Soulless (Lawless #2) - T.M. Frazier


Where do I even start? Of course I want to thank my wonderful husband and beautiful baby girl for always supporting me and loving me.

I want to thank my author friends for all their wonderful wisdom and advice and for that extra push when I really need it. Crystal, Monica, Rochelle. I love you guys.

I want to thank Vanessa and Manda over at Prema for being amazing as always.

I want to thank the best group of readers in the entire world, my Frazierland crew. You keep me going each and every day and I can’t thank you enough. I love you guys.

Thanks to my agent Kimberly Brower for putting up with me and my schedule craziness. I promise one of these days I will get my act together…maybe.

Julie you are my spirit animal. I don’t think I would have finished this without you. Thanks also to Jennie, Kimmi, Julie, Clarissa, and Jessica for putting up with my craziness while writing this book!

Special thanks to Lane Dorsey and Josh Mario John for the beautiful cover photo.


For Frazierland, my tribe

Table of Contents

Title Page






Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight


Bonus Scene

Other Work by T.M. Frazier

How well I have learned that there is no fence to sit on between heaven and hell.

—Johnny Cash



I was mad at the world, at the whiskey for not being strong enough, at the drugs for not lasting long enough, at the fucking whores I banged for not getting me off when it was my fault my dick was fucking useless after a bucket of fucking blow. I went so far as to be pissed at random people on the street for laughing or smiling when I felt like I’d never be able to smile or laugh again.

How dare they?

How fucking dare they move on with their lives like my friend hadn’t just died.

I was on the verge of losing what little sanity I had left when I rode out of Logan’s Beach and set off to find a place, or places, where I could numb myself against the feelings that followed me from town to town, cheap motel to cheap motel, girl to girl, high to fucking high.

Then, this pink haired girl from the past came barreling into my life and it was like for the first time, I’d found a purpose. A real genuine purpose and not just some shit Chop spewed out as orders, that I and every other member of the Beach Bastards took as bible, but a true reason to live again.

To WANT to live again.

Someone to live for.

Ti was my chance at some sort of real happiness when Lord fucking knows I had no idea what that really was before her. The only glimpses of real genuine happiness I’d ever had came courtesy of Preppy, King, and of course Grace. Like when King tattooed us for the first time and we loved them¸ even though they were crooked and downright fucking awful. Like when Grace made me my very first birthday cake. Like the time King, Prep, and I sat at the top of the water tower and thought the world was ours to take.

Because at that time, it was.

Then there was Ti, and my new happiness became the first time I saw her smile. The first time I kissed her. The first time I tasted her pussy by the fire. The first time she let me inside of her, shamelessly pushing through her virginity in a frantic need to make her mine.

Because that’s what she was.

That’s what she would always be.

And I will kill every motherfucker who dares to try and take her from me.




Thirteen years old…

I went into my old man’s office to let him know that the shipment he’d been asking about for the last month was finally at the gate. The second I opened the door, I instantly regretted forgetting to knock. Chop was leaning back on the faded green chair in the corner of the room with his jeans down around his ankles, a beer in his hand. A redhead BBB named Millie, or Mallie, or Jennie, was on her knees between his legs, her head bobbing up and down on his dick. “Shit,” I muttered, remembering how much shit he gave me the last time I interrupted him with a chick. The black eye took