C.A.K.E novel Chapter 14

Two-thirty in the morning and Karma's just now slipping into the hotel's shower. Cain made his exit about fifteen minutes ago. She's been lying in the middle of a rented bed, trying to recover from his eight-inch pleasure stick.

After she's washed Cain's essence off her body, she gets dressed and does her makeup again. She dabs at her lipstick and smudges her eyeliner a bit. Then she spritzes her face with a little water. For her excuse that she's been stuck in her office all night to fly, she has to look the part. L'oreal has some fantastic foundation, but even it wouldn't look flawless after twelve hours.

She collapses on one of the lounge chairs in the suite and flips through a couple of channels on the flat screen. The urge to go home hasn't struck her. In fact, she's thinking about spending the night here. After all, she's already paid for it. That seems like a far better option than creeping into her home at this hour.

Casper must be going out of his mind. She checks her cell, expecting to see a host of messages from her husband. But there are no missed calls or frantic voicemails for her to listen to with an aggravated smirk painted on her face. Maybe he fell asleep.

Or maybe he just doesn't give a shit about where you are, bitch.

She shakes her head and chuckles. That can't be it. Casper probably dozed off watching re-runs on the sofa. He spent the entire evening waiting up for her. Yep, that's exactly what happened.

Content with her analysis of the apparent lack of her husband's concern for her whereabouts, she does one more check of the hotel room. The last time she and Cain spent a few hours in a rented hideaway, she left behind a pair of diamond studs that Casper bought for her birthday. She touched her hand to her ears and found them bare in time to rush back upstairs to retrieve them.

Karma grabs her handbag. After she's checked its depths to ensure that she hasn't left anything for housekeeping to find, she saunters down the hallway to the elevators. She smiles at another woman dressed in a power suit walking in the opposite direction.

The woman gives her a knowing nod as they pass each other. Perhaps they're both stalking the halls of this luxury hotel for the same reason. And it ain't for the tiny hotel soaps and shampoos.

She informs the front desk that she'll be checking out early, and settles the balance on the room. This little habit of hers is getting expensive.

Cain can't leave a paper trail for his wife to find. Manali keeps a close eye on her husband's checking and savings accounts. Cain doesn't inspire the most trustworthy of feelings in her, with his evasive answers and long absences.

So Karma has to foot the bill for their rendezvous. She keeps a separate account in her maiden name away from Casper's eyes. As far as he knows, she barely buys a stick of gum every month. She does all her questionable spending on the hidden books.

If Casper really knew about all the dirt she does, their five-year marriage would have been over a long time ago.

She rushes to her car, checking over her shoulder the entire time. It's well after midnight, and she's a woman walking alone. Even if she hadn't insisted that she and Cain not be seen leaving together, she doubts he would have stayed to see that she made it safely to her vehicle.

Cain's number one priority is Cain. His second and third priorities also happen to be himself. He makes her look like a saint sometimes.

A light rain must have chosen to drench the city while she and Cain were indisposed. The few street lights reflect off the slick asphalt, making the dark streets glow like they've been scattered with copper pennies.

She speeds through the near-deserted streets watching corners and crannies for any overzealous state troopers looking to reach their monthly quota. The last thing she wants to do is answer that incriminating question, “Do you know why I stopped you, ma'am?”

It's near impossible for a person to answer that damn question without admitting that one was indeed speeding, or neglected to perform a full stop instead of the standard California roll at that stop sign. It's entrapment if you ask her.

Karma pulls into her driveway and is relieved to see that there doesn't appear to be any lights on in the house. She gets out of the car, and locks the sedan from the inside, then pushes the heavy metal door closed with her hip.

She glances around the sleepy cul-de-sac. Not a creature is stirring, save for an adulterous spouse.

Karma pulls off her heels, choosing to carry them in her hand as she makes her way up their front porch. She says a silent prayer that Casper forgot to set the security system, then pushes her key into the lock. The alarm control panel next to the door flashes the words “not armed” in neon green.

Good. The alarm won't be waking up half the neighborhood.

Karma tiptoes inside and presses the oak door into its frame once more with a feather-light touch. She waits with her head against the door, not breathing. As if creeping around like a church mouse will make her entrance at this ungodly hour any less disruptive.

