Perversion (Perversion Trilogy Book 1) Page 5

  “Leo, show them up. That’s ALL,” Mal said, stressing the word all. “¿Me estás entendiendo?” He tapped his index finger against his temple.

  I didn’t know a ton of Spanish, but I didn’t need a translation to understand what he’s saying.

  Or warning.

  Leo nodded. “Follow me,” she said, leading the way down the path. Gabby and I followed, the man with the guns on a few steps behind us.

  Although the place appeared abandoned at first glance, it wasn’t anywhere near empty. Onlookers peered down curiously at the new arrivals from balconies, doorways, and through the bars covering the windows.

  Leo took us to a building in the back of the complex, up three flights of stairs to the top floor. She unlocked one of the apartment doors with a key from her bra and ushered us inside. It wasn’t until the door shut that she spoke.

  “Just some advice, don’t ever talk outside. Someone is always listening,” she whispered.

  She glanced around the room then jogged over to the broken living room window and closed the sheer curtains. She did the same for the little window above the kitchen sink.

  It smelled like mildew in the tiny apartment, and everything was coated in a thick layer of dust.

  “Am I the only one wondering what the hell is going on right now?” I asked, setting my backpack down on the floor.

  Leo didn’t answer. She was already down the hall, flitting from room to room, shutting curtains and closing doors.

  “Gabby?” I asked, since Leo didn’t seem to be great with the question thing at this point.

  “I’m as clueless as you are,” Gabby answered, spinning around in a circle, taking in our new surroundings.

  “Are you going to tell us WHY it’s not safe?” I asked Leo.

  “Because it’s just not,” she replied, emerging from the hallway. “This is your apartment. The bedroom is in the back. Bathroom in the hallway. The refrigerator doesn’t work and neither does the stove. Make sure you flush the toilet twice because, trust me, the first one won’t do the job.”

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Gabby asked, dropping her bag from one shoulder.

  She sighed. “Unfortunately, you’ll find out soon enough.”

  The pit in my stomach grew much larger at those words, and I knew she saw the terror written all over my face.

  Leo looked between me and Gabby like she was considering something. “Fine,” she grunted. “Come here.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s only fair to warn you.” She blew out a breath. “God knows I wish someone would have warned me.”

  She led us into the bedroom where there was only one twin bed with a thin mattress and worn blanket. No pillow. Aunt Ruby’s house started to look more and more luxurious by the minute, but I had a feeling that our accommodations weren’t going to be our biggest problem here.

  “So, this is where Marco lives?” Gabby asked.

  Leo grunted. “No, he lives in the main building. It’s just the two of you in this apartment.”

  She opened the nightstand and pulled out a bible. She uncapped a lipstick from her back pocket and opened the book to the back page. She started drawing what looked like a map.

  “Here, in the center—” She drew a big circle. “—is the Indian reservation. In the middle of that is the casino. Right outside the walls is where mostly migrant workers live in dilapidated shacks and tents made from tarps. The casino built a wall around the place to keep the blue hairs and suits from having to gaze upon the poor while they spend thousands of dollars on what amounts to video games,” she said bitterly. “The casino is Bedlam territory. They run security for the chief and for the casino itself. They also move weapons and blow. Their territory extends through here.”

  She drew a line through the center of town. She then circled the outskirts of town on the east side.

  “This is Immortal Kings territory. They stick mostly to the highways and the beaches.” She slashed a big line across the last portion of town not yet marked up. “Here is where we are.” She then sketched a few squares that I assumed were supposed to represent the complex we were standing in and circled a large area around it. “All of this is Los Muertos territory, who mostly…” She paused. “Marco mostly just does whatever the fuck he wants. Whatever you do, stay inside Los Muertos territory. It’s not a suggestion. It’s a rule. You’re one of us now. It’s not safe for you anywhere else. We can’t go there, and Bedlam and Immortals can’t come here. The park in the middle of town is the only neutral territory.” She sighed and looked to the ceiling as if she was remembering something fondly. “It wasn’t always like this, you know. Things were different when your papa was in charge.”

