My Name Is Karma: Journey to the Truth

By N.A. Cash

In the wake of Karma's discovery of her gifts and the traumatic events that led to the loss of and reconnection with family members, Karma goes on a journey to discover the truth behind her mysterious powers and, more importantly, behind the man who sought to destroy her and everything she loves. This voyage pulls her further from her life o

• Language: English
• Publisher: Duho Books
• Release date: May 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9780999491911

N.A. Cash

N.A. Cash, Bahamian author and Miss Earth Bahamas 2005, channels supernatural suspense through fiction. Cash, a self-described extraverted introverted psychologist, spins tales that merge her own vivid imagination with narratives inspired by her decades-long analysis of mysterious internal worlds of individuals encountered through her practice. Cash is also the author of My Name is Karma. For more, visit www.AuthorNACash.com.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I do! said the eager couple.

By the power vested in me by the state of Florida, I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss your bride! the Justice of the Peace invigilating the wedding declared.

The small crowd burst into rapturous applause as Dr. Maxwell Dune pulled Cicely, my best friend, into his arms and gave her a tender kiss. After the brief interlock of lips, she giggled, threw her bouquet on the floor and swung him around, holding him laterally as she planted a ferocious kiss on his lips. All of this caused the crowd to go wild with whoops and hollers. When she finally let him stand back up, Max looked stunned, but the wide grin on his face showed that his delight knew no bounds. They raised their intertwined hands as the spectators continued to clap.

I couldn’t hide my elation and clapped along with everyone else before bending over to pick up the discarded bouquet from where it was flung. Cicely and Max had already begun to move down the aisle to a rush of hugs and kisses from their family and friends. Cicely’s mother gripped her daughter and rained tears down her neck. Eventually, Cicely’s father had to pry his wife from their daughter to allow space for others to offer their congratulations. I rolled my eyes at her mother, a gesture that was not lost on her. She glared at me as I passed. I figured that I had just cemented her dislike of me.

You’re making her angry again, my companion, Valdez, joked as he took my arm and walked next to me down the aisle.

I can’t help it, I whispered, she’s so extreme! His head flew back, and he let out a loud laugh. When he laughed like this, I couldn’t help but to respond to its contagious nature. We chuckled all the way down the aisle behind Cicely and Max, people stopping us as well to complement us on how wonderful we looked, what a great job we did as maid of honor and best man, and what a cute couple we were.

We moved from the beach where the wedding was held into the adjoining tent set up for the reception, taking a moment to appreciate how amazing it looked. Dean, one of my father’s most trusted companions, his house manager and certified designer, had not only helped Cicely pick out her wedding gown and my bridesmaid outfit, he also oversaw the décor of this amazing space with its draped white tulle, sparkling chandeliers, and huge lavender rose bouquets on each table. We took our seats at the head table, and the celebration began.

I sat between Valdez and Cicely as we ate, drank, toasted, laughed, and watched as the new couple cut the cake, held each other during their first dance and gave a tearful speech to their family and friends for their support during this happy occasion. Occasionally, Valdez’s hand would slip under the table and he would give my thigh a squeeze whenever something particularly touching was said about the couple during the toasts. It was his way of letting me know that it also applied to how he felt about me. We had not openly shared these feelings in the eight months that we’d spent together getting to know one another, but he expressed more and more lately in nonverbal ways such as this.

The sips of champagne I took, which I never drank before, coupled with the fits of laughter between me and Valdez at Cicely’s mom’s growing over-emotionalism due to libations, caused me to feel lightheaded. I excused myself from the table and walked towards the hotel to use one of the bathrooms. After washing my hands and tossing some water on my face to revive it, I opened the door to return to the party only to find a young female worker standing at the door.

Excuse me, I said, trying to pass her, but she blocked the doorway.

Miss Karma? She stood about five feet, two inches, about six inches shy from my five feet eight-inch frame. She wore a typical housekeeper’s uniform—a knee length, maroon dress, a white apron, thick white stockings, and comfortable black shoes. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head and her face plastered with too much makeup. I squinted at her, wondering how she knew my name. Maybe she had cleaned my room and seen me?

