Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
“Who are you, Karma?”
Harrison
I’ve been pacing the floor of my office like a trapped rat in a cage.
Theo went to check on Karma a little bit ago when we heard her wake up, and it’s been like twenty minutes.
I knew the moment I had to knock her out again that I fucked up.
The first time I had no idea who she was, but now that I know she is an infamous serial killer, well, that changes a few things.
Like maybe I should add some extra locks to my bedroom door.
Who knows what kind of skills she has. I mean, she kills Alphas twice her size.
She got not one but three small blades past us.
Yeah, I have no doubt she wants to kill me now. And if she doesn’t want to kill me, then for sure she plans to maim me.
We barely had time to blink before she was attacking Rome.
The woman should not be underestimated. She is dangerous, and the more I look into the Karma Killer, the more I realize just how much so.
I’ve found at least thirty cases that have her calling card.
But there is no telling if there were more no one knows about.
The pictures are a bit overwhelming to flip through.
The skin isn’t slashed apart in rage. It’s sculpted and deliberate.
Dare I say intimate? Like she leaned in close enough to feel the victim’s last breath against her cheek while she worked.
The cuts are precise. Clean entry, controlled depth. No hesitation marks. She doesn’t test the blade; it’s a part of her. Long, elegant lines curve across flesh in deliberate arcs, intersecting in sharp angles that almost look… beautiful. If you forget what they’re carved into.
Every victim carries the same signature: her promise to them etched into their skin like a brand.
A message meant to be found, meant to be recognized.
I’m not one hundred percent sure what that message is, but I have a feeling about to find out what she is trying to say.
Especially since I knew her latest victim and he was kind of a dick.
Plus, the words ‘Karma is a bitch' have kind of a clear meaning.
You did something that deserved this in return.
I’m still shifting through files while my computer runs a facial recognition on Karma when Theo finally returns.
Immediately I’m on my feet, ready with a list of questions I need answers to when he raises his hand for me to wait.
“Let’s get Rome on the line. He is already in a shit mood from being left out of information earlier. This will do us no good.”
Theo has a good point. After everything that’s happened this past week, Roman is even more stressed out.
Luckily, he was able to get ahold of X and get him to agree to meet with him again.
Fingers crossed that goes better than last time because if X found out we were currently holding one of his girls, I’m sure we would have even more of a threat to worry about.
“Let’s hope he isn’t in his meeting yet,” I say before pulling out my phone and dialing Rome up. Two rings, and his voice fills the line. “Putting you on speaker now.”
“Make this quick. What did you find out?” Glancing up at Theo, I let out a sigh and decide to give him my bad news first.
“Well, it’s not looking good on my end. I’ve hacked multiple police stations and have found roughly thirty case files under the Karma Killer name.
All were killed in different ways and left in different places, but all with the same carved-up skin on display.
All the victims are men. Most are Alphas, but a few Betas are sprinkled in.
” I glance back up at Theo when I say the next part.
"Look, I know she claims to be the Karma Killer, but do we really think she could take down these men on her own?” The words don’t taste right on my tongue.
I know deep down what she says is true somehow, but I haven’t been able to find a single thing on Karma.
No hits anywhere. Like she never existed in the first place.
Which, in hindsight, is what you want as a serial killer, but still.
Theo gives me a snort while shaking his head. Clearly calling me an idiot.
“I have my doubts too, but who admits to being a serial killer like it’s just another conversation?
It doesn’t make sense. Theo, you said she worked at X’s club under the name Grim.
While I’m here, I’m going to try and get some more information.
I know she was the one found in the alley, but what if she was only helping whoever really did this?
" He lets out a deep sigh, sounding tired. “Wesley has called twice today asking to know where we are at in finding who killed Miguel. I’m not willing to just hand over this woman just because she says she is the one who did it.” Theo lets out a low growl at that.
“We all know how Wesley and Dominic feel about women.” I grind my own teeth at that.
Yes, we know exactly how they feel about women, which is one of the reasons we are trying to take them down.
“Well, I’m still running facial recognition, but no hits yet. But Theo just came down from speaking with our little guest.” Turning to Theo again, I cock a brow. “What did you find out, brother?”
He grins at me, but before he can open his mouth and tell us, Rome is interrupted. “Sir, X is ready for you.”
“Alright, guys. I need to get to this meeting, but I want a full report when I get back. Figure out who she really is and how the hell she knows me.” Click, and then he is gone.
Theo and I stare at each other for a few minutes before I cock a brow for him to tell me what he found out.
"Well, brother, she is pissed. So, I wouldn’t go up there without bringing some type of a gift.
” I nod in understanding. I have a stash of cookies in my desk that I’m sure could persuade her not to want to stab me. Hopefully.
“I’m sure I can figure out something. I’ll make some dinner while my computers do their thing.
What do you think she likes?” I’m already moving towards the kitchen, going over different ingredients and recipes I could make.
Theo follows behind. As an afterthought, I ask, “Did you ask her why she attacked Rome and how she knows him?”
“I did" is his only answer before he moves to the cupboards and pours himself a few ounces of Jack, throwing it back like water.
