Perversion

“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 pats 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.”