Yes, that’s me. I said.

Can you follow me, please? she asked, with such a soft voice I strained to hear her. Your dad wants to see you.

What’s this about? I asked. Her doe-eyed stare reinforced her innocence.

I don’t know. He just sent me to get you. Will you come with me, please? She turned on her heels and began walking in the direction of the reception tent outside of the hotel. I was surprised at how quickly her legs moved for her height. Before we reached the double glass doors, she took a left and began walking to the other end of the hallway. She opened another metal door marked Exit and stepped outside into the night air. I paused for a moment, confused as to why we were using this exit instead of the other one. She motioned for me to step outside, looking towards a spot behind the door that I couldn’t see. I followed her out, and before I could question her again, she broke into a sprint down an alleyway to the left of the door. I turned to watch her run when a hard blow hit the back of my neck, knocking me out.

CHAPTER TWO

According to the clock ticking in my head since I woke up from the blow I was dealt, I had been plunged into pure darkness for about two hours. I had not only been thrown into a pitch-black room, but I was breathing through a scratchy cotton bag roughly thrust over my head. I was lying on a hard, concrete floor, feeling absolutely exhausted and bruised from the knocks I’d sustained. In the silence, I pondered why my life, once again, could not ever fit into the normal category.

I felt the left side of my body, which pressed against the unmovable concrete get numb, so with much effort, I rolled to the other side. Plastic ties bound my ankles together and my wrists behind my back, and the hood smelled like moldy bread. I sighed with an audible noise this time. I was so tired of being kidnapped, drugged, chased, plotted against, and stalked. Why can’t I just have a regular life? Even as the question screamed in my brain, the rational side of me already began to answer the query.

You’re special, Karma. You have gifts that many people would pay an arm and a leg for. You’ve used these gifts to hurt and even kill people before. They don’t like you. That last statement resonated like a taunt from a second grader. Despite the darkness nulling the effect of the gesture, I rolled my eyes.

This time around, I knew, at least suspected, who did the kidnapping. It’s not like they were professionals. They spoke to each other during the entire time, which enabled me to recognize their voices—Jumpy and Rock. I didn’t blame them for kidnapping me. I aided in killing their family members, and I seriously maimed a good friend of theirs, so this was a revenge kidnapping. I just wished they had done it after the reception was over, when I wasn’t wearing the costly ombre lavender dress. Although my family had money, and I had a considerable amount of my own to replace the attire, it seemed like just plain courtesy not to toss around a woman in an expensive gown.

The numbness crept through my right side, so I laid flat on my back. I could feel a mild coolness blowing against the bareness of my left foot, where I lost one of my lavender Louboutin pumps that Dean helped me pick out to match the dress.

Why can’t my life just be like everyone else’s? My rational side was drowned out by the sound of footsteps before it got the chance to answer the question again. I remained on my back and mentally braced myself. The footsteps grew louder, and a set of keys jingled and scratched against the lock to the door of my holding place. At once, the room flooded with a bright light that even the hood couldn’t block, resulting in me closing my eyes tightly until they got used to the shift in brightness. The door slammed, plunging me into darkness again before a click indicated that a lamp or overhead light had been turned on. A pair of hands grabbed me underneath my arms and dragged me to sit up against a cold wall. Someone yanked the hood from my head. I kept my eyes closed and then gradually squinted until they became adjusted to the light. A bulky figure was propped on one knee in the front of me while another slimmer figure rapidly paced in the background.

Why, hello, guys. Long time no see. How’s the family? I tried to sound as lighthearted as I dared, given the present circumstances. I began using humor and sarcasm as my defense mechanisms to help me deal with adverse situations, along with other methods, such as counting and deep breathing, to stop my temper from getting out of hand.

Rock drew back and landed a hard slap to my left cheek. My teeth cut into my cheek, causing my mouth to fill with blood. In quite an unladylike manner, I spat onto the floor, then turned and glared back at him. Jumpy had burst into a fit of giggles at the move. Rock turned to him.

