by Jamie Zakian
Before one syllable could stream through the phone, Sasha slammed the receiver down. Glass bottles clinked together as she mashed her cigarette out. “Sounds about right. Who could turn down a road captain?”
Sasha tore through heaps of dirty clothes, stopping at the first pair of tan cargo pants. “I don’t care. Why should I care?” After sliding into the pants, she pulled off her t-shirt and flung it across the room. “Bitch didn’t waste no time.” She grabbed a black tank top and lifted it to her nose. The stench of blood and whiskey, a combination she once loved, turned her stomach. She pitched the shirt over her shoulder and snatched another near identical top. “Whatever. She can live that lie.” In a huff, Sasha pulled the tank down over her chest. “Got me talking to myself like a fucking freak.”
Empty beer bottles rattled in every corner as Sasha stomped across the room. She yanked her door open, a cool breeze sweeping along her bare arms. The chill went straight to her heart, spiking in waves. Sadness, regret, anger topped in a rolling crest and nearly crushed her. She looked at her leather jacket crumpled on the floor, orange flames riding along its sleeve.
“Don’t forget your skin,” Sasha muttered. Her body wilted, and she trudged back into her room, scooping her heavy coat off the floor.
***
Thin beams of sunlight cut through the trees up the hillside, leaving Sasha in the remnants of day. She strolled across a deserted lot, avoiding the pile of blackened metal to her right, and crept up the clubhouse steps.
She stopped just outside the threshold and peeked inside. It seemed…bigger without hairy-assed locals parked on barstools and lonely in the absence of long legs and tight minis. A step closer and she glimpsed into the backroom. Her eyes zeroed in on Dez. A lock of his tangled hair glided down his wide shoulder, and the corners of her lips raised. She cringed, backing away. Butterflies? That couldn’t be butterflies in her stomach at the sight of a…man.
“What the fuck?” Sasha mumbled into her palm.
“What?” Vinny said from behind her. “What the fuck?”
A gasp carried Sasha around in a whirl. “Vinny!” Her balled fist loosened, and she whacked him on the chest. “You scared the shit outta me.”
“What’s going on in the backroom?”
Vinny stepped toward the door, and Sasha grabbed onto his arm, pulling him outside.
“It’s just club BS,” she said, practically dragging Vinny across the porch.
“Shouldn’t we be a part of that?”
Sasha slumped onto the bench, staring at the town’s lights in the distance. “I’m not ready to deal with all that yet.”
“I know what you need.”
Wood shifted as Vinny sat beside her. She turned to face him, finding a freshly rolled joint and a smile.
“Awesome.” Sasha leaned over, bumping Vinny with her shoulder. “Spark it.”
They puffed and passed as the last of the sun’s rays fell under darkness.
“You look better,” Vinny said, leaning forward to better stare at her in the low light.
Sasha turned from the glimmer of fireflies and blew a cloud of smoke in his face.
Vinny exhaled, blowing the smoke back her way. “You even got a little pink in your cheeks.”
His finger drifted toward her face, and she slapped it away.
“That’s because I’m pissed,” Sasha said, handing Vinny the joint.
“What’s new?”
“Asshole.” Sasha snatched the roach from Vinny’s grasp, grinning as she took a hit. The smile faded when the cherry reached her fingertips, burning skin. “I talked to Candy.” She squished the red-hot tip between her fingers, grinding its heat into tender flesh.
“She tell you about Otis?” Vinny asked in a near whisper.
“You know about that?” Sasha wiped her hand on her pants, a black stain remaining on her thumb and forefinger. “We spent fourteen hours alone in that truck, you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Chill. I just found out this morning. Big mouth Betsy.”
“You know, gossip isn’t the only reason they call her big mouth Betsy.” Sasha shook her head when Vinny’s wide eyes veered to her. “Or so I’ve heard.”
“I know. I found that out this morning too.”
The giddy look on Vinny’s face forced a chuckle from Sasha’s lungs. A light clicked on overhead, and her mother walked onto the porch.
