The Perversion Trilogy: Perversion, Possession & Permission

by T. M. Frazier

  “Dismissed,” Marco says, turning to Memo.

  I leave them and head down the stairs. I take out my phone and call Gabby as I leave. She answers on the first ring. The number one rule of faking a phone call is to actually make a call. If your screen isn’t lit up or if it rings in the middle of your fake conversation, you’re done. I swallow down the anxiety rising in my throat.

  “Hello? EJ?” Gabby asks over and over again on the other end.

  I pretend she can hear me as I walk past Fright. “OMG, Gabby, your brother needs to lighten up or those frown lines are not going to get any better.” I look down at my nails. “You wanna watch the new Ryan Reynolds flick on Netflix tonight? Leo says we can use her lap top and hack into the tower for WIFI again. I hear him and his wife are on the outs, which naturally gives at least one of us a shot.”

  I even go so far as to pretend to be chewing gum. I take the time to stop and tie my shoe so I don’t seem like I’m in a hurry to get away. Ignoring the instinct to run is tearing me apart. I’m burning up from the inside out.

  “If you wanna watch the Lady Gaga documentary again, can we do it after Ryan Reynolds? Last time, you fell asleep, and I couldn’t sing along to any of the songs because I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “EJ, is everything okay? What the fuck is going on? Where did you go?” Gabby asks, sounding as panicked as I feel.

  I stand back up, ignoring the aching pains in my body and give Fright a wink. I head in the direction of the apartment I share with Gabby.

  I twirl my hair in my fingers.

  I adjust my backpack from one shoulder to the other.

  Even though he’s three floors up and a building away now, I can hear Marco screaming orders at Memo and throwing things across his office in a rage.

  “I’m heading your way now,” I say to Gabby cheerfully.

  “I’ll stay on the line in case you need me,” Gabby says, catching on.

  I laugh hysterically at something Gabby didn’t say while I cross the tall grass in the field.

  While I’m hurting for Grim.

  While I’m dying inside.

  While I’m holding back tears.

  While Belly is dead.

  Twenty-Six

  The funeral is three days after I learn the news. I arrive through the back door. The house is lit up for a party with loud music and boisterous voices. Not anything like I expected.

  I’m wearing a skin tight strapless black dress I borrowed from Leo with my denim jacket over the top and my usual dirty yellow Keds.

  I move through the crowd of leather-wearing bikers. Marci greets me but keeps her distance. “Thank you for coming. Marco sent word he was sending someone in his place. I assume that’s you?”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s me,” I say, keeping up the charade of not knowing her.

  “Funerals are neutral, sweetie. You don’t have to worry about anyone here. Make yourself at home. Grab a drink.” Her eyes look sad, but she perks up when a burly biker comes and wraps her in a hug.

  “I’m so sorry, Marci,” the man says. She looks at me over his shoulder and I mouth those same words to her. I also slip Belly’s Bedlam ring into her pocket as I pass her by. Marco thinks he lost it when he trashed his office. The truth is I never left it in his office to begin with. It came in when I did and left with me.

  The man releases Marci, who nods and waves the tears away from her face. She whispers, “It will all be okay, sweetie. I promise. I believe in you. In Grim. In us. He loves you, just in case the fucker can’t tell you himself. You need to know that. We love you, too. So did Belly.”

  “Check your pocket,” I whisper. My tears are threatening to spill and so are hers. More so when she pats her pocket and instantly knows what’s there.

  We both turn in opposite directions. I take a few deep breaths to steady myself and remember that I’m there on Marco’s behalf. I turn my face hard and pretend that I’m indifferent to all the goings on around me.

  I spot Margaret standing with Damon on the other side of the crowd. She acknowledges me with a nod and quickly looks away.

  The music suddenly shuts off and all attention turns to the front of the living room where Sandy is standing in front of the fire place with tears streaming down his face and a bottle of whiskey in his hands.

  “I’m gonna say a few…words…about…” Between his hiccups and tears, his words are inaudible at best.

