Possession

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Possession Page 10

by T. M. Frazier


  Margaret shakes her head. “This has been coming a long time. Marco wants to take down Bedlam.” She looks to Grim. “And I don’t think it’s just because he’s obsessed with blondie over here. He’s gone through too much trouble for it just to be about her.” She swings back to me just long enough to say. “No offense.” She taps her finger on her glass. “He wants something else.” She pours herself another drink.

  “Then why play along and sign off on the truce?” Chief David asks.

  She clucks her tongue. “No fucking clue. But there’s a bigger reason Marco started all this shit.”

  Grim growls. “And Bedlam will finish it.”

  Margaret adjusts her dress over her legs and while doing so I catch a glimpse of the gun strapped to her thigh. “Grim, don’t get me wrong, I dig your whole I gotta handle my own vibe, you’ve got going on, but you’re not in this one alone. Marco’s bullshit affects all of us. The Immortal Kings are with you. We’re stronger together.”

  The corner of grim’s mouth tugs into a crooked smile. “You take a vote on that?”

  A burst of laughter escapes Margaret. “Please, I invented the word dictator. Votes are for people who care about the opinions of others. I only care about my family, my men, and my business. I’ll do what it takes to make sure all three stay intact.”

  “Thank you.” Grim tips his chin and raises his glass to Margaret.

  “Wait,” Chief David says, producing two more glasses. He fills one to the brim and pours just a splash in the other. He hands that one to me. This time, I don’t refuse. The chief and I join them in raising our glasses.

  “If we can’t stop it, we might as well toast to it,” Margaret says, straightening her shoulders. “To war. To peace. To prosperity. To death. To life.”

  We all clink glasses together and drink. I swallow mine in one gulp. It burns my mouth and my throat, continuing to burn all the way down to my stomach where a lingering sense of foreboding and dread simmers.

  “What if he comes here?” I ask, holding my glass in my lap. “I know you said he won’t, but how do you know for sure?”

  “They won’t. I promise. Not just because he knows better than to come on the reservation, but because he’s short on manpower. He’ll need time to recover before even thinking about retaliation.”

  “Short on manpower?” I ask. “How?”

  “The night we came for you.” Grim smiles into his glass at the memory. “Let’s just say that Bedlam greatly reduced his staff.”

  The Chief scowls. “None of those Los Muertos fools are welcome on our lands. If he so much as steps one foot on a single blade of our grass or kicks a single rock belonging to our people, he and his men know full well that they are then subject to tribal laws. And our people have invented much more creative ways of carrying out the death penalty than the outside world. Plus, we don’t have that pesky trial by jury thing to stand between them and their imminent demise. They’d be more than stupid to try and come here, unless they want to die a slow, torturous death. I can think of at least a dozen fun ways right off the top of my head.” He leans back in his chair, pondering. “By way of fire ants over the course of several days. Neck deep in a snake pit, perhaps. Or maybe, by organ donation…while he’s still very much alive.”

  “That is creative,” I agree, both disgusted at the thought of the acts themselves and thrilled at the thought of Marco being subjected to them. “But, he deserves worse.”

  “Agreed,” both the chief and Margaret say in unison. Grim’s posture stiffens.

  I’m curious as to what particular reason the Chief has to hate Marco, but from his deep breathy sigh, and the sadness clouding his eyes, I decide it’s best not to ask.

  Margaret sees the curiosity written all over my face. “The Chief and Marco’s old man had a falling out years ago,” she explains, covering his hand with her own.

  The Chief drains his glass and turns it around again in his hands, staring into the emptiness. “Only if you call killing my woman and kid a falling out.”

  Eighteen

  We leave Chief David’s office with a promise to meet him and some of the other tribal council members for a cleansing ritual where he’ll call on his ancestors to watch over us and guide us from harm.

  “You agreed really quickly to the ritual,” I say. “Do you believe in that kind of stuff? Rituals? Spirits?”