“And what did she say?” I prep, going about grabbing everything I need for spaghetti and meatballs with garlic toast. You can’t go wrong with pasta.
“Wouldn’t tell me much. She doesn’t trust us.
I wonder why." He gives me a side-eye like this is all my fault, but it’s not.
Is she mad I’ve knocked her out twice? Yeah, I get that, but really, she is to blame for her own predicament.
She was the one going around killing people, not me.
“But she did give me something; I just don’t know what it has to do with Roman.
” He shrugs, and I swear getting information from Theo is like pulling teeth.
Turning, I give him an annoyed look over my shoulder as I boil water and start the sauce. "Theo," I snap. “What did she tell you?”
“Everything I do, I do for Rosie.”
Turning, I blink at him. “Who’s Rosie?” He just shrugs.
“She stopped talking after that. So I figured if someone made her food and maybe apologized to her, she might be in a more talkative mood.” Snorting at him, I shake my head.
“Somehow I have a feeling she isn’t going to give us information unless she wants to."
The plate is still steaming when I start up the stairs.
Spaghetti and meatballs with a side of thick slices of garlic bread dripping butter through the paper towel I wrapped around them.
I feel so nervous. Like I’m walking into a bedroom to feed my girlfriend instead of a woman who has killed multiple men and may or may not be plotting my death.
Karma. Even thinking her name tightens something in my chest. But why?
I pause outside the door trying to calm my racing heart. The house is quiet, too quiet, and for a second I imagine what would happen if the room were empty when I opened it. If she’d somehow slipped the cuffs. If she’d vanished into the night like smoke through my fingers.
Taking a deep breath I unlock the door and step inside.
The sight has me breathing easier. She’s on the bed, facing away from me.
Red hair spilled across the pillow. One arm tucked under her head.
The other rested loose against the mattress.
Like she’s sleeping. I debate for a second about just turning around, not wanting to wake her, but I see the tense set of her body.
I close the door behind me and clear my throat. “I brought you food,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Spaghetti and meatballs. And some bread.”
She doesn’t turn around. That’s fair.
Carefully, I move closer and set the plate on the nightstand. The ceramic clinks softly against the wood. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce is filling the room, warm and comforting, I hope.
“I’m sorry,” I add after a second. “For knocking you out.”
Still nothing. Not even a narrowed eye-glare in my direction. I drag a hand down my face and add… “Again.”
That gets a reaction. A small huff of breath. Not quite a laugh but not not one, which is progress.
I shift my weight suddenly, feeling even more nervous than before. “And before you start planning your revenge or something, I’d prefer if you didn’t kill me when I uncuff you.”
Slowly, she rolls onto her back, then turns her head toward me. Her eyes are bright. Too bright. Amused. “I make no promises,” she says lightly. There’s a curve to her mouth that shouldn’t make my pulse kick up, but it does.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Figured.”
I study her for a moment. The way she looks perfectly at ease despite the fact that she’s confined to this bed by cuffs. No panic. No visible fear. Just patiently waiting, but for what?
“Promise not to attack one of us again. You know we don’t like treating you like this.
” I shove my hands into my pockets and pull out the small handcuff key.
Ever so slowly I reach forward and gently unlock the cuff attached to her wrist before stepping back again.
When she doesn’t lunge to attack, I breathe a sigh of relief.
The third time would not have been the charm here.
So, feeling a bit like I might survive this encounter, I ask another question. “Why can’t I find you?”
Her eyes snap from the plate she is now holding to mine.
“I’ve searched everything,” I continue. “Databases. Records. Social media. Financial trails. It’s like you’ve never existed.
” My jaw tightens. I hate not having answers.
“No birth certificate. No school records. Nothing. You just… appear.” She watches me like I’m something mildly interesting.
I take a step closer. “Who are you, Karma?”
I was counting on the facial recognition program more than anything since I figured her real name isn’t Karma, but she hasn’t given me much to work with.
Other than what Theo told me she said. Once I get back downstairs, I’ll start looking into that.
We stare at each other for a long moment, her eyes a brighter green than my own, and for a second—just one—I think she might actually answer.
Instead, she reaches for the fork and twirls the noodles. “Thank you for the food,” she says politely and then takes a bite. Chewing, she hums a little. And I take that as she likes the food, but she ignores me completely.
A muscle jumps in my jaw as I just watch her, like some freaking creep.
She doesn’t look up and doesn’t acknowledge me any further.
But she doesn’t tell me to go to hell either.
That feels like a win, even though it shouldn’t.
I stand there a few more seconds, memorizing the curve of her neck, the way her fingers hold the fork, and the faint smear of red sauce near the corner of her mouth.
And that’s how I know I crossed the line because she pauses mid-bite and cocks an eyebrow at me in question.
“Eat,” I murmur, and she takes another bite.
I nod once to myself, even though she isn’t watching anymore, and turn toward the door.
Stepping out into the hallway and pulling it closed behind me, I run into Theo.
He’s grinning down at me like some weirdo, and I’m starting to think I should be worried about how much the bastard has been smiling since meeting this woman.
That’s an issue for another day. Right now I have work to do, like figuring out who this Rosie is.