  When people gather around to hear what Sandy has to say, I stay at the back of the crowd by the kitchen window.

  “I just wanna say. That I...” Sandy breaks out in sobs until Grim appears. He’s wearing a tight, black t-shirt. His eyes have dark circles under them. He wraps his arm around Sandy and pulls him to the side, whispering something in his ear.

  Sandy joins Marci on the couch. She places her arm around him.

  Grim clears his throat like he’s going to say something, and I’m taken aback. Is the boy who never spoke until he was sixteen about to say something to the crowd? Pride and love and longing are all I feel as I stare up at Grim.

  He scans the crowd like he’s searching for someone but looks to the beer in his hand when he doesn’t find it. He straightens and stares at everyone with a confidence that makes me shiver.

  “I’m not one for public words. Ya’ll know that. But this was one of Belly’s last requests, that one of his sons says a few things. I think he meant Sandy, but that didn’t exactly go as planned.”

  The crowd chuckles.

  “If he meant me, then I think it was just to fuck with me from wherever the fuck retired bikers go when they meet their end, but I’m gonna give it a shot because Belly knew that I don’t ever step down to a challenge. And I’m not about to now. Not while he might be watching.” Grim clears his throat. Then, he looks up to the ceiling with a small smile that warms my heart. “Fuck you, pops.”

  The crowd laughs.

  Grim clears his throat again and looks to the floor. Then, his eyes land on mine. Something sizzles in the air between us for a split-second before he tears his eyes from mine.

  After what seems like a million years, he speaks again.

  “I never knew my real old man. I don’t think my mom knew him all that well, either. But for the last five years, I had Belly. He was my pops. A man who stepped up when no one else did. Someone who saw something in me as a positive, as an asset, when everyone else turned away screaming and ran in the other direction. He didn’t tell me no. He told me ‘how can we use this so you can live your life as YOU. So you can thrive instead of suffocate’. That meant a lot to me. He also kept me fed me and kept a roof over my head when no one was forcing him to. You see, when I first came here, I thought Marci and Belly were getting money to take in foster kids like most do. But then I found an opened piece of mail one day, and it was a waiver of payment for guardian care. They requested that they not be paid when they had every right to be. They didn’t get shit because they didn’t want shit. They just wanted us. Me. Sandy. Haze. Digger, may he rest in peace. They wanted us just as we were. Fucked up and deranged and unpredictable.

  Belly said I reminded him of lot of a younger version of himself. If it weren’t for him, I’d be in a super max prison somewhere, awaiting my turn in the chair. Yeah, Belly was a brutal son of a bitch. He was a hard-ass, too. But that hard ass had a heart bigger than I knew someone could have. He showed me kindness when I didn’t deserve it.” Grim pauses and looks up at me. “Above all else, he showed me what’s important in this short life.”

  He looks to Marci and Sandy.

  “Family. Loyalty. And protecting those two things like they’re an extension of your own body. Because they are.”

  Grim winks at Sandy and Haze, who are sitting next to Marci. “Even though that lesson came with some fucking brothers I never wanted.”

  Haze shoots him the middle finger. Sandy laughs along with the crowd, but when realization sets in, he crinkles his forehead. “Heeeeyyy now!” he sings loudly.

  Marci pat
s Sandy’s shoulder, then shoves him playfully to the side of the couch.

  Grim continues. “I would do anything for my family. For Bedlam. Of course, part of the package deal was Marci. My Ma.” Grim’s eyes meet Marci’s. He speaks directly to her now. “You know, I had a mama once. But I think if she were still alive, she’d be more than happy with you filling in for her. She’d also really like your pot roast.”

  Marci waves him off and pretends to be embarrassed, but a smile is growing on her reddening face. Her eyes are filled with a mixture of happy and sad tears.

  And proud ones, too.

  Grim shakes his head, struggling to get through to the end. After a few seconds, he looks back at the crowd and steps toward the mantle, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. He holds it high up in the air.

  “My life!” he shouts.

  Most of the crowd joins in on the chant, holding one hand over their hearts and their drinks high in the air.

