Perversion (Page 29)

"As you know, our truce has terms,” I start. “One of those terms is that any new ventures have to be fully disclosed to both the Immortals and Los Muertos.”

Margaret nods from across the table, leaning to the side like the elegant gangster she is.

Marco sits up straight and takes interest. He moves the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other.

“Bedlam will be opening up a strip club-slash-brothel on the reservation. We ain’t gonna be running girls on the street. It’s going to be a somewhat legitimate business venture that won’t interfere with operations from either of your organizations."

“Where you getting the girls?” Margaret asks.

“We’re putting out feelers for those interested who live in the area and want to earn. Marci will be interviewing and running the day-to-day operations. We will only take on girls who don’t have affiliations with either gang or affiliations exclusively with Bedlam.”

Margaret folds her hands on the table. "You know that the Immortals don’t run girls. Not officially, anyway. We like to keep our business to the highways and imports/exports. I got no problem with you opening your place on the res. But I do have a favor to ask in return for The Immortals signing off on this.”

“What do you have in mind?"

Margaret’s gaze meets mine. "I ask that you allow girls with Immortals affiliation to apply for positions. It’s hard for a woman or a single mother in this town to find a job that earns enough to hold down their households and feed their kids these days. If they want to come to you so they can earn to support their families, and they are of age and willing, I’d like you to consider them.”

Margaret’s a fair woman. Having access to girls associated with the Immortals greatly expands our talent pool. Margaret’s offer will mean that we can fill positions quicker and open faster than we thought.

“Done,” I say. “Plus, I’ll give you 10% of whatever your girls make.”

Margaret shakes her head and wags her finger at me. “I’ll take 15% and ask that you do right by them. Any of my girls step out of line, you come to me first.”

“That’s fair,” I say. I look to Marco. "And you?"

Marco leans forward with his elbows on the table. "I don’t give a shit what happens in your territory. Do whatever tickles your dicks.” He glares at me. “But you ain’t taking girls from Los Muertos.”

A vein in his neck pulses, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to reach into my jacket, grab my blade, and slice it the fuck open. But in this situation, I have to remind myself of what Belly would do.

“That’s fair.” I stand to leave. I glance between Margaret and Marco. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Marco sneers. "I don’t want my bitches tainted by Bedlam bullshit. Do you understand me? Steer clear, or you’ll end up with more bullets in your body.”

“Noted,” I say when all I really want to reply with is a knife in his fucking skull.

“My girls are special to me. They’re all off limits to you, but understand I got one that you don’t fuck with. Ever. You don’t talk to. You don’t look in her fucking direction. It’s that fucking simple,” he threatens with a sneer.

I slap the table. “Marco, you sly dog. Did you go out and get yourself an old lady?” I ask sarcastically. "You can threaten me all you want. Your jealousy for someone I’ve never met is fucking adorable.”

“Blanquita, get in here!” Marco shouts without taking his eyes off mine. “I want you to meet her so you know who to stay clear of.”

Margaret’s eyes grow wide, and she cringes like she knows what’s coming.

The door slowly creaks open. My legs grow weak, and my blood runs cold as a girl steps into the room with her eyes down to the floor. I immediately feel the need to sit or lie the fuck down, or better yet, shoot bullets into Marco’s head one after the other until there’s nothing left of it.

“I want you to meet my future queen,” he announces victoriously. Marco’s trying to gauge my expression, which I keep wiped from my face although my insides feel like they’re being beaten with a sledgehammer.

Why? Because the sad-looking girl who walks through the door, sits on Marco’s lap, and allows Marco to kiss her on the cheek all the while avoiding eye contact with me, is none other than Emma Jean Parish.

Tricks.

MY Tricks.

Nineteen

“Get a fucking hold of yourself, man!” Sandy’s standing next to me in the garage. As I take weapons from my duffle bag to load them, he’s shoving them back in. “I’m all for a fucking shoot out, but this ain’t just about you. You got other people to worry about.”

“The only thing I’m worried about is killing Marco,” I grate.

Haze comes into the garage. “It’s Tricks,” Sandy begins to tell him, and I think I’m going to be sick before he’s even said the words out loud. “She’s with Marco.”

“Holy fucking shit. How did—never mind.” He shakes his head. “What do we gotta do?” He comes up to the table and eyes the weapons. “You gonna kill Marco or Tricks?”

“I haven’t decided,” I say, knowing that’s bullshit. “I gotta…I just…FUUUUCCCKKKKK!” I roar, throwing a handgun at the wall.

“Grim, no matter who you kill, it ain’t gonna make that feeling go away. Trust me on this one,” he says, his words heavy with regret.

Haze and Sandy remain calm. “How about we kill later and get fucked up now?” Haze suggests. “Might take the edge off.”

Several hours have passed and I’ve drank enough whiskey and smoked enough weed to render me stupid. Yet the murderous feeling lingers even through the haze. Tricks is one of them. She’s with him. When she told me I was the only man she’d ever kissed, it was another fucking lie I fell for.

Along with the fucking rest of it.

I once told Tricks in one of my letters that I don’t really get sad. I guess that was a lie, too. What I’m feeling now is deeper than sadness. It’s more like rage and despair are hate-fucking in my heart. And Sandy’s right. No matter who I kill, it’s not going to go away.

I’m still not sure I believe him.

Distraction isn’t working well for me, either. I’m on my back on my bed. Two naked girls are kissing one another over me. I have no idea how they got here. They rub each other’s tits and finger each other’s pussies, but I don’t feel anything that stirs my dick even the slightest.

It’s probably just all the weed I smoked.

Or because the girl who once shattered through my barriers has broken me in a different way, pulverizing a heart I didn’t even know I had.

The window slides open, and the last person in the world I want to see leaps into the room. She pulls a gun from her backpack and aims at the two girls on my bed.

“Get the fuck out,” she demands in a calm, confident voice. If I didn’t hate her so much, I’d almost be proud of the way she’s handling herself.

But I do. So, I’m not.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s still hazy. The girls scramble for their clothes and dart out the door.

I sit up. Tricks approaches the bed, setting the gun in her pocket.

“Nice gun,” I say sarcastically.

“Thanks, I borrowed it. Without asking.”

“You should go bring it back to whoever you stole it from before I get mine. If I can find where Sandy and Haze hid them…”