Perversion (Perversion Trilogy #1)

“There you are,” I say, reaching out to touch the mirror.

I open my notebook to retrieve the bus tickets. They aren’t stuffed between the pages where I left them. I check again. They’re still not there. The last time I saw them was at the park. I dropped the notebook when Memo threatened me. I managed to shove it back into my bag before the bullets rang out and Grim carried me off but…Memo.

Leo bursts through the door with a wild look on her face. “Marco wants you to come down to the courtyard. He has a…surprise for you.” She can’t even look me in the eye.

Marco has a surprise for me.

Dread immediately fills my entire being.

I want to run and hide, but there’s no hiding when it comes to Marco. I nod, and she leads me out into the courtyard where Marco is waiting, surrounded by angry, tattooed girls and women I recognize as other members of Los Muertos.

“I like the new look,” Marco says. “Missed that crazy hair of yours.”

“What’s all this?” I ask, but I already know. I’ve seen it before from my window.

“This is where you prove your fucking loyalty like you should have done years ago,” Marco says, roughly grabbing my arm.

“Why?” I ask, “I’ve been loyal. I’ve—" Marco’s shuts me up by holding up a pair of bus tickets.

MY bus tickets.

Shit.

Memo chuckles from behind Marco and blows me a kiss.

“I was going to make you my queen, and THIS is how you repay me?” Marco asks loudly for all to hear, his chest rising and falling with his anger. “But don’t worry. You’ll still get a chance to be my queen. IF you survive your initiation.” He lowers his voice; pulling me close he whispers in my ear. “You were in the palace, bitch. Welcome to gen-pop.”

He shoves me into the circle. I stumble and hunch my shoulders, trying to make myself as invisible as possible, but it’s no use.

The first girl comes at me, and I manage to block a few of her blows and deliver a few of my own. Marco is cheering with his soldiers from the sidelines. Their laughter piercing through the circle like an arrow. I can fight them off one by one without problem. I’m strong, athletic, and I’ve been in a scrap or two.

But there’s no way I can win when the group crowds me in on all sides. I raise my arms to cover my face as they begin brutally beating me. One blow after another until a faint whistle enters my blood-filled ears. The crowd parts, and Marco picks me up by what’s left of my shirt.

“Go get the next one,” he barks to someone.

“No, not Gabby. No,” I rasp as blood trickles from my lip.

“Awe, that’s so sweet that you’re worried about her, Blanquita. But naw, she gets special exception because she’s blood. Family. You got special exception, too. Then, you went and fucked it all up by lying to me. Time to show me some loyalty, bitch. Now, let’s see how you handle your walk of shame.”

I would’ve laughed if I was capable or if I didn’t fear Marco’s retaliation.

I’m dizzier than I’ve ever been as I’m placed in the open bed of a truck. Marco barks orders in Spanish to whoever is driving to take me to the devil’s den.

Then, we’re off. Every bump in the road is another punch to my ribcage as I collide with the ribbed metal of the truck bed. When we finally stop, it’s like I’ve been beaten all over again.

I’m unceremoniously lifted and dumped out onto a concrete sidewalk by a man I recognize as Gil. “If you survive the night and find your way back to the compound by morning, Marco won’t kill you. If you die out here…well, then you die.” Gil laughs, amused by his own sick joke. “Oh, and I almost forgot. Marco wants me to remind you that if you so much as think of running, Gabby will go through the same initiation with three times as many against her. And if they don’t kill her, he will.”

He reaches into his back pocket and takes out a can of spray paint, but it’s not the walls he tags. It’s me. I cough through the fumes as he covers me in yellow paint, spraying me from head to toe.

The truck takes off, and I’m left lying on the side of some building. I hear the faint sounds of a buzzing street light. I look up and see nothing but darkness. Either the street light isn’t working, or I’m high from the paint fumes.

Or both.

Marco is a sociopath. A thug to his very core and not in the cool political way Tupac defined the word. Because I’m delirious, I hear the faint sounds of Tupac’s “Gangsta Party” playing in the distance. Or in my head. I hum along until the landscape around me grows from fuzzy to only sort of fuzzy, and I try to figure out where the hell I am.

I prop myself up slowly feeling the pain of my beating all over again as I try and do so. I look down and realize beside the paint, I’m almost naked.

My shirt is torn to shreds, and since I’m not wearing a bra, I’m fully exposed. There isn’t even enough fabric left to arrange any sort of cover. I spot graffiti on the wall above me, along with the winged symbol for The Immortal Kings.

Shit.

I begin to panic. I officially understand what Marco meant when he said ‘if I survive the night’ and he wasn’t referring to my wounds. I’m vulnerable out here.

The Immortals, along with everyone else in this town, know that someone left battered on their doorstep covered in yellow is fair game in their twisted gang rules. They can do whatever they want to me. Truce or no truce.

The only thing they can’t do is help.

I use the wall at my back as leverage to stand. A shooting pain up my spine tells me it’s a horrible idea. I fall back on my ass sending another stabbing pain down the back of my legs.

“Come on, EJ. Get your ass up,” I mutter angrily to myself. Another voice speaks to me, this one in my head, but’s is as real as if he’s whispering in my ear.

The voice is Grim’s.

You’re stronger than this. You’re stronger than him. He thinks he’s manipulative and cunning but you’re better. Marco has no idea who he’s fucking with. Now is your time to show him. Get up, Tricks. Come to me.

With his imaginary words fueling me, I manage to pull myself up to a somewhat upright position. I would jump and rejoice if I didn’t think I might break a vertebra in the process.

“Thank you,” I say to the voice in my head.

“Who you talking to little lady?” A voice asks.

I look over to find Damon, the leader of the Immortals, looking me up and down with an amused expression on his face.

“None of your fucking business,” I growl, glaring a laser-like warning at him so hard I’m surprised and disappointed I don’t decimate him where he stands.

“Oooohhh, she’s got bite,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “But you see, it is my business. You’re in Immortals territory. MY territory, which means YOU, yellow girl, are very much my business.”

“What’s going on?” Another male voice asks. A man stands next to Damon. Taking notice of me, his eyes widen with interest.

Damon bends over with his hands on his knees to meet my eyes. “It seems Marco has left us a gift,” he muses, scratching at his beard. “Although, this one is scrawnier than most of the others.”

“Not where it counts,” the other man chuckles. I glance up, and he’s staring at my breasts. My adrenaline kicks in, and I mentally count to three.

One.

Two.

I can’t even wait until three.

I’m bolting down the street barefooted with my breasts exposed while the two men give chase. I’m not fast, but I don’t think they’re trying too hard either. Sixth Street. I just passed Sixth Street. One more street and I’ll be in Bedlam territory.

Grim. Get to Grim.

If he wants to kill me, so be it. I’d rather be killed by Grim than by these fuckers.

My hair is tugged from behind, and I fall back onto the concrete with a force that knocks the wind from my lungs and sends a sharp bolt of pain through my spine.

“What in the hell do you two think you’re doing?” shouts a female voice.