Missing Pieces (Ashby Holler #3)

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Missing Pieces (Ashby Holler #3) Page 4

by Jamie Zakian


  Vinny tossed the joint onto the nightstand and ran his now free hand along Sasha’s side. His fingers thumped with each ridge of scabs they glided over. She felt like a reptile, hard-shelled and scaly. A cool chill slithered beneath her skin, clashing with the fire pumping through her veins. She was definitely turning into a beast.

  “Seeing your body turns me the fuck on,” Vinny said, brushing his lips against her mouth. His fingers glided along her cheek, but she could barely feel it. Scar tissue blocked the gentlest of touches.

  Sasha sat up on the bed and pulled off Vinny’s shirt. His chest was solid, hard. That, she would feel pressed up against her reptile flesh. “Gore turns you on?” she whispered, biting Vinny’s ear.

  “I don’t see no gore.” Vinny slid his hand into Sasha’s hair, knocked her tangled waves loose from its bun. “I only see you.”

  He kissed Sasha, hard, clutched her waist, pulled her hair. His rough hand ran up her chest, and he pushed her back onto the mattress. He didn’t ask if she was all right; there was no tremble in Vinny’s fingertips. His electric eyes scanned Sasha’s naked body as he unfastened his belt, and a slight tingle ignited deep inside her chest.

  A loud clunk rang out as Vinny’s jeans hit the floor. The sound sent shivers down Sasha’s spine. It was one she knew well, the thump of a gun hitting the ground. Vinny grabbed Sasha by the hips, yanked her to the edge of the bed.

  “Oh, hell yeah,” she said with a moan as she grinded against the hard-on that crept between her legs.

  The bathroom door creaked open, spilling bright light over the ink that covered Vinny’s shoulders and arms. Roxy froze in the doorway, clutching a towel to her still damp body.

  “Come here.” Sasha stretched her hand toward Roxy, wiggling her fingers. “Slide your sexy ass between us.”

  A giggle flowed from Roxy’s mouth. The towel dropped to the floor, and Roxy hurried toward the bed.

  ***

  Sasha lay atop silky sheets, under a tangle of arms and legs. Vinny snored beside her, his arm dead across her chest, and Roxy’s leg clutched her waist. To crawl out from beneath this jumble of flesh, silently, would be damn near impossible. It was a chance Sasha had to take. The two bastards snuggling against her got to sleep. She should be afforded that luxury too, except sleep would never come while thoughts of a shiny needle floated around inside her mind.

  A tiny lift of her head, and Sasha spied Roxy’s purse. The big leather bag sat on the bathroom sink’s long marble counter, its patches of brown, red, and orange suede reflecting off every shimmering surface.

  It wasn’t the actual purse that called to Sasha. The dwindling bag of smack and small pouch with every accessory she needed to get truly high was what sang to her soul. She would never rest. Not as long as that grating melody, which only played for her, echoed around the room.

  Shivers nipped at Sasha’s spine. Her fingers twitched. Fuck everyone in this bed. She could use the bathroom. There was nothing wrong with that.

  Vinny snorted, rolled onto his side when Sasha pushed his hand off her chest. That was one naked lover she’d unraveled from. Roxy’s sexy brown leg barely moved when Sasha crawled out from under it. The bed squeaked, but Sasha didn’t slow her somewhat clumsy departure from the mattress. Her stare had become fused with Roxy’s purse.

  The shine of the bathroom’s overhead lights stung Sasha’s eyes, brought a layer of tears to the surface, but she didn’t blink. She saw the only object of her desire, and nothing would stop her from grasping it.

  Sasha didn’t have time to shut the bathroom door, not with Roxy’s purse gleaming on the countertop. She grabbed the cool leather strap, pulled the bag close. In seconds flat, she had the powder in the spoon and a lighter lit.

  While Sasha loaded the syringe, she eyed her right foot. Her little piggies were fucked. Instead of the market, it looked like her toes had visited the slaughterhouse. The virgin skin on her left foot would be getting sacrificed today. It was a thought that excited Sasha, which also brought a wave of disgust that drowned her.

  Just as Sasha brought the needle’s tip to the fresh skin between her toes, the bathroom door thumped against the wall. She pulled the needle back, tried to hide it under her leg as Roxy stomped into the bathroom.

  A deep stare of betrayal filled Roxy’s eyes as she clutched a satin sheet to her body, staring down at Sasha. “What are you doing?” she practically screamed.

  “Shh.” Sasha looked past Roxy to the bed, and Vinny stirring on it. “What the fuck—”

  Roxy dropped to her knees beside Sasha, the sheet fluttering. “Look at your foot.” She grabbed Sasha’s ankle, her fingers trembling. “What did you do?”

  Sasha crawled across the bathroom floor, shut and locked the door. “Damn, girl. Vinny’s not cool like that.”

  “You promised.” Tears ran down Roxy’s cheeks, the needle quaking in her grasp. “You lied.”

  Roxy dropped the syringe as she rose to her feet. Sasha stared at the still loaded needle rolling across the white tile, then looked at Roxy hurrying toward the bathroom door.

  “Fuck,” Sasha muttered, glancing back at the needle. Roxy flung the sheet off her body and yanked open the bathroom door while Sasha dove for the needle. She jammed the tip between her toes, shot half a tube in one quick plunge. There was just enough time to stuff the needle and spoon back in its pouch before a fiery rush tore through her body.

  Vinny peeked into the bathroom as Sasha wobbled to her feet. “What’s going on?” he asked, gesturing to the room behind him. Beyond the ripples of Vinny’s distracting abs, she glimpsed Roxy pull on her clothes. Sasha took a step toward the bathroom door, and Roxy burst past Vinny, stomped up to Sasha, and latched onto the purse.