  Gabby’s head snapped up. “Papa was…”

  “Yeah,” Leo confirmed. “He was the head of Los Muertos until he got locked up for life. Then, Marco took over when he came of age. Things were more relaxed for a little while.” She frowned and shook off whatever she was thinking. “But Marco’s out now. And he’s the one in charge.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, feeling confused and frustrated. “Bedlam? Los Muertos? Immortal Kings? What kind of town is this?”

  Leo pointed down to her drawing. “This is the town of Lacking, and these—” She stabbed the drawing with her lipstick, smashing what’s left of the tube into the page. She, then, pointed out window down to the men with guns walking below. “—and those are the gangs who run it.”

  Gabby dropped the bible onto the floor, sending a poof of dust from the stained carpet into the air. Leo quickly picked it up and shut it just as Marco walks through the front door.

  “What’s going on in here?” Marco asked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “I told you to bring them up here, not to host a welcome home party.”

  He glanced to the bible on the floor. Leo hung her head. I’m wasn’t sure what she did to piss him off, but she was clearly in trouble.

  I picked up the bible and clutched it to my chest. “We were praying. Thanking God and Jesus for our new circumstances and for this great new apartment.” I smiled, the lie flowing easily from my lips.

  “Ahhhh,” he said with an amused smile. I was a great liar, but he wasn’t buying it. He walked around Leo so that her back was to his front. “Into prayer now, are we, Leo? I tell you what. Why don’t you go to my office and wait for me on your knees? When I get back, we can pray together.”

  Leo kept her eyes to the floor as she hurried out of the apartment.

  “Now.” Marco rubbed his hands together. “It’s time to learn what’s expected of you.”

  “Expected?” Gabby asked.

  He gestured to the bed and the walls of the room. “You didn’t think all this luxury was for free, hermanita?”

  “I-I-I…” Gabby stuttered, shaking her head. “I didn’t really think anything.”

  “You’re in my house now. My town. You’re going to have to earn your keep just like everyone else,” Marco told us, plucking the bible from my hands and tossing it onto the bed.

  “How?” I asked. “We’re kids.” A terrified feeling ran through me like static electricity on the back of my heels or a thousand fleas biting at me all at once.

  It was probably the fleas.

  Marco shrugged. “You’re not kids anymore. And I don’t give a fuck HOW you earn. But I tell you what, since you’re both new here, we’ll start small. One thousand.”

  “How are we going to come up with a thousand dollars a month? And what about school?”

  “School?” Marco laughed. “You don’t need no school. That’s for yuppies and polo wearing shitheads who grow up to hate life and fuck their fat secretaries.” He folded one arm over his chest and rested his chin on his fist. “Life is your education. That’s a thousand dollars a week, not a month. Leo can give you a few pointers on how it’s done. Your youth will earn what your inexperience won’t. But don’t worry, you’ll catch on soon enough.”

  His meaning clicked. I immediately felt sick.

&n
bsp; “You want us to…” Gabby started, echoing my own thoughts. “No!”

  “What do you mean, no?” Marco snarled.

  “There’s another way,” I blurted with all the confidence I could muster. “We’ll get your money for you, but we’re not doing…that.”

  “Another way to earn a thousand each without doing it on your backs?” Marco asked with an amused glint in his eyes. He stalked over to me, breathing in my face. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

  “I’ve got other talents,” I assured him.

  Marco laughed. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  “Pick-pocketing,” I said with a shrug.

  “Pick-pocketing? I’ve read your file from CPS. I know what you’ve been up to, and you’ve been caught.” He shook his head slowly. “Petty theft ain’t gonna earn you the kind of scratch to keep you off the streets. Try again.”

  I stuck out my chest. “You’re underestimating how good I am.”

