaning back against the wall. “How do you know Roman?” I tense up. I knew the questions would come, but I wasn’t ready for them. “It’s obvious you know him, but he doesn’t know you. Was he one of your targets?” I snort.
“Of course he doesn’t know me.” What I don’t add anymore is he doesn’t know me anymore.
“But you know him,” he clarifies and I nod. I suppose I can give a few things away. It’s not like I plan to give my whole shitty life story.
“Did he know you at some point?” Theo studies my face closely, and I know I can’t lie. So, grinding my teeth, I nod.
“And you’re not going to tell us anymore?” I shake my head in answer.
“Come on, Karma, you need to give me something.” He pleads and I almost laugh. Theo begging is kind of hot. Now I wonder if I could get him on his knees to beg for me.
NO, BAD KARMA!!!
NOT THE TIME!
“Look, we just want answers. Miguel’s father is a dangerous man, and Roman’s father is the one who made us babysit the prick.
You killing him has caused a lot of trouble for us.
I have no doubt you had your reasons for all the men you killed, but they are calling for the head of your killer.
” My eyes narrow at him as he says this.
“No, we don’t plan on turning you in. Even being a woman, they would kill you or worse.
I almost snort at that. What can be worse than what they have already done to me?
But I contain it. Barely. "Please, Little Reaper, we just need answers.”
I’m not sure what overcomes me. Maybe it’s some type of Omega weakness that I’ve kept buried under suppressants for years. Maybe it’s because I have a soft spot for my big angry scarred Alpha.
Not mine!
Whatever it is, it has me opening my mouth and speaking words I never thought I would say.
“Everything I do, I do for Rosie.”
Then I turn away from Theo to face a blank wall.
He stands there for a minute or two, not speaking, not moving.
I expect him to ask a follow-up question like, "Who's Rosie?” but he doesn’t.
After a minute I hear the scuffle of footsteps, then the soft click of the door shutting and locking.
I allow a single tear to fall. Just one for Rosie.