She closes her eyes and makes a slow about-face, putting her back against the door. Karma takes a deep breath and prepares herself to dodge the creaky floorboards.

She opens her eyes. And just as she lifts her toes to make that first step, she sees Casper's imposing build staring right at her. Her breathing stops cold. A prickling sensation overtakes her body, as her lungs and other organs scream for air.

“What the fuck, Casper?!”

He's sitting in the dark with a vile expression on his face. His eyes look like they haven't rested in days. His tall frame is still dressed in his Armani slacks and Ralph Lauren shirt.

“What's his fucking name?”

She remembers Cain's words from their earlier phone conversation. Nothing to worry about ... He doesn't suspect a thing. Fuck, Cain.

He skipped out of that hotel room, knowing full well that Casper has caught their scent and is busy sniffing out their lying trail. She finds her composure and plasters on her best poker face. See what he knows first. Maybe she can talk her way out of his suspicion.

“Whose name?” she asks, placing her things down on the mirrored buffet in the foyer.

“The bloke you've been fucking.” He scratches at his goatee, then runs his hand over the dark hairs. “What is his name?”

“Casper, honey, I don't know what you're talking about.” She approaches him and smooths over his wrinkled lapel with her hand. “You look exhausted. Let's just go to bed.”

He catches her hand in his and caresses the milk chocolate skin covering her slender digits.

“Karma. You look plenty rested.” He kisses the back of her hand. “And my eyes are now wide open ... Neither of us needs to sleep.”

She sighs and places her free hand on her hip. “I was at work. You know that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” A little too much attitude is apparent in her voice.

He ignores the bass in her voice and keeps his tone even. “Someone should have informed your boss then. Frome thinks you're at home nursing a sick relative.”

“Casper ...”

“Which is funny for two reasons.” He holds up one of her fingers. “One, because you haven't been home for hours.” He raises another of her fingers and kisses it. “And two ... You don't have any relatives here besides my family.” He glances up at her. “Last I checked, none of them are suffering from so much as a hangnail.”

Karma swallows hard. Perspiration is soiling the armpits of her dress. She shifts her weight from foot to foot and avoids his gaze.

“I um ... just needed to take some time to myself. The stress of the Pollard case is starting to get to me. And—.”

“Please, Karma.” He lets go of her hand. “We both know you thrive on that shit. The higher profile case, the more press, the more you get off on it.”

She rolls her eyes. Everything he said is true. She loves the thrill her profession offers. It's a high stakes game for her. And she loves charging into the fray.

“Maybe we should talk about this in the morning. When we've both had some time to think.” She attempts to pull him from the chair and towards their bedroom.

Casper resists the slight force of her small frame and draws her back to him.

“I've had nothing but time to think. That's all I can do when you disappear. I've done enough thinking to last a lifetime.” He shrugs. “Maybe you need some time to think up another bullshit story?”

She tries another tactic. Karma takes a seat on his lap and cradles his face in her hands. She stares into his eyes.

“Baby, I know I've been really wrapped up in my work lately.” She kisses his neck, then nibbles on his ear. “Let me make it up to you.”

He pushes her away with a surprising amount of force. Karma loses her balance and hits the floor with a thud. She stares up at him, her eyes wide.

“I'm not in the mood for a pity fuck. All I'm interested in at the moment is the motherfucker's name who I'm sharing your pussy with.” He glares down at her, making no move to help her off the cold floor.

His vulgar language is something foreign to her. This isn't her husband. Casper would never even blow on her hard. And he's never referred to her in such a disrespectful manner. She decides to try some truth.

“His name isn't important.” She kneels before him. “He isn't important to me. You are.”

“Cut the bull, Karma. And tell me his bloody name.”

“It doesn't matter.” She shakes her head. “You don't know him.”

“Another fucking lie.” He chuckles, running his fingers over his close-cropped hair.

Her brow wrinkles. “What are you talking about?”

“You and I both know him very well.”

“I don't understand,” she mumbles.

“My brother, Karma ... My motherfucking brother.” He's yelling now. His accent is amplified, making it difficult for her to discern his words. But the language of anger is universal and transcends the barriers of any cultural inflection.