  “There’s no way you’re that good.” Marco walked to the other side of the room, and by the time he turned around, I had my hand out, holding his wallet. His eyes widened with surprise as he snatched it from my hand. “Impressive, I’ll give you that. Wallets are one thing, but there’s no way you can lift anything of value just as easy.”

  I took my hand out from behind my back.

  The one holding his gun.

  Marco growled, snatching it from my hands, tucking it into his waistband. He muttered something in Spanish I couldn’t understand.

  “We’ll get it for you. We can do it this way. More even,” I said, since Gabby was still frozen with her mouth hanging open in shock and fear. Her temporary joy of us being together and moving in with her brother had just been smashed to pieces, and I could feel her breaking all the way from the other side of the room.

  My words were saying that we would do whatever he wanted, but what I was really thinking was how we were going to get the hell out of here and head for the nearest bus station the second he left this room.

  “Fine. Your way. For now,” Marco said, crowding me until he pushed me up against the wall. He trailed his fingers down my jaw.

  I did my best not to flinch. Or blink. Or anything that would give him reason to think I was weak. Assholes like him prayed on the weak, and I refused to be a lamb when I was a wolf in preteen clothing.

  “You should know,” he all but growled in my face. “I’m doing you a favor, here. All of the other unattached girls are fair game to any member who wants a go at her. But you two? You’re fucking royalty. Get me my money, and you’ll both get to keep your legs closed…for now.”

  “And when we turn eighteen? Then, we can go?” Gabby asked hopefully.

  Marco’s laugh boomed out so loud, I jumped back involuntarily. “Los Muertos is for life. You don’t get to leave at eighteen.” His face hardened. “You don’t get to leave EVER.”

  The instant the words were out of his mouth, I pushed the fear aside and started forming our escape plan.

  Marco looked at me knowingly. “And don’t even think about calling your case worker. She’s been paid enough not to care. Or the police. I own those bitches, too. If you try to run, you will be found. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, and if you run, you ain’t family no more. You’re deserters. You’re traitors. And traitors don’t get to keep their privileges.” He leaned in and whispered his next warning against my ear, “You run, and you’ll both be fucking a dozen dicks a night out on the street, but not before each and every one of my boys has broken you in first.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Gabby asked, her voice shaky. Her eyes were red and rimmed with tears. “I thought…I thought you wanted us here.”

  “Doing what?” Marco snapped. “I brought you home, Gabriella. Is it so much to ask that you contribute to your own family?” Marco asked, like we were the crazy ones threatening to prostitute minors. “Is it?” he asked, roughly grabbing Gabby’s chin and forcing her to look up at him. “Now say, thank you, Marco.”

  “Thank you, Marco,” Gabby whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “We won’t run. We will do what you ask,” I said with determination.

  For now.

  He released her, paced a few steps back and steepled his hands. “You see, I knew I did the right thing. This is why I chose you two and not Mona. I read her file. She’s got all the brains and no balls. She’s not meant for this life. But you two,” he chuckled. “I knew you two had what it takes to make me proud. That’s why I brought you here. Well, it’s one of the reasons.” He headed for the door. “You can come and go as you please as long as you make your quotas. Stay out of Immortals’ territory, and if I find out you even put a toe into Bedlam, I’ll…” He clenched his fist and collected himself. “First payment is due this Monday and every Monday after that.”

  It was Thursday afternoon. He wanted a thousand dollars from two twelve-year-old girls…in less than four days.

  Marco paused at the door. “Welcome to the family, blanquita!” He shouted as he left. The echo of his wicked laughter lingered long after the slam of the door.

  I fell onto the bed next to Gabby, feeling like I’d just been in a car accident. Tense, sore, aching, dizzy.

  “Welcome fucking home!” Marco shouted again. His voice booming through the open window from the floor below was like a shock to the spine, sending Gabby and me jumping into each other’s arms.

  Our worlds had been torn apart and put back together and torn apart again over the course of one very confusing day. My mind raced with a million possible solutions, but each one was met with the same result.

