Chapter 15 – Aster #2
I twist my lips. “Sorry, never heard of you.”
I have heard of him. His family is worth more than God, but I’d argue they do the Devil’s work.
“Well, let me give you a quick reminder.” He waves a hand. “This is my estate.” These pretentious assholes are all so predictable. I couldn’t give two shits about this guy’s property. I’m more concerned with how he’s acquired it.
“Apologies, I just came as a plus one. All I was told was to put on a tux.” My eyes turn to Lily. “Isn’t that right, honey?”
Her brows draw together, and she turns back to Judious.
“Don’t mind him, Jude,” she says, her smile tight.
“He gets along better with the dead than the living.” I squeeze her side and she flinches, yet doesn’t blow my bogus story.
In fact, she’s actually allowing this guy to think we’re possibly more than… mutual stalkers?
“Then maybe you should go gander at the art,” Jude says with an unamused smile. “They would revel in your company.”
“I’ve just come from there.” I run a hand along Lily’s exposed spine, and goosebumps scatter in my wake. “Had to see what this one was doing.” My eyes find Lily’s, a scowl on her face and a stupid grin on mine. The floral scent of her shampoo surrounds me and makes it hard to concentrate.
“Jude,” a familiar voice says, pulling us back to the present. Isla walks up, and he slips an arm around her waist.
“Ah, the woman of the hour,” he says with a smile. “How’s it going?”
“Most”—her eyes briefly meet mine—“of the attendees are very interested and excited for the bidding to start.”
He grins. “Wonderful.”
My stomach sinks. “Woman of the hour?” I ask.
“You really know nothing, do you?” Jude mocks. “This is my wife, Isla.” I mask my surprise, glancing between the two. Isla appears to be about twenty years older than this man child, but I suppose money talks. “She’s the artist of the pieces spread throughout the home.”
“Oh.” I stifle a nervous laugh, cheeks flushing hot. Of course I ridiculed the art directly to the artist. “We’ve met.”
Jude’s eyes bounce between us, and he opens his mouth. “Can we speak for a moment?” Isla asks, cutting him off.
“Enjoy the party,” Jude says warmly to Lily, then glares my way, and they excuse themselves.
Before Lily can utter a word, I drag her to the dance floor.
I spin her into position, and a breath escapes her as she slams against my chest. “What are you doing?” she huffs in a hushed tone, body tense.
“Dancing.” My hand rests on her waist, the other holding hers.
She tugs away, but I tighten my grip. “Is there a reason you won’t let go?”
“You’re a flight risk.”
A pretty smirk breaks through. “It’s called self-preservation.”
“Oh, trust me.” Bringing our connected hands to my collar, I tug it down slightly. “I’m well aware of your methods.”
She grins, gently dragging a finger along the scar in a way that makes me shudder. “Just a little token of my love.”
“Speaking of tokens of love, I rather enjoyed your choice of wardrobe a few weeks ago,” I tell her, and she rolls her eyes. “My shirt looked good on you.”
“It was an emergency. A drink spilled on me.”
I pout, unable to hide my amusement. “Pity.”
Her eyes narrow. “I knew you had something to do with it.”
My lip quirks. “You wore white again.”
“So, what? You bribed the waitress to topple a mimosa on me?”
“Best hundred bucks I’ve ever spent.”
Her eyes squeeze shut, and when she opens them, her voice is shaky. Body rigid. “So you were watching me—us—the entire time?” I shrug, and her hands tremble slightly. “Like I said before, do what you have to do to me, but leave Amara and her family alone.”
My brows pull together. “What?”
“Zuri’s just a kid,” she pleads, voice a whisper. “Please, just don’t hurt them.”
I blow out a heavy sigh. “I’m not going to hurt your friends, Lily.”
She clenches her jaw. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?” I ask, fingers flexing against her waist, the satin of her dress begging to be rumpled.
Her mouth drops open, cute little nose scrunched. “I watched you kill a man. In cold blood.”
“We’ve been over that. He deserved it.” More than.
“Says you.”
“Says anyone with a single brain cell or a heart.”
“So you’re saying I don’t have either of those?!”
Frustration settles in my core. “I’m saying there are things you don’t understand.”
Her gaze holds mine, a crease forming on her forehead. “Is that why we’re here? So you can scout for your next kill?”
“No.” My expression matches hers. “A friend invited me.”
She raises a brow. “The Grim Reaper has friends?”
“Grim?” I huff a laugh. “Really?”
Her eyes drop to my chest, then return to mine. “Are the morbid tattoos just for show?”
“I don’t reap souls, I destroy them.”
“And I don’t give two shits about a technicality.”
My grip on her waist tightens, and her breath hitches as I tug her closer. “Does that mouth do anything but smart off?”
Her grin is wicked. “I bite.”
Heat flushes through my veins, settling deep in my core. That silk dress looks easy to rip off, and the image of her dropped to her knees in front of—
“Earth to psycho,” she coos, pulling me out of my wet dream.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop calling me those names.”
Her jaw ticks, eyes hardening. “Would you prefer I call you Kodak Killer?”
“What?” My head rears back. “Why the fuck would you call me that?”
“Shall I list the reasons?” She holds up a finger. “First of all, you murdered someone the—”
“Shh, shh, shh!” I dart my eyes around. “Lower your voice.”
“Why? Is it a secret?” A secret? The hell is she on about? My eyes snag on the service door on the far side of the room where the waiters emerged. I head towards it, tugging her behind me. “Where are you taking me?”
An older man eyes us, gaze dropping to my hold on her, so I slow my pace to avoid drawing too much attention and pull her beside me, my lips finding her ear.
“You want answers? Not another word.” A moment later we’re through the door, rushing along a dimly lit corridor.
She yanks her arm away, and we halt in place.
Glancing both ways down the long hallway, I ensure we’re alone.
“Why do you think I’m the Kodak Killer?”
She blinks, brows pulled tight. She blinks again. On the third blink, I’m veering towards annoyance. “I mean, aren’t you?”
“No?!” I’ve been accused of a lot of things in my life, but being an infamous serial killer isn’t one of them. In fact, I’ve worked extremely hard to ensure my name is clear of such claims. I do suppose the darkroom is a bit suspicious given the Kodak Killer’s M.O., but I digress.
“And why should I believe you?” She folds her arms over her chest. “You kill—”
“Let’s back up.” I hold out a hand. “Is that why you started stalking me?” She bites her cheek. “Lily, why did you start stalking me?”
She narrows her eyes, slowly reaching out and pressing my hand downward. “I had a hunch.”
“That’s bull. You partake in plenty of suspicious activities yourself. Or is igniting bags of crap on someone’s doorstep a typical Tuesday night?”
“I knew someone was watching me!” She presses her hands against my chest, shoving me away, and I stumble.
“Like I said before you carved me up, you’re not the only one who does recon.”
“Well, that’s none of your business.”
“I just find it a bit hypocritical you’re judging me when you clearly have your fair share of illegal extracurriculars.”
She laughs, but it lacks humor. “The only thing I’m doing is what karma already should have.”
Karma… my fingers wander to my neck and trace the brand, and the realization strikes me like a bolt of lightning.
Maybe I am the biggest idiot in the world because how did I not realize this earlier?
Anxiety thrums through my veins. She’s Karma.
The Karma. The anonymous website that gives citizens the chance to pay for revenge.
“Did someone give you a tip about me?” She purses her lips, unwilling to reply.
I rush forward, and she stumbles away until her back slams against the wall, a breath expelling from her lungs. “Lily. Tell me the truth.”
She scowls in defiance as I tower over her. “Why should I tell you anything?”
“Because.” I cage her in, placing a hand on each side of her. “If someone had you target me, we both have a serious fucking problem.”
Her brows draw together. “Why?”
I’ve made my fair share of enemies. But most of them are buried in my past or in the ground, and that’s exactly where they need to stay.