“Finally awake,” Ellen said with full-on attitude. “Would you two like to join us now, or should we all keep waiting?”
Vinny jumped to his feet, and Sasha snickered. She rose from the bench, wiping her face clear. Her mother’s scowl wouldn’t burst her high, not yet. She kept her stare on Vinny’s back, clumping past her mother’s outstretched arm and into the clubhouse.
Chapter Fifteen
Sasha dropped into her chair. She nodded to Kev, raised her brow at Otis, then settled back. Her plan to avoid Dez lasted about two seconds. Like a joint to the flame, her gaze went to him, though he leered at her mother as she sat beside him at the head of the table.
“We’re gonna burn their shit to the ground.” Ellen lit a cigarette then poured a shot of whiskey. “Vinny, you’re with Kev. I want you two to douse their bikes and that ghetto bar they call a clubhouse in gasoline.” She downed the shot, slamming her glass on the table. “Me, Otis, and Dez will boost the rest of their semis. They still owe us a few.”
“Where do you want me?” Sasha asked, leaning forward.
“Here. Just relax, watch the place. You got a long run and you’re ridin’ solo. Rest up ‘cause I want you on the road at six a.m., give you time in case of traffic.” Ellen looked at the clock, grumbled, and then poured another shot. “It’s only eight. We still got five hours until we move out for Tennessee. Grab some grub; load up the pickups with gas cans and shotguns. Everyone cool with this?”
Everyone around the table nodded their heads, except for Dez, who snickered. “No. This ain’t no solo run. Sasha needs backup.”
Ellen turned, her glare hardening on Dez. “This was your plan.”
“Yeah, and I planned it so we’d be back in time to tail Sasha on the run.”
Tension seemed to build an electric field between the two, creeping into every inch of the room. Neither backed down, which made Sasha’s legs fidget.
“Do we need to take a vote?” Ellen seethed, her jaw clenched.
“No,” Sasha said, tapping her zippo on the table. “It’s a solid plan. Let’s get ready.”
“Good.” Ellen rose from her seat, ripping her glare from Dez. “Kev, Vinny, head down to Gussie’s and fill five or six gas cans. I’ll be in the big house if anyone needs me. Sasha, walk with me?”
“Sure.” Sasha hopped up and followed her mother from the room. “What’s—”
Ellen lifted her hand, stopping Sasha’s words. It wasn’t until they hit gravel and the clubhouse lights dimmed far behind them that her mother’s steady pace slowed.
“I called in my markers with every lawman from here to Albany. They’re on full alert.” Ellen stopped beside the lone semi, and her frosty glare melted. “You will have backup out on the road. You just won’t see them.”
Sasha nodded, dropping her smile from view. Fingers grazed her chin, and she flinched, raising her eyes.
“You didn’t think I’d let my girl head out alone, did ya?” Ellen reached out and patted the fender of the semi beside them. “This was your father’s favorite truck, the symbol of this holler. She needs to be protected.”
An invisible hand of stupidity slapped Sasha in the face. She had actually thought her mother was talking about her, not a ratty old truck.
“Right.” Sasha backed toward the garage, blinking away tears. “Important truck. I gotta make some phone calls. I’ll catch you guys before you leave.” She spun on her heels, making a beeline for the stairs.
Sasha gripped the railing and glanced back. Her mother glided up the hill, her outline blending with the darkness created by the big house’s shadow.
“God, I’m a freakin idiot.” Sasha took the steps to her room two at a time, but it wasn’t fast enough to shake the hurt. “And now I’m talking to myself again.”
Sasha slammed her door closed, sealing herself inside the sanctity of her room. The mess, the scent of stale beer and marijuana, stole the edge from her bones. Just as her tight muscles uncoiled, the door swung open and Dez stomped inside.
Reflex carried Sasha away from the angry man in front of her, and the stiffness returned. “What the f—”
“Where are you going? Who are you meeting up with?” Dez yelled.
He moved closer, and Sasha inched away. Her back thumped against the dresser, but she didn’t crumble. Her chin lifted, frost hardening her spine. “What do you care?”