  “My Death. My Loyalty. My Honor. For Bedlam. For Brotherhood. For Always!”

  Grim chugs from the bottle while the crowd whistles and cheers. He then raises it again to the picture on the mantle of Belly riding his bike with Marci on the back. “I’ll miss you, Pops. Always fucking will.”

  I’m seeing him for the first time. I’m just a kid, and he’s just a teenager. Lost, scared, confused, unfocused, unloved. But he’s found his people. He’s their leader now, and my heart swells with joy for him. The feeling is profound. Life changing.

  I’m shaking. Yes, Grim has changed. Tristan, the boy I met, wasn’t capable of speech or being touched, never mind love.

  Grim is.

  The thought is both exciting, and absolutely terrifying.

  Twenty-Seven

  The music starts back up. Some people start dancing, including Marci and Sandy. I didn’t know Belly for that long but enough to know this was exactly what he would’ve wanted. A celebration, not a tear-filled sad-fest.

  A man wearing a biker’s cut appears from the back of the room just as Grim has almost reached me through the crowd. “Haven’t seen you in years, brother. Glad to see you can talk now. And here I thought someone cut out your tongue.”

  “Not yet,” Grim says. “Bear, glad you came, brother.” The two men grasp hands in greeting.

  “You know that Belly was important to The Lawless. That man was one of the great ones in my world. I’m honored to have known him.”

  “Me, too,” Grim says with a tight nod.

  “I’m sorry. Where are my manners,” Bear says with a thick southern drawl as he notices me standing quietly to the side. “I’m Bear. Who might you be, darlin’?”

  “She ain’t your darling,” Grim growls.

  Bear rakes a tattooed hand through his blonde hair. “No, she ain’t. Mine’s at home about to pop with baby bear number two.”

  “How is Thia?” Grim asks.

  “Knocked up. Hormonal. Pissed off.” He sighs happily. “And as fucking beautiful as ever.”

  Grim’s hard face softens. “This is Tricks.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, offering him a smile. I never thought a beard and a cut could be considered gorgeous, but mix that with a deep and slow southern accent plus a dazzling kind of charm like you wouldn’t believe, and I could see why a normal woman, someone who isn’t me, would be attracted to him. Bear is devastatingly gorgeous.

  Whoever Thia is, she’s a lucky woman.

  “You too, darlin’,” he says, taking my hand and then pulling me into his hard chest for a quick side-hug. “You take care of this son of a bitch. Someone’s got to.”

  “No, it’s not like that,” I begin to say in a panic.

  Bear’s phone rings, and he answers, holding his index finger up in the air. “I told you not to do that, Preppy.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Why? Because you’re a fucking idiot, that’s why. Ti’s gonna chop off your head, then come for my balls.” He pauses to listen. “Don’t you Care Bear me. I’ll come slit your motherfucking throat right now,” he holds the phone to his chest. “I gotta take this. It’s…my little sister.”

  Bear walks out the front door, and then it’s just me and Grim. All alone in the back of the crowd. Two silent enemies who don’t want to be.

  We aren’t alone for long.

  I step to the side as person after person comes up to Grim to offer their condolences. I need some air, and it’s probably not a good idea for me to look like I’m clinging to Grim in case Marco has any of his spies here tonight.

  I need to get out. I need to think. While Grim is busy with condolences, I slip out the sliding glass doors and walk through the backyard. I don't dare go into Grim's room. I just need to be alone to think, and there's too much of him in there to leave any room for my thoughts. I notice a moonlit footpath that leads into a tangle of woods behind the house. I start down it.

  My heart hurts, and I wish I'd gotten to know Belly a lot better than I have. He was so important to Grim. I think he would’ve ended up being important to me as well.

  I'm surprised when I see a clearing up ahead, but as I get closer I realize it's not a clearing at all. The footpath has led me right back to the marine stadium under the bridge where Grim and I had kissed.