  Grim picks at a blade of grass. “No, but in the tribe, it’s a sign of disrespect to decline a ritual offer. Especially one offered by a council member.”

  “What did Chief David mean back there? About his family? His woman and kid?” I ask Grim as he leads me through a vast field full of purple flowers.

  “The Chief had an affair with Fernando’s ole’ lady.”

  “Marco and Gabby’s mother?” I ask, scrunching my nose.

  Grim shakes his head. “She was Gabby’s mom, but not Marco’s. Anyway, the Chief and Camila met and had an affair. She got pregnant. When Fernando found out the kid she was carrying wasn’t his, she tried to flee, but Fernando caught up to her …” He trails off. “The Chief never heard from her again.”

  “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. It isn’t a quote, but it’s an expression, and it sure as hell fits,” I say. “I don’t think Gabby knows this story.” I step over a log. “I’ve never heard anyone at the compound talk much about her father, nothing serious anyway, but then again, I stayed away from any hushed conversations or whispered words. I figured the less I knew the less of a liability I was.”

  “My smart girl.” Grim beams with pride that shoots straight into my chest. He squeezes my hand, sending a bolt of electricity through my arm. My entire body comes alive with the delicious hum of our connection as we continue to walk through beautiful green fields of tall grass. “Besides, why would Gabby know? Fernando was put away not long after Camila’s death for a series of other shit that had nothing to do with him killing her. I assume that’s how she ended up in foster care with you.”

  “He’s dead now, right? He died in prison?” I ask, recalling what Leo told Gabby and me the first day we were brought to the compound.

  “Yeah, he is.”

  “One thing is for sure: I hate Marco’s father almost as much as I hate Marco. Fernando never once tried to contact Gabby throughout the years, and to top it all off, he’d killed her mother for the simple fact that she was trying to escape the hell of living among Los Muertos.”

  Grim and I sit in the grass on a small hill overlooking a vast lake surrounded by acres of nothing but tall grass and the occasional wandering cow or goat. I take a deep breath and let it all out in a long exhale. “Grim, there are things I need to tell you.”

  “I know,” he says. “But nothing you can tell me will change anything between us. You’ve got to know that.” He takes my hand firmly in his. Our connection puts me at ease but only slightly. “You’ve got to know that.”

  I nod and feel my chest tighten. I do know that he means what he says, but people can’t help how they feel or prevent things from changing just because they will them not to.

  We sit in silence for a few moments while I gather my courage. Grim doesn’t pry or rush me. He sits patiently, softly stroking my back with his fingertips.

  “He…” I start before stopping again to close my eyes and take a deep breath. After a few seconds, I try again. “After Marco took me back to the compound, he…hurt me. Raped me.” Grim’s fingers stop the mindless circling on my back. He stiffens. “I was tied in this dark room, and all I thought about was saving Gabby and you before Marco could hurt either of you.” Tears prick my eyes.

  “It’s okay,” Grim soothes, pulling me into the crook of his arm, setting his chin on top of my head.

  When I speak again, I keep my eyes on the lake and pretend it’s the water to whom I’m telling my story.

  “There was a girl there, helping Marco torture me. I heard them talking about the real reason I was there, but I never heard them actually say what that
reason was. You know what one of the worst parts of being there was? Almost worse than what Marco did to me? Was when I found out the girl was Gabby’s sister, Mona. Someone I’d grown up with. Trusted.”

  “Mona,” Grim repeats. “That must have been who I saw. She was feeding me false info, telling me you were okay when you weren’t. She looks a lot like Gabby, right?”

  “A little, although now that I know what she’s become she’s practically unrecognizable.” I nuzzle farther into Grim’s body. “I think she’s been hurt all of these years that Gabby and I have always been close. Maybe, she felt like I stole her rightful place in Gabby’s life.”

  “That’s on her. Not you,” Grim reassures me, kissing the top of my head.

  “I’m worried about Gabby,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. “I don’t know what they’ll do to her.”