  “This is mine.” Roxy snatched the purse and the little leather pouch from Sasha’s weak grip, then tore ass out the bathroom.

  “Hey,” Sasha yelled as Roxy ripped open the bedroom door. “That shit inside your bag is mine.”

  Roxy stopped in the doorway, looking back at Sasha. “Not anymore, doll.” Hints of sorrow filled Roxy’s lost stare, and then she walked away.

  Vinny turned his wide eyes from the now empty bedroom to Sasha. “What the fuck?”

  “Just…” Sasha waved Vinny off, staggered over her jelly feet to chase Roxy. “Go back to bed. It’s all good.” She picked her clothes off the floor, dressing as she headed for the bedroom door.

  “Sasha,” Vinny called out.

  There was no time to think up bullshit excuses, so Sasha grabbed her boots and picked up the pace. She was not going to spend another night trying to score more smack or a new woman, for that matter.

  Sasha might’ve fell down the top half of the stairs a little bit, but she mastered the art of running down swaying steps pretty quickly after that. “Roxy,” she shouted, just as Roxy stormed out the front door.

  “This fucking bitch,” Sasha muttered, almost jogging out the penthouse. Her shoulder crashed against the smooth wall in the hallway, sending a jolt into her bones that slowed her steps. The dim hall stretched out in front of Sasha, longer the more she stared down it. Roxy was at the elevator now, pounding her finger against the button. Sasha had to catch that woman before Roxy slipped into the city like a shadow.

  “Wait, please,” Sasha said, though the words may have streamed out in a mumble. Somehow, she managed to reach Roxy’s side. All the world’s weight seemed to fall on her shoulders. The air was so heavy, it dragged Sasha down. She grabbed onto the side of Roxy’s arm to keep from tumbling to the floor.

  “Here.” Roxy shoved the bag of heroin into Sasha’s hand. “Just take it and go.”

  Sasha dropped her boots to the floor, shoved her bloody feet inside, and tucked the bag into her pocket. The drugs were hers. She could walk away and be perfectly fine without Roxy, for maybe three hours.

  The elevator door slid open, and Sasha backed Roxy inside. Her girl was no push-over. Roxy slapped Sasha’s face, screamed about broken promises, but Sasha didn’t let go
. She pushed Roxy against the elevator’s wall. The second her chest fell against Roxy, the struggle ended.

  Although Sasha would love to dive into ignorance, she had to see Roxy’s face. She looked up from the silky neck in front of her blurry eyes, only to find a hurt gaze.

  “I lost you,” Roxy said in a quaver.

  “I’m sorry I lied.” The strength had faded from Sasha’s legs, and she couldn’t help but lean against Roxy. “But you don’t know me. I can handle my shit.”

  A short, sarcastic snicker erupted from Roxy’s mouth. “You sound like a fucking idiot.”

  The elevator door opened with a ding, and Roxy slid away from Sasha.

  “Really?” Sasha said, bouncing from wall to wall as she followed Roxy into the way too bright, far too sparkly lobby. “That’s how it’s gonna be? You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

  Roxy stopped short, her long messy hair tapping the back of her bedazzled jacket. She spun to face Sasha, jabbed her finger at Sasha’s chest. “I didn’t pick this life. It was dumped on me. You think I like slamming shit into my veins just to deal? I hate it. I hate myself.”

  A fuck-load of people had gathered around to watch Sasha and Roxy shout at each other in the middle of the garish lobby. Every one of those assholes in suits, lugging thousand-dollar briefcases could suck it. The dumb fuckers whose bullshit lives Sasha had interrupted didn’t much matter to her. Roxy’s gentle spirit, the kindness behind her deep brown eyes, the feel of her silky skin was what mattered to Sasha.

  She took Roxy by the hand, locked their fingers together. “If you leave now, without me, we’ll never see each other again. Is that what you want?”

  A lone tear carved its way down Roxy’s cheek. “Let’s go.” Roxy kept a firm hold on Sasha’s hand and barged past whispering men and narrow-eyed women. “I fucking hate Manhattan.”

  Chapter Five

  Vinny

  Vinny strolled down the sidewalk, ignorant to the sun’s rays. It had been a strange fucking night, even stranger morning. For all Vinny knew, the mind-blowing sex with two incredibly scarred women was a dirty figment of his twisted imagination. Except he could still feel Sasha’s lips on his neck, his chest, his—

  “Where the fuck you been?” Otis called out.

  The short tone of the Don’s voice snapped Vinny out of his own nasty thoughts. Jesus, he’d walked right though Fat Tonys, up the small steps to the private dining area, and sat in his seat next to Otis. Without even noticing. Fucking Sasha would end up getting him killed.

  “I, um…”

  Otis shifted in his seat at the head of the table, which made Enzo and Kev fidget in their wooden chairs. “You been chasing Sasha, or Dez?”

  “Both,” Vinny said, fishing out his pack of smokes. “I couldn’t stop Dez.”

  “I know.” Otis waved over a waitress, and a mug of steaming coffee was placed beside Vinny. “Dez called me from Kentucky at five o’clock this fucking morning.”

  Goddamn did Vinny miss Dez, which was stupid considering he wanted Sasha all to himself. Although, with Sasha, it didn’t matter if Dez was around or not. Vinny would never get that girl all to himself.

  “I caught up with Sasha,” he muttered into his coffee, not caring to elaborate on how that meeting went.

  Otis leaned on the table, staring at Vinny. “Dez had some things to say about Sasha.”

  Vinny wasn’t surