Dead Ink(Karma Series Book 4)(21)

Normally he'd enjoy the show, or at least have a small amount of  patience for the interruptions. Today he was too consumed with watching  the show Faith was putting on. She was making unusually loud noises as  she inched closer and closer to his office. She paused, half in and half  out of the door. He raised his eyebrows in a silent and? It wasn't like  she'd never gone in his office before.

He heard some loud clanking, as if she were trying to alert him to her  shuffling through the things inside his office, as if he hadn't just  seen her go in. Then he heard her raised voice. "Wow, look at all this  unorganized paperwork. I wonder why no one has taken care of it?"

He'd known she'd been distracted during lunch today. Now he knew why.  She'd been eyeing up his chaotic piles of bills and invoices in between  bites.

His normal accountant, a human who had accidentally rented space in the  building the agency used, had left recently due to the uprisings and  violence. He'd mysteriously won a trip for him and his family. The only  real mystery was why Fate had taken such a liking to a human that he'd  made the arrangements.

"I wonder if it's because I don't have an accountant anymore?" he asked,  loud enough that she wouldn't doubt he was speaking to her.

He heard more shuffling around before she walked out, her arms filled to  the brim with books and papers. Again, being very obvious about her  actions, her gathered booty was clearly displayed as she walked  unnecessarily close to him while making an arc toward the front counter.  As she passed by him, he did a subtle shrug.                       
       
           



       

She seemed very pleased with herself as she plunked down the armful of  stuff on the counter. She looked so satisfied in fact that he had to  hold back the laughter. She was welcome to them, but she wouldn't look  so happy shortly.

It only took about fifteen minutes for her to start shaking her head  grumbling under her breath. Lucky for him, he could hear the words she  was saying, idiot and moron being among the nicer ones. A few minutes  after that, she started looking at him, still shaking her head. He  raised his eyebrows as if he didn't understand what baffled her.

When she started making sounds like she was in psychical pain, Lars had  to stop tattooing because he couldn't hold back the laughter.

"Get up. We're done for the day," Lars told his client, who blatantly  flashed her bare chest at him again. He'd already seen it plenty. He  wasn't quite sure what she thought this last peep was going to do.

"Really? We're done?" Her voice was thick with disappointment. She held  her shirt to her front as she rose, covering the barest amount she could  without being completely indecent. She stared up at him with large,  soft brown eyes and a full pout. This was his cue when he'd normally  bring her in his office, or upstairs if he was in the mood for a bed,  and bang her.

His dick didn't even twitch.

"Isn't that what I just said?" He grabbed her purse for her and shoved  it into her hand, trying to encourage a bit more expedience on her  departure.

"But don't you need to put something on my tattoo? Wrap it or something?" she asked.

"You people are ridiculous. ‘I want ointment. I want my tattoo  wrapped,'" he said in a whiny voice. "Nobody gets babied here. Now get  out."

His client, in full simpering mode, slowly put her shirt on and made her way to the door as he walked over to Faith.

His full attention now on Faith, he watched as she flipped through his  ledgers at an alarming rate, grumbling to herself as she went.

"Everything okay?" he asked, knowing the mess she was staring at.

She turned to him and opened her mouth but said nothing; she just kept shaking her head.

"You don't look so good. Maybe you should lie down?" he asked with mock concern.

She started stabbing the open book with her finger. "How?"

"How what?" God, she was so cute, all riled up like this.

"How are you keeping your lights on?"

She had her hands on her hips, which were wrapped up nice and snug in  dark denim. They were rounded and dipped in just the right amount  towards her waist. He'd always liked short skirts and heels but it  didn't seem to matter what she wore. It was like she'd been built to his  exact specifications.

"Well?" she asked, waiting for a reply.

"I don't know? Maybe I paid the bill when I was drunk one night?" He  shrugged, trying to look nonchalant when all he was thinking about was  wrapping his hands around her small waist, lifting her onto the counter  and stepping in between her legs. Why did she always have to look so  damn adorable all the time?

"With what? The ink you buy is ridiculously expensive. You pay top  dollar for everything in here. And don't say you don't, because I  checked the prices on my phone. Your customers' checks are bouncing left  and right. And that's if they get deposited! You've got a pile of  checks shoved in here that are too old to even cash anymore!"

He watched her run a hand through that thick blonde hair of hers. He  wondered what it would look like hanging down her bare back, or trailing  over her full breasts. His hand itched to curl his fingers into it,  take a large hank of it and yank her head back, lifting her face to his.  He'd like to find out if she'd squirm against him or cling and let all  her inhibitions fall away.

The alarming part was he found himself thinking back to how she looked  when she slept. How he enjoyed seeing her sleep in his bed, like she was  his and meant to be there. He'd never even let a woman stay over long  enough for anything more than a catnap in between sessions before.

"Are you listening to me?" Her voice pitched higher. Not as high as it  would of if he was having his way with her but enough to get his  attention back to the fact she was speaking. "Lars?" It was an  admonishment.

"Is there a Faith here?"

Lars whipped around toward the door, alarmed that he'd been so engrossed  in her that he hadn't realized someone had walked in. Then it  registered that the guy had called her by name. How the hell did he know  her name?

Lars didn't take his eyes off him, and quickly positioned himself in front of Faith.                       
       
           



       

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked, realizing the kid wasn't much past  twenty and scrawny to boot. The stench of an unkempt human clung to him.

The kid threw his hands up, palms outward, and was trembling slightly,  which revealed forearms with track marks. "Hey, man, I'm not looking for  trouble."

"Who sent you here?" Lars asked.

"Some guy a few blocks away from here threw me a hundred bucks to deliver her something."

"What was his name? What did he look like?" His gut twisted, already knowing the answer.

"I don't know, ‘bout forty and rich looking? I didn't much care," he  said, his hand going to scratch his arm as if bugs were crawling on him.

"What is it?"

"I have a package for her." The kid moved his hand toward his back  pocket slowly, waiting until Lars nodded to proceed before he pulled out  a small box.

Lars reached forward and snatched the small box from his fingers.

"Give it to me." Faith had come around to his side and pulled the  package from his fingers before he realized what she'd intended.

The kid took off running the minute Lars turned toward Faith. He watched  as she shot into his office, as he was torn between who to follow. He  already knew who had sent the delivery and he was sure the kid wasn't  involved. First off, the kid was human. And secondly, he was way too  rattled. This wasn't a normal gig for him. He was just a junky looking  for a quick buck. Even if he hadn't seen the evidence, he would've known  from the sickly smell of him.

Lars dug out his phone as he stepped outside the shop and tried to get  an idea on where the kid had taken off to. He dialed Bic, who he knew  was in the area this afternoon, and relayed the information. Then  hurried back in to find Faith.





Chapter 19





He found her sitting at his desk and trying to cut open the taped seams  of the package but the scissors kept slipping. It had probably been what  had bought him some time.

"Let me," Lars said but she wrenched the package back toward her.

"No." Her gaze shot to him. "You guys tell me where to sleep, eat and  work. It's enough. This was delivered for me and I'm going to be the one  to open it." She stared at him, making it clear she was going to stand  her ground on this.

He was at a loss. He knew that he and his guys were, in essence,  micromanaging her life but she hadn't complained once. And he didn't  think this was so much about opening a package that was surely going to  carry a bad message as her needing to gain some tiny bit of control  back. He didn't like it but she was right. If he respected her then he  had to let her do it.