  Grim holds me tighter. “I promise. We’ll get her out. Bethany, my lawyer, has been in touch with Gabby. Sandy’s working with Bethany on a way to extract her safely. You heard him, he’s trying to get more intel as we speak.”

  A small wave of relief washes over me. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Tricks. I’d do anything for you. You should know that by now.”

  “There’s more I have to tell you.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath and then I let the words flow. I explain to Grim how I lured Mona into trusting me and all the sordid details leading up to my attempted escape and subsequent rescue. When I’m done, Grim is silent. Too silent.

  I sit up and look over at him expecting to find him either red with rage or horrified, but I find neither of those things. What I do find is the most beautiful man in the world…smiling at me.

  “Why are you smiling? Did you not hear all the shit I just told you?” I ask, scrunching my face in confusion.

  “I did. I heard every single fucking word,” he says, holding my face in his hands and staring deep into my eyes. “Do you know what else I heard?”

  I shake my head, which he’s still holding.

  He leans in closer. “Between those words, I heard how brave my girl was. How strong. How she faced death and gave it the fucking finger. How she could have folded but chose to fight instead. How she passed a lie detector test out of sheer fucking determination and out of this world skill. How she convinced one of the people holding her captive that she was interested in her, and not only that, was so believable she was able to not only free herself but tie the bitch up before she even figured out what was happening.”

  He stares pride straight into my eyes until I begin to feel it, too.

  “Tricks, I’m in awe of you. You’re amazing You…you’re fucking magic.” Grim leans in and kisses me, hard. He assaults my mouth with all of the passion and pride that he’s feeling. My entire body feels the kiss. My heart feels this kiss. The current between us does more than hum. It strikes all around us with the force of a thousand lightning bolts.

  “I need you,” I say around his mouth, but Grim knows this. His hands skate up my leg and my inner thigh until his fingers disappear under my shorts. I come alive under his touch. When his fingers reach the wetness between my legs, he groans. It’s as if I’m floating, tethered to the ground only by Grim. Although, he’s wrong. I’m not magic. He is. This thing between us. That’s the real magic.

  And it’s no fucking trick.

  Nineteen

  Emma Jean

  “When this is all over and you come back to me, I’m going to make all this right again. I promise,” Grim says, while his fingers stroke my wet slit sending bursts of need prickle at my skin and harden my nipples.

  Wait, what did he just say?

  When this is all over and you come back to me.

  I freeze then push his hand away and stand, glaring down at him with my hands on my hips. “What does that mean?” tapping my foot on the ground. “When I come back to you? Where exactly am I going?”

  Grim blows out a breath and runs his hands through his hair. “You don’t really expect me to keep you here while all this shit’s going down? While the task force, the Irish, and all of Los Muertos are out for blood? It’s not fucking safe.”

  I huff. “I’ve never been safe in my entire life. Nothing’s changed except you wanting to send me away.”

  “Oh no? I’ll tell you what’s changed.” Grim furrows his brow. His forehead creases where it was smooth just a moment before. He stands and I take a step back. He stalks over to me, closing the space between us. His jaw is clenched tight. He points to himself and then to me. “What’s changed is this. You and me. I’m going to fucking protect you, whether you like it or not. I should’ve never let you go back to that motherfucker, no matter what your reasons were, no matter how much you wanted to save your friend and prevent a war. None of that matters, not when it comes to you. I’d let everyone on this earth die before I’d let anyone hurt you again. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again,” he growls so deep I feel it in my chest. “I failed you before, Tricks. I won’t fucking fail you again.”

  The hurt in his voice cracks through my anger, but it isn’t enough to make me drop my case. I won’t be sent away. “You yourself said it was safe here on the reservation.”

  “It is for now. But, what happens after Marco has time to rally his men and come for you? When war breaks out? What happens when the Irish get wind that the H Bedlam was arrested for was from their stolen shipment? What about when the task force decides to play whatever shady card they have up their sleeves and they lock me back up before I have time to prove I’m innocent?”

  I raise an eyebrow at him and he chuckles. “You know what I mean.”

