"Karma was different. She had potential and also a skill set that made her appealing," Fate shot back at Cutty.
Lars made the mistake of looking back at Cutty. He could read his thoughts so clearly. He looked at Fate and then to him, clearly saying, See? He defends his woman.
"And how do we know that the same wasn't the case with Faith?" Cutty asked, glaring angrily at Lars, rather than Fate, who he was arguing with.
"What skill set has she demonstrated?" Fate asked.
"I don't know," Cutty said. "But I trust her. Maybe that's it? Maybe she instills faith? Hell, it is her name, after all."
Fate let out a mocking laugh before voicing his disdainful reply. "Because that's definitely something Malokin and Keith would find useful."
"What do you think, Lars?" Cutty said, putting him on the spot.
"I think whatever the case is, that's unlikely to be her calling," Lars replied. Cutty was really starting to get his ire up. They barely knew the chick, and just because he might fuck her didn't mean he was obligated to have her back in every instance. The guilt trip Cutty was trying to lay on him was a step too far and he was already in a bad way. "The bottom line is, none of us know her that well. We need to be cautious," Lars shot back at Cutty.
"Lars is right. For now, I think we keep going as is." Fate walked across the room. "She's our guest as long as she doesn't try and leave. At least for now."
Lars felt guilty as he nodded but it was the only sane move. Everyone agreed, except for Cutty, who remained silent. Angus, Bic and Fate left but Cutty didn't budge from his spot. Lars remained in his, knowing the two of them had unspoken business.
The door to the shop swung closed and Cutty didn't wait long to get what was bothering him off his chest. "You can't be on both sides of the line."
"Man, what the fuck are you talking about?" Lars' head was starting to spin and he didn't need grief from one of his closest buddies.
Cutty stiffened. "You're either on her team or you're not."
"Team? There is no team. You said it yourself, it was a good idea to bang her. That doesn't make me and her a team. If that's all it took, I'd be on a hell of a lot of teams." Too many to count, and he didn't understand why Cutty was getting all up in arms this time.
Cutty pointed his finger at him even though he maintained his distance. "If you aren't going to have her back, don't touch her."
"Don't tell me who to touch or how I have to treat them if I do. I didn't ask for your advice on the subject, so stay out of it if you don't like what I do."
Cutty shook his head, clearly disgusted. "I don't want you to use her."
If it had been Fate, Lars would've punched him in the face already, just to shut him up. But it was Cutty, the guy that always covered his ass and had always taken his side-until now, that was. Still, he tried to reel back the anger he was feeling. "I might fuck her, not pledge my life to her. Why are you getting so out of whack about this?"
"You're an idiot," Cutty said, making Lars wonder why he'd bothered trying to discuss it at all.
"I don't get what your problem is," Lars said, feeling like he had to try one last time to smooth the waters between them.
"I just told you what my problem is. You're. An. Idiot." Cutty walked out of the shop and didn't look back.
Chapter 22
Lars was in the kitchen when Faith finally woke the next morning. Black shorts hung low on his hips and his torso naked, he looked sexy as hell cooking over the range. She could tell from the aroma he was making omelets. She took in a deep breath and noticed she could pick up the individual scents of pepper along with the dash of salt.
But as the sleep fled from her brain, everything that had gone down yesterday chased in behind it and drove out any joy she felt over her new discovery. Arthur was dead. Keith was still out there, and his obsession with her was stronger than ever. Then there was Lars, who'd talked to her in a strange way that had erased every care she had. Well, except for getting him into bed, that is.
Amidst all of it, she'd thrown herself at him and he hadn't accepted the invite. Today, with a clear head, every negative emotion from humiliation to raging grief began eating away at her.
She saw Lars heading towards her with a mug in hand, and she forced herself to sit up and start a day she wished she could fast forward through.
"Here."
"Thanks," she said, taking the offering. She sipped it and wondered how he'd known exactly how she took it.
"Come get some eggs," he said, walking back to the kitchen area.
She couldn't sit idly by like a spectator anymore while things happened to her. Her situation had hit critical mass. She dragged herself out of bed, armed with only a couple of sips of caffeine to fuel her through the upcoming moments.
She took a seat at the table in front of the omelet Lars had placed there. She picked up the fork, spending more time shuffling the eggs than she did eating them, while she debated on the best approach. She finally came to terms with the fact that some conversations didn't have a good entry point, they only had an emergency exit. "I want to thank you for trying to help me yesterday. I know you had good intentions. But whatever it was you did can't happen again."
She looked up at him now, out of necessity. He needed to understand she was serious.
He leaned back in the seat he'd taken opposite her. The muscles in his abdomen bunched as he relaxed against it, resting his arm along the back. His face was blank of expression.
She didn't know how he'd take this and she wasn't exactly in a position to dictate terms. This could very well get her kicked out but she needed to draw a line somewhere. She understood why he'd done it, but she needed to be in her right mind at all times. She didn't have the luxury of leaning on someone else any more than she already was.
He finally nodded, seeming to be okay with the line she'd drawn for him. "You know I only did it because you were in rough shape."
"I know."
She looked down at her eggs, only a couple of bites eaten, and at the mention of her condition last night, she didn't think she'd be eating anymore.
Arthur. It didn't seem real. Maybe because she didn't have a funeral to go to, or a body to ID, it was harder to believe. And the images she'd seen of his mangled body … They couldn't have been him. Or maybe she was becoming numb; maybe she needed to if she wanted to survive this and keep any type of sanity.
The numbness didn't want to expand to the last subject she had to address with him. "And I'm sorry about … " Faith's words faltered with the embarrassment at having to utter the reason for the apology.
"What?"
She looked up at him and wondered if he was playing stupid. When she looked at him though, he really didn't seem to know where she was heading with that statement. Then it dawned on her. He didn't think anything of what happened last night. He probably had girls falling all over him on a regular basis.
"What?" he repeated, and she realized it was too late to back out of the apology.
She had to explain herself somehow. If she'd been a good liar, she would've thought of something to make up. But instead of lying, Faith said, "I'm sorry I came on to you. I don't know what was wrong with me." She swore to herself that she was going to start practicing lying later that very day.
***
Lars leaned back and took in her fidgeting, the way her eyes kept breaking contact with his. "That's my fault," he said. "It was a side effect of what I did to you." She'd looked so uncomfortable that the lie had come out without even thinking about it. When had he started caring about a woman's feelings?
She looked relieved that she had something to blame it on other than owning the fact that she wanted him, and he instantly regretted saying it. He didn't have too much time to ponder it or let the irritation take hold before she hit him with another whammy.
"I really appreciate you letting me stay here but I think I need to get my own place. I don't think it's safe for anyone to get too close to me after what happened."
"Trust me, we'd be happy to have Malokin get within reach. You've got nothing to worry about on that front."
She shook her head. "I don't want to risk being responsible for something bad happening to anyone else."
And that's what he got for overpaying her. He'd known three thousand a week was too damn much but then the guys kept telling him it should be five thousand. He remembered how they carried on. What? Do you want her to have to bargain shop for everything she buys? How can you make her live like that?