Page 11 of Double the Dilemma

“I don’t know, brother,” Razor finally answered tiredly. “I know she wants this. I can see the longing in her eyes, even when she acts like she only wants sex and nothing more. But last night she told me she was done, and even though I told her I wasn’t letting her go, I’m wondering if it’s worth it. Why go to all this effort for someone that doesn’t want to return the favor? What’s the damn point?”

Jax was silent for a moment. “I guess it depends on how much you want her. Are you willing to put up with her pushing you away for who the hell knows how long, until you finally start chipping away at her resolve?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Razor growled in frustration, tossing the wrench on the bench and running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want a woman, brother. I wanted footloose, fancy free, and no commitment. Die at a good old age, preferably after some hot sex, and some damn fine liquor in my blood.”

Jax grinned. “You could still have that, but who is the woman in your bed? Some faceless woman, or Karissa?”

That was the thing, wasn’t it. He couldn’t picture any other woman. It was always Karissa. Fuck, he hated sounding like some lovesick fool. He was better than this. He was a biker for God’s sake, and he shouldn’t be letting a woman into his head this way. “Fuck,” he hissed, glaring at the ground, pissed all over again.

“Brother, I think we both know you want her, and you knew going in she wasn’t going to be easy,” Jax pointed out. “So do what Rogue said, grow a pair, and prove to her you’re not letting her walk away. And if she does leave, well, at least you can say you tried, and won’t have any regrets.”

Razor had to agree. He needed to get his head in the game to show Karissa he meant what he said. He would leave her alone tonight, let her think she was safe, and then tomorrow, he would work on breaking down those walls of hers.

Karissa may have been on her own for most of her life, but she wasn’t alone anymore. He just had to prove it to her.

CHAPTERSIX

KARISSA

Karissa sat with her back against the wall of her bedroom, facing the doorway, and close enough to the window that she could either surprise anyone trying to get in, or get out fast. She didn’t dare take any chances. Not when Sena was after her. She had her gun at her side, within quick and easy reach, and her knives strapped in easy places to grab. Her old training had kicked in, and she knew she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

It infuriated her too, because she knew that was what Sena wanted. Sena wanted her panicked. She was tired of it, and if Esme, Gabe, or the other women from the club wouldn’t get hurt, she’d end this once and for all. But she wouldn’t risk their lives over hers, so she was going to leave, and in the next location, she would finally stop Sena.

Permanently.

She thought back to when Sena had been sentenced the first time for attempted murder. The judge had been pretty lenient in his sentencing, in Karissa’s opinion, sending her to a psychiatric hospital because her lawyers played the insanity card. They blamed Karissa for pushing her over the edge. Not that Karissa expected much else. The system was geared to protect itself, even then.

So Sena went away, and she spent the remainder of her adolescence with a different foster family that mostly ignored her and cashed their checks for her staying there every month. When she aged out, she left with nothing more than a duffle bag and some cash she had managed to save up from a part-time job, and never looked back.

Except, she allowed herself to fall into complacency when she should have been keeping tabs on Sena. Because Sena never forgot about her. Not while she was manipulating the shrinks and the staff at the psych ward. Finally, just short of her twentieth birthday, they deemed her “cured” and set her free. Then she sought out Karissa.

Karissa remembered that night vividly. It was the start of her constant need to be on the move, and what drove her to the place she finally connected with Esme.

She walked home, ready to just crash for the night. She had even splurged on the way home for a sub from her favorite deli. She rarely ate out, but after putting in so many hours today working at both jobs, she knew she wouldn’t want to cook anything when she got home. Hell, she’d be lucky to even take her clothes off before falling into bed, she was so tired. But she had enough money saved and would be able to get a better apartment soon, and she heard of a spot she could waitress not far away from her desired area, and hopefully it would pay more since it was a busy spot.

Those goals were a few months away, though, so she wouldn’t dwell on it too much. She had to be patient.

When she arrived at the apartment building, she nodded at the man who always stood at the end of the walkway that led up to the door. She wasn’t sure what his story was, because he didn’t appear to be drunk or on drugs, but he also wasn’t the most friendly sort. He just gave her a cold stare as she made her way past him, and then turned away and continued to watch the street and sidewalks. She supposed she shouldn’t complain, because he probably kept the place free of any real weirdos.

When she reached her door, she let out a sigh of relief. Finally, she was home. She unlocked the door, let herself in, shut it behind her, and sank back against it in exhaustion. She toed off her shoes, not bothering to turn on the light, and made her way into the tiny kitchen before turning on the light over the stove out of habit. She didn’t mind the dark, but it would probably be better if she didn’t accidentally run into anything, she thought to herself.

She set her bag on the counter, and pulled out her sub before grabbing a plate from the cabinet overhead. She had a date with it, her couch, and some terrible movie she’d watch until she was too tired to keep her eyes open, before forcing herself to stumble off to bed.

Suddenly, the lights in the kitchen turned on, and Karissa froze. Someone was here. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she quickly looked around for a weapon, but the only thing she had was her small purse which probably wouldn’t do much damage. Wait, she had some mace in there, she thought suddenly, rushing to grab it out of the front pocket and turn around. Her stomach clenched when she saw who was standing there.

Sena hadn’t changed much, other than her dark hair now being shaved on both sides of her head with the length on top spiked up. Her eyes were still the same dark brown, though she had lined them with dark, heavy make-up. Her face had filled out a bit, but everything else about her was the same. Including the cruel smile pulled across her face.

Karissa felt the old wounds in her side and chest start to throb in reaction, but she didn’t move. She stared at the other woman and waited.

“What’s the matter, Krissy?” Sena taunted. “You don’t look too happy to see me.”

“Forgive me for thinking that you were still locked up in the loony bin,” Karissa returned mildly. All her old instincts reared up and she braced as she watched the flash of rage that went through Sena’s eyes.

Surprisingly, though, instead of rushing at her like she would have before, Sena lifted a hand, pretending to inspect her nails. Karissa noted the black and red nail polish she had, along with the thick ring on her thumb. The ring was gold and looked like a graduation ring of some kind, which told her that it was stolen, because Sena hadn’t finished her high school diploma, let alone attended college. “You see, about that,” Sena began with a humorless laugh. “Apparently all you have to do nowadays is be a good little patient, say all the right things, and look at that, you’re free. So here I am. And in the eyes of the law, I’m all cured and ready to be back in society.”

“And you came to find me,” Karissa finished for her. “To what? Finish the job?” If Sena was here to kill her, she would not make it easy on her. She was older now, stronger, wiser, and she would give her a hell of a better fight than before.

“Oh, I plan on finishing the job,” Sena chuckled, a sound that was almost gleeful despite the flat look in her eyes. She stepped further into the kitchen; Karissa didn’t move an inch. She didn’t dare take her eyes away from the madwoman in front of her. “Just not yet,” Sena continued, stopping five feet away from her. Just enough space for Karissa to get through, but not enough that it would allow her to escape before Sena could grab her. She was cornered, since the kitchen was a galley style with no other way out other than the tiny window above the sink that looked out over the street below. Four floors down. “I have plans for you first,” Sena continued.

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