  There was no escape.

  My locket pressed between Gabby and me. I held on tightly to my only two sources of comfort in the world.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Sorry? This isn’t your fault. This is no one’s fault.”

  We stopped talking, neither of us knowing what to say. The silence lasted for hours. We didn’t so much as dare to exhale until long after the sun faded from the sky.

  When we did finally exhale, it was only to cry, sobbing into one another’s arms on a twin-sized bed long into the night. The same as we did not twenty-four hours ago.

  Although, for much different reasons.

  Marco was wrong about there being no way to escape. He had to be. I’d find away.

  But he was right about one thing.

  We weren’t kids anymore.

  Tricks,

  WHO THE FUCK IS YELLING AT YOU AND CALLING YOU NAMES? Aunt Ruby? Does she hit you? Because if she or anyone else lays a single fucking hand on you…

  I talked to Marci and Belly, the couple who took me in. They said they’d contact CPS about taking you, too. You can’t stay in that place and worry about Aunt Ruby and strange men treating you like shit. I don’t really do happy, but right now I’m fucking pissed as all hell.

  I put my address at the bottom of this letter so we don’t have to go through CPS anymore. Give me yours, too. I got a cell phone now. I’ll put that on here, too. Call me if you need anything or if you’re in trouble or just need to talk. The conversation might be one-sided, but I guess that makes me a good listener. I can even take Marci’s car to come get you, but I’m gonna get you out, Tricks.

  If it’s the last thing I do.

  -G

  PS-They call me Grim now.

  Tricks,

  You didn’t reply to my last letter. And then I realized why when it came back to me in the mail. You never got it. When Marci called CPS, they said your file has been sealed and you’ve been moved, but they can’t tell us where. They said they can’t send or receive mail for you either, so I don’t even know why I’m writing this letter. I did manage to track down shitty Aunt Ruby, but she was drunk or high on something and barely knew her own name never mind where you went. She said to your brother Mark’s house, but you never mentioned a brother, and I can’t find anything on him. Gabby’s records are
also sealed, so I can’t find out where she is either. I’m hoping that maybe you’re with her and that you’re happier wherever you are. But none of this makes any sense. You just disappeared.

  Where are you, Tricks?

  -G

  PS-Marci keyed Ruby’s car on the way out. The bitch deserved that and more.

  Five Years Later...

  THE PRESENT

  Six

  Tricks is gone.

  Tristan Paine is dead.

  I slip my phone into my pocket, having finished my daily Google search for Emma Jean Parish, with the same results that have shown up for over five years now.

  Not a damn thing.

  “You done swiping right on some hot cock so we can play now?” Haze goads, downing a shot of whiskey. He flips his black baseball cap to the back and racks the balls.

  “Don’t be jealous, you homophobe. Besides, I was swiping right for you. Don’t worry. I gave him your number,” I reply with a wink. My cigarette hangs from my lips as I take my shot. Two balls bounce off each other and roll right into their intended pockets.

  “Fuck off,” Haze barks with a laugh. “I’m confident in my heterosexuality, and for the record, I could probably pull a much hotter guy than you. If I wanted to. But if you decide you want to start crossing swords with dudes, you should know, I’m not a homophobe, and as your brother, I fully support you,” he says, placing his hand over his heart.

  “Good to know, fucker,” I mutter with a laugh.

  “He was looking for HER again,” Sandy explains, taking a sip of his beer.

  “Anything?” Haze asks, raising his eyebrows.

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “Fuck, how long have you been looking for her now? Like three years?” Haze asks.

  “Four,” Sandy replies.

  “Five,” I correct.

  I don’t want to talk about Tricks. I already spend too much time thinking about her. More so now than when she first disappeared. I especially don’t want to talk about her tonight because I’m feeling restless. My knuckles are aching for action. The truce has toned down the violence in Lacking, but it hasn’t lessened the need for it.