  It’s peaceful. Quiet. Only the occasional wheezing of a small boat engine as it wizzes by. The moon is full and bright, glistening off the dark water. The graffiti on the chairs is less in your face in the shadows. The space seems more tranquil now. I walk down several steps and just stand there looking out in the middle of the bay, hoping that one day soon all this will be over, and there will come a day where I don't have to go back to Marco or to Los Muertos.

  “I thought I might find you here,” a familiar voice says from behind me.

  I swing my head around to find Grim watching me. He’s wearing his leather jacket with the fabric hood pulled over his head just like that night in the alley.

  “I see you don't have any blood on you this time,” I point out.

  He smiles, and it shoots straight through my gut. My whole body tingles with anticipation and built-up energy that is going to detonate if not released.

  “Yeah, no blood. That’s because tonight, I didn't find my missing cat tangled in plastic behind a dumpster, fighting off a rat three times his size. And what did I get for my heroic rescue and rat assassination? Mr. Fuzzy, the ungrateful fuck, clawed at my chest like I’d foiled his plans of trapping the rat himself.”

  “So THAT’S why you were covered in blood that night?” I ask.

  “Yeah, that night, anyway.” Grim’s face turns serious. He looks over me to the bay. “But don't get it twisted, Tricks, I am who I am. They don’t call me The Executioner because I kill rats.”

  “I know,” I say.

  “I think…I think when this is all over, you should get as far away from Lacking as possible and never come back. I’m in charge now. My life is here, but yours doesn’t have to be.”

  “No,” I state, crossing my arms over my chest. “I swear Tristan Paine. If you try to push me away again, I’ll kill you myself.”

  Grim comes down a few steps, meeting me in the middle of the stadium. “Tricks, I’m trying to do the right thing here. Please let me do the right thing for once in my fucking life.”

  “No,” I repeat. “I’m not an idiot. I know who you are, and I know what you do, and I love all of it. All of you. How stubborn you are. How you know me better than anyone else. How you make me feel. How you’ve always made me feel.”

  “I'm not that boy anymore,” Grim says.

  “You keep saying that! But I'm not talking about the boy from back then. I'm talking about you, as a person. That includes the kid who wrote the letters to the girl who stole from him. That includes the man who has been looking for five years. The one who makes me feel like I matter for the first time in my life.”

  “Tricks,” Grim says, but I don’t finish. I can’t. I’m breaking through to him.

  “The only man who has my heart. Who’s HAD
it for over five years. The only person I have ever loved in my entire life.”

  “Tricks, you make doing the right thing really fucking hard right now.”

  “I know, and I don’t care. I love you, Grim. I loved you when you were Tristan, and I love you as Grim. There’s nothing you can say to change that. I won’t let you.” My voice cracks.

  Grim stalks up to me. He growls and lifts me by the waist. He carries me into the shadows of the dome and pushes me against the wall. My legs wrap around him. His fingers travel up my thighs, into my dress, grabbing handfuls of my ass.

  “Say it again,” he demands, his forehead on mine. “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you, Grim.”

  His lips meet mine. We’re desperate for one another. Clawing at each other’s clothes, pressing forcefully against one another. It doesn’t matter how close we get. It’s not close enough. It’ll never be close enough.

  Grim doesn’t say I love you back. Instead, between kisses, he whispers the same oath from the eulogy he gave for Belly, only different. The words flutter against my lips, and slam into my heart.

  “My Life.

  My Death.

  My Loyalty.

  My Honor.

  For You.

  For Us.

  For Always.”

  “You’re mine, Tricks,” he says, pulling back to stare into my eyes.

  “Always have been.”

  He kisses me again. I fumble with his belt. He pushes my hands away to undo it himself. I help him shove his jeans down with my feet. “We don't have a lot of time before people start wondering where we are. I can't be gentle with you.”

  I place my hand on his cheek and pull him closer with my legs. “So, don't be.”

  I don't want gentle. I just want him. Us. Joined together for always, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is short. And if tonight’s all the universe is going to give us, I’m going to take it.

  He rips my panties from my body. I gasp as I feel the soft skin around his hard shaft pressed up against my slick entrance.