She gets up from the floor and backs away from him. Her breath chooses to hide in the depths of her petrified lungs, rather than encounter the strained environment she's created for herself. How did this happen? They were always careful, or so she thought. How the hell did he know?

“Casper, I love your brother. But I assure you, there is—.”

“Ah, doesn't matter.” He tucks his hands into his pockets. “We've got more important ground to cover.” He switches on a nearby lamp. Then he pulls a sheet of paper from the stack and points out a highlighted charge on the bank statement. “I can't seem to figure this one out.” He kneels next to her and examines the paper. “A charge for the Hyatt hotel appeared on your account a few hours ago.”

“Where did you get this?” she asks, eyeing the printout of her private information.

“I have my ways.” He shrugs. “So which is it, Karma? ... Were you at work. The hospital. Or screwing my baby brother?”

She sniffles. “How do you expect me to answer that?”

“I think it's safe to assume my expectations aren't going to be met tonight.” He bends to her level. She can see the putrid cocktail of anger and hurt swirling in his eyes. “So I couldn't give two shits how you decide to answer that.”

She takes a ragged inhale, trying to breathe through the tears clouding her senses.

“Nothing happened between Cain and me. I swear.”

Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? So help you, God?

Karma has listened to countless witnesses and offenders take that oath. Here she is, an officer of the court, and she can't live by those words. Even though it's evident that she's been caught in a lie. She can't face the fact that her sweet and trusting husband has outsmarted her. That she's been walking around thinking she was pulling the wool over poor Casper's eyes. And he's been watching her dig herself further and further into a hole the entire time.

“Karma, it may be wise for you to start telling me the truth.” He picks up the leather portfolio and flips through it again. “There are six months of recordings here. Hours of surveillance from all over the house. I haven't watched any of it yet.”

He pulls out a Blu-ray dated three months ago. Karma's eyes get wide. She remembers that time period very well. She and Cain were sneaking back to her house five times a week. Little did she know, they were performing for big brother. Pardon the pun.

“You haven't watched them?” she asks, glancing up at him.

“Nope, I have no clue what is on these discs. Could be four thousand three hundred eighty-three hours of dust bunnies for all I know.” He eyeballs the Blu-ray in his hand. “But I was hoping one of you would grow a conscience and confess. So that I wouldn't have to find out for myself.”

“Baby, believe me. It's not what you think.” She rises from the chair again and attempts to get near him. He pushes her back down by her shoulders.

“Let's play a little game.” He paces in front of her, wearing a groove into the dark hardwood floor. Then he stops short and smirks at her. “You like playing games. Don't you, sweetheart?”

She swallows a thick gulp of air and swipes at her eyes.

“A game?”

“Yes, a game.” He claps his hands. “More of a wager to be exact.” He stands at the back of the wingback chair, rubbing her shoulders. “Let's call it, Guess Who Karma's Fucking. Catchy title, huh?”

She sits dumbfounded as he releases her frozen image from the screen's pixelated purgatory.

“I bet I can guess bang on, who is about to walk through that door.”

She looks away from the computer. He takes hold of her chin, making her watch the events unfold.

“I bet my baby brother, Cain, is on the other side of that door.” He leans closer to whisper in her ear. “What do you think my odds are?”

Karma looks at the scene playing on the screen. A man's heavy build approaches the door, casting an imposing shadow through the decorative glass panels of the handcrafted, oak door. Her heart rate accelerates to an alarming pace. She pauses the playback.

“Enough. You win, Casper.” She shifts to face him, tears glistening in her eyes. “You win, all right.”

“I win?” His deep laugh echoes throughout the empty house. “What the fuck do I win, Karma?” He throws his hands in the air. “Hmm? ... How in the bleeding hell am I the lucky bastard in this situation?”

“I'll tell you—I'll tell you the truth,” she stammers, near hyperventilation.

He clicks play and glares at his brother's face walking into his home. He watches as Cain kisses and gropes Karma. As the two people whom he trusted most in the world betray him.

“Lot of good that does me when I'm looking right at it.” The tension in his jaw at the moment would be enough to crush boulders.

“Casper —.” She grabs for his hand. And again, he pulls away from her.

He fishes through her handbag to find her phone, then hands it to her.

“Call your boyfriend. We need to have a little come to Jesus meeting.”