Shut up he growled. He looked back at me. You killed them, remember? His voice rumbled low from his throat.

Was that me? I asked innocently. I don’t even know your family, nor could I cause such a thing to happen.

He raised his fist and landed a crude blow to my already bent body. The air swooshed out of me in one quick breath. I curled over, feeling like one of my ribs was broken. Jumpy let out another fit of giggles. Rock’s huge hand violently yanked my hair, pulling my head back toward the wall.

Ow! I cried, still struggling to breathe after the last blow. In raspy gasps, I said, You know…it took a long time…to get that fixed.

In response, he yanked harder at the clump of hair in his hand, his huge round face coming very close to mine. He then made a noise deep in his throat, pursed his lips, and spat on me. Fix that, you witch, he said, slamming my head against the stone wall.

He then stood up and stared down at me. Jumpy came over and landed a kick to my left side, which sent me crashing down to my right. At that moment, I had enough. They had gotten their revenge by kidnapping me, but to beat and then, of all things, spit on me? They crossed the threshold of the rope I had given them to work out their grief. What I had planned for them was going to bring me much pleasure.

CHAPTER THREE

Are you…sure…you want…to do this? The words came from me in short gasps. That last kick hurt tremendously. My energy seeped away with each staggered breath I took, and anger slowly began to replace it. The familiar feeling of heat rising within from the depths of my being and slowly blossoming outward moved throughout my abdomen and then spread to my limbs. I could feel the heat being transferred to my hands which caused the plastic bonds on my wrists to melt away into a slimy and sticky mess. I wriggled my fingers and flexed my hands behind my back, keeping my arms in place to give the impression that my hands were still tied.

Oh, you don’t know how long we’ve been waiting on this, Rock hissed. Jumpy paced around him in an excited manner and then walked back over to deliver one more kick to my body. As his foot drew back, I pulled one hand from behind my back and pointed it toward his foot. A loud crack sounded as Jumpy’s ankle twisted. I flicked my hand yet again and another resounding crack shot out and bounced against the walls of the empty concrete room. This time, Jumpy’s calf bones bent to be revealed through his muscles, flesh, and clothing. He let out a shrill scream and dropped to the floor, writhing in pain.

It took a moment for Rock to realize what was happening before he moved to pounce on me. With my other free hand, I pointed at the fist that came with considerable speed, in my direction. His hand bent all the way back as his wrist twisted suddenly. Mid-stride towards me, his weight and force of movement (with a little help from me) caused him to crash into the wall above me as I moved right in time to avoid the collision. I heard a sickening thump as his head hit the concrete. I then saw his body slump down toward the floor. I used my elbow to push myself into a sitting position, wheezing and gasping at the renewed burst of pain that shot through my body. I wiped the spit from my face and looked at the two figures. Rock had knocked himself out. At the very least, he had suffered a concussion; however, as a dark red substance oozed from a deep gash on his forehead, I figured his injuries would be more serious than that. I turned to stare at Jumpy, who bled profusely through his wounds at this point. He was still screaming.

The door slammed against the wall and revealed the most beautiful sight I could imagine at that point. The wrinkled lines around Valdez’s eyes and the way he flexed the muscles in his jaw showed me how angry he was. He still looked so handsome, however, dressed in his tuxedo with his bow tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck, and through my pain I smiled.

You’re here, I managed to breathe out. He rushed over and picked me up in one smooth swoop. I finally felt safe as I placed my arms around his neck, snuggled my head against him and he held me closer. Without a word, he carried me toward the door.

Wait, I gasped, lifting my head with much effort to look at him. He stopped at the threshold and stared at me, confusion in his eyes. What about them? It took too much effort to turn so I dipped my head back to indicate the two people on the floor. Valdez glanced back at Jumpy and Rock’s maimed bodies and then stared at me.

We’ll call an ambulance. His voice sounded gruff and strained. He walked out of the room.

As soon as we stepped out of the door, my father appeared from his black SUV parked a few feet from the building. He rushed towards us and placed a hand on my forehead. The bruises I had sustained from being knocked around and grabbed had already started to show on my arms in large purple welts. I was almost sure that my legs had similar marks.