“I wanna know where you are, when you’ll be back, what kind of danger you’re in.”
Dez stepped close enough for his chest to brush against hers, trailing sparks in its brief contact.
“Why?” The word barely made a sound, but Dez heard it. He had to have, with their lips so close.
“Because…”
Icy blue eyes pierced Sasha’s strength. She wanted to look away, gather her wits, but Dez’s stare held her prisoner.
“I…I’m your sergeant at arms. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.”
The snicker that burst from Sasha’s mouth couldn’t be stopped, even if she wanted it to. “Right.” Her shoulder bumped against his as she walked to the center of the room. She had to be the most clueless person alive, yet everyone brought their shit to her. “For some reason, you think I have the answers.” Her arms rose then flopped back at her sides. “I don’t know shit! About anything, apparently.”
“Sasha—”
“Go ask your president. She might give you what you want.”
“She can’t give me what I want.”
Dez’s deep voice boomed right behind Sasha. She tilted back, and arms slid around her waist. Lips brushed her cheek, warm breath drawing her in. Those large, rough hands skated under her shirt, and she wilted against the solid body behind her.
“You’re what I want.” Dez wrapped his fingers around the collar of her jacket, sliding the leather off her shoulders. The jacket fell to the floor, and his lips landed on her skin. “All of you.” The light breath on the back of her neck came with shivers, which crawled beneath her flesh. “Every inch of you.” His fingers snaked down her pants, forcing a gasp from her mouth once he snuck inside.
Sasha spun, locking onto Dez’s kiss like a magnet. Every time she grinded against him, she hated herself a little more for liking it so much. This wasn’t a punishment, a lesson she needed to learn. It was a true connection, an electric vibe that pulled her deeper into its clutches.
Dez’s shirt dropped atop her jacket, and she bit the side of his neck. The moan that flowed from his lips, low and throaty, ignited a fiery blaze inside Sasha’s chest. She ran her tongue down rock solid pecs, beyond the ripples of his stomach. Her knees hit the floor, and her hand landed on the gun fastened to his belt. She pulled the Colt from its holster, her eyes drifting up. Every muscles turned to rubber once she spotted Dez’s half-smirk and the desire that drove his stare. The gun thumped against wooden planks, and Sasha unlatched Dez’s belt.
***
Vinny
The moment Kev parked the truck, Vinny opened his door. He walked from the pickup, peeking into the clubhouse. His gaze lingered on the flock of women who set out cold cuts on the bar, their long legs flaunted by tight little skirts. A nod and a wink later, he backed away.
Light shined behind Sasha’s curtain, and Vinny headed toward the garage.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
Vinny stopped on the first step, turning toward Ellen’s voice.
“Now’s probably not a good time.” Ellen pointed to her ear then up to the window.
Between an owl’s call, Vinny heard a long moan. He knew that sound. He’d pulled it from Sasha’s mouth the day before. His shoulders slumped, and he fought to keep his face straight.
“My brother up there?”
“Sorry, kiddo,” Ellen said with a light shrug.
Vinny plopped down on the stairs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
“Looks like you’re used to your big brother sticking his fingers in your Kool-Aid.”
His smirk fluttered the zippo’s flame as he lit his cigarette. “Something like that.” He took a drag, glancing up to the window. “I used to hate Dez. Everything always came so easy for him, women, friends, respect. When he got sent away, I was happy, like the universe finally came to collect its fee for giving out too much awesome. It only took me two weeks to realize it didn’t come easy. He just made it look that way.”
“I don’t know,” Ellen said, sitting beside Vinny. “You might be right. Things do seem to come pretty easy for Dez.” She snatched the cigarette from Vinny’s hand, taking a quick puff. “And he likes to throw his weight, even when he knows it’s wrong. It’s gonna be hard without Chewy. The club really needed a level head and a firm hand. With that VP chair empty, there’s no one to keep our sergeant in check.” After another drag, she handed his smoke back.
“It’ll have to be Otis,” Vinny said.
“No. His duties as road captain are too important. I need someone else, someone I can trust, someone I’ve known for years.”