  “If that happens we will deal with it. Together.”

  “It’s not a matter of IF. It’s a matter of WHEN. That’s how this works. It’s how it always works. I’ll need you as far away from all of this as possible, so none of this shit blows back on you. I won't let it happen. Not now.” A vein in Grim's neck pulses, giving the black rose tattoo at the base of his throat the appearance of its very own heartbeat. “Not ever!”

  I’m frustrated with his answer but I won’t accept defeat. I square my shoulders. “No."

  His jaw tightens. "Nooo?" He draws out the word slowly as if he can't believe what I just said, sucking in his bottom lip as if he can taste the bitterness of my defiance.

  "Grim, for so long, I've had to rely on my instincts. On myself," I explain. “It’s been Gabby and me against the world since we were kids. Without her...I can't be alone anymore. I just can't." I meet his angry gaze. "I won't!"

  "You won't," he repeats, cocking his head to the side.

  I steel my nerves and continue. "Don't you see? I’d rather be unsafe with you than safe without you.”

  Grim's response is unapologetic. “You won’t be alone. I’m sending Marci with you."

  “It’s not the same!” I scream, shoving against his chest. "You don't understand!"

  "Stop telling me that I don't understand." He grabs my wrists. “You're the one who's not fucking understanding. You're not alone, Tricks. Not anymore. And you'll never be alone again. You have Bedlam behind you. You have me. You'll always have me." He lowers his voice. "We can make future decisions together.”

  I raise my chin. "But not this one?"

  "But not this one," he repeats.

  I begin to walk away only to have Grim pull me back. "Let me go!" I yank on my wrists, but he doesn't release me.

  "No." he growls. "I'm not letting you go. Just because I'm sending you away doesn't mean I'm letting you go then either."

  "Then what does it mean?" I ask, my pulse races under his grip.

  "It means I would fucking die than let anyone hurt you ever again.”

  The fight in me falters when I realize the real reason for Grim wanting to send me away. It isn’t just because he wants to keep me safe.

  “If you think that sending me off to god only knows where will absolve you of whatever misplaced guilt you feel over what happened to me, you're wrong. I m
ade the choice to go back to Los Muertos. I don't regret it. It was the right choice, and I'd do it again. If anyone is to blame here, it's me." I shove against him like I'm trying to push the words into his skin and make him understand.

  Grim releases me. “But I allowed it!” he roars with his chin tipped, screaming at the sky.

  Or himself.

  “You allowed it?” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to hold in the anger coursing within my body. His gaze dips to my breasts, now prominently pushed up on display. An awareness prickles at my skin, but the need to make him understand outweighs everything else. “I may have lived under another person’s rules, but I’ve always made my own decisions. Even if they were the wrong ones, they were still mine to make. And right here, right now, I’m telling you." I poke my finger into his chest. "I’m staying.”

  We're both breathing heavy and hard. There's so much on the line, so much between us. Fear. Love. Anger. And more.

  So much more.

  It floats through the air between us, licking at my skin, causing my throat to go dry, my nipples to harden, and my thighs to tremble.

  Lust.

  Pure. Unbridled. Animalistic.

  Grim's eyes darken.

  I need to put some space between us. I take a few steps back.

  A slow smile tugs at the corners of Grim's mouth. Devilish determination burns in his gaze.

  He lunges for me.

  Fast.

  So fast that I don’t have time to react. I leap away and lose my footing, stumbling over a rock in the grass. I'm falling, but before I hit the ground, Grim catches me, lifting me to my feet. He wraps his strong arms around my waist and tugs me against his warm hard body.

  Awareness consumes me. Grim consumes me. My thoughts. My body.

  My heart.

  Grim stares down, his focus solely on my lips.

  "I'm serious. I'm not going anywhere," I say breathlessly.

  His grip on my waist tightens. He crushes his lips to mine in an all-consuming, dizzying kiss that has me questioning the validity of my argument, as well as my own damn name.

 

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