Sweetheart, Pap’s voice sounded brusque and strained like Valdez’s. Are you okay? What did they do to you? We were so worried. I grimaced from trying to smile and the pain it caused.

I’m okay, Pap. Just a bit of bruising. Nothing Aunt Shugs can’t fix. On cue, another door of the SUV was thrown open, and Aunt Shugs’s plump figure came running towards us, her gentle face etched with concern. She was followed by Cicely, in her wedding gown, and Max. All of their faces showed a mixture of worry, fear, and relief.

Hey, I breathed, trying to catch my breath after the simple word. We’re having the rest of the party here? I tried to smile again, but the pain in my face turned it into a ludicrous expression.

Shhh, child. Drink this. Aunt Shugs held a brown soda bottle to my mouth. Aunt Shugs made some healing concoctions, which tasted great and helped save my life once before. I parted my lips as she tilted the bottle to them. The warm liquid entered my throat and slithered its way down. Almost immediately, a pleasant burst of sensation coursed throughout my body. It was followed by an exhaustion that crept through me, numbing my body first and then my mind. I gave one last attempt at a smile and then rested my head back on Valdez’s shoulder and fell asleep.

CHAPTER FOUR

I woke to hear whispers around me. I wasn’t ready to open my eyes just yet, so I listened. The muffled male voice sounded like Pap’s. A softer female’s voice chimed in when his went silent. After straining for a moment, I realized it was Mam’s voice. I pried open one eye and then the other to the familiar sight of my room.

Her thin, wispy figure slumped in the wheelchair where she sat. In between my half-opened eyes and the glow from the sunlight streaming in through the window behind her, she appeared ethereal in her off-white, long nightgown. She had not long awakened from the coma she was trapped in when I found her in the secret basement of our old house in Louisiana. Since it burned down, we were now staying with Pap in his mansion, about two-and-a-half-hour drive from the Louisiana–Texas border. I was surprised that she was well enough to sit and talk.

Mam, what are you doing out of bed? My voice croaked like I had been stuck in a desert for way too long without water. Her frail hand reached over and rested lightly on my wrist.

Don’t speak yet, sweetie. Rest.

Pap’s deep voice called out something unintelligible, and a few seconds later, Dean entered the room with a polished tray containing a bottle of water and what I suspected to be some of Aunt Shugs’ heal-all magic serum. This seemed to cure any illness which presented itself. I wasn’t sure about any illness, but it sure worked magic on the sniffles, dizziness, a sore throat, and other small things like broken bones and bruises. Pap used his arms to scoop me into a sitting position, propping me against the bed frame. The movement didn’t cause the pain I would have expected after the beating I took, but there was still some discomfort in my face and rib area, which caused me to wince. Dean raised the water bottle to my lips, and I gulped the cool liquid greedily. He then gave me a sip of some of the liquid from the brown bottle, which, as it turned out, wasn’t Aunt Shugs’ magic serum, but just plain and refreshing root beer – my favorite.

Mam and Pap watched intensely for any level of discomfort or aching on my part as I drained both bottles. Dean, after getting a nod from Pap, backed out of the room as quietly as he entered. Pap broke the silence.

How you feeling, hon? His voice, laced with worry, matched the frown lines in his forehead.

I’m okay. Feeling better actually. I tried to sound more upbeat than I felt. I saw a look pass between my parents, resembling the one that used to pass over their faces when I was younger, and they caught me in a lie. It caused me to smile.

Okay, okay. I feel rotten, but you guys don’t look too good either. Mam gave a wry smile and the lines in Pap’s forehead decreased as his eyes twinkled.

Seriously though, I interjected, Mam, how are you?

I’m okay. Your father, Dean, and Shugs have been taking very good care of me, pampering and cooing over me like I’m some child. Mam playfully swatted Pap’s hand that reached over to stroke her hair. When she turned back to me, the smile still played on her lips, but her eyes gave away a hint of doubt.

Do you remember anything? I asked tentatively, not being sure if this was the best time to broach the subject of her