Vinny’s mind drew a blank. Other than Kev, there was no one besides Sasha.
“I’m talking about you, stupid.”
“What?” Vinny lurched back, shaking the rail. “From prospect to VP in a week? The guys will never go for that. I wouldn’t get the votes.”
“I can get the votes.” Ellen leaned closer. “Would you get my back, no matter what?”
“Ellen,” Vinny flicked his cigarette across the lot and grabbed her hand, “you’re like a mother to me. Even if I were still sweeping the floors, I’d have your back. No matter what.”
“And Sasha?”
Vinny’s neck crooked, but he stopped himself from looking up at Sasha’s window again. “Sasha isn’t always…in tune with reality.”
Ellen chucked, nudging Vinny with her shoulder. “You’re good people, Vincent Archer. I knew it the first time I saw you. Knee high to a smurf, no front teeth, tryin’ to say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’”
Vinny rubbed his lip, hiding a grin.
“The girls laid out one hell of a spread.” Ellen rose to her feet, stepping toward the clubhouse. “Why don’t you come grab a sandwich?”
“In a bit. I wanna hang out here, give ‘em both the guilt trip when they come out.”
“That’s my boy.” Ellen slanted forward, narrowing her eyes. “No talk of this VP business, to anyone. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Vinny said through a smirk. Ellen grinned then walked down the gravely slope.
Vinny leaned back, elbows propped on the step behind him, and stared at the night sky. Clouds drifted overhead, flashing glimpses of stars between their thick swirls. His chest felt like those clouds, heavy, ominous, except he couldn’t sail away on cool winds.
Floorboards creaked overhead as the bathroom door slammed. Vinny sat up and lit another cigarette, honing his disappointed leer.
Chapter Sixteen
Sasha
Sasha rolled onto her back, sinking into the mattress. Her fingers shook, lips numb; but somehow she controlled her breathing from running wild. When Dez’s eyes fell to her, she looked away. His stare pierced her nerve, judged her every move, and added to the stockpile of shame she already carried on her shoulders.
Her arm twitched, but she kept that palm from slapping her forehead. She should hop up, say something quirky, and then rush out of the room. That’s the routine. Her mind knew. She was just waiting for her goddamn body to catch up.
“Come here, you,” Dez said, drawing her back to his chest. His strong arms held her body tight, lips tickled her neck, and that pesky layer of humiliation blew to tiny bits of tingles.
“We should go before someone comes looking for us.” Her words sounded right, yet they felt so wrong. The last of her willpower teetered, and those hands traveling along her skin didn’t help.
“Just let me live this dream a little longer.”
“Dream?” Sasha peeked over her shoulder, tearing Dez’s lips from her back.
“Yeah. One thousand nine hundred and ninety-eight nights, I dreamt of a soft bed and a beautiful woman. This is much better than my imagination.”
Sasha turned in Dez’s arms. His eyes hit her again, but her immunity must have built up because she didn’t shy away. The heat Dez’s body generated felt too good, infiltrating her with the most pleasant burn. She withered against his solid chest, kissing him softly. Her tongue snaked along his top lip, bringing him in as she pulled back. “Dream’s over. Time to wake up.” Sasha pushed off Dez’s chest and climbed from the bed.
“Harsh,” Dez mumbled, sinking into the pillows.
A shirt snagged Sasha’s footsteps, Dez’s shirt. She scooped it off the floor and tossed it at his face.
“Way harsh,” Dez said without moving a muscle.
Sasha smirked, grabbing her clothes on the way to the bathroom. Once shut inside and surrounded by unshared air, she felt free to exhale. Not bad. She was only about fifty percent spaz.
Two minutes flat and she was dressed, teeth brushed, bandana tied atop her head. This time, waves of hesitation didn’t force her back. She lifted her chin and strolled out of the bathroom. Dez greeted her with a lit cigarette and leery expression.
“Vinny’s outside,” Dez said, pointing to the window. “Just sitting on your bottom step.”
“Fuck. Really?” Sasha maneuvered to the window, peeking out.
