Is the love of a bad man as fulfilling as that of a good man—if he’s good to you?
The fantasy for most women is the happily ever after, the white knight or the prince charming. Or maybe they imagine the hero swoops in to save them from their mundane existence. But what happens if you catch the attention of the villain instead? Tiffany aka Karma is about to find out…
Karma isn’t just a name; it’s a way of life for an exotic dancer with a taste for vigilante justice. She should have been more careful though, because her deeds haven’t gone completely unnoticed. A man who isn’t quite human, with the predilection for destruction, has set his sights on her. His brand of love is tainted…twisted, and Karma is powerless to resist.
His muddy gaze slid over me with disdain and his lips curled up into a sneer. “You really didn’t think I was going to let you get away with that, did you?”
Internally I was trying to quickly come up with a plan. I wasn’t some preternaturally gifted being of some sort, not that those existed. Sure I took martial arts and self-defense but…in real life being about a foot shorter than this guy put me at a huge disadvantage. I usually used surprise…and weapons to even those kinds of odds. I was lacking both of those at the moment. I donned the best fake smile I could muster. “Get away with what? I told you I’m not for sale. You got what you paid for.”
The kid’s eyes narrowed and hostility rolled off of him in waves. “You led me on. You made me think—”
“I never led you on for even a second. You paid for and I gave you time in the private room with me where you received a very up close and personal dance that lasted the span of a few songs. I told you before, my sexual favors aren’t for sale. Whatever you’ve heard about me or any of the other girls at Club Elite is a lie. This isn’t that kind of place.” I crossed my arms over my chest and attempted to make it seem like he wasn’t intimidating me. How the hell did he get past the security downstairs and know where to find me?
He rushed at me, letting me know that our little tête-à-tête was over. I dropped my bag and made myself ready. I can do this. Just pretend— My inner pep talk was cut off as I was tackled to the ground and all the air left my lungs. I strained my neck muscles to keep the impact on my head as little as possible. I tried to bring my knee up between his legs but he was already pinning me with his full body weight. I head butted him instead. My forehead made contact with his nose and he screamed in tandem with the loud crunching noise the blow made. Blood spurted everywhere and he rolled off of me. He recovered more quickly than I expected and stars danced in front of my eyes when his fist connected with the side of my face. I collapsed onto my back and blinked dazedly. Taking a full out punch was something I’d never done before. It didn’t feel good, to say the least, and it was more difficult to shake off than people in movies always made it seem.
D.T. was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. (Black & Gold for life, baby!) She now lives in Little Rock, Arkansas with her husband and two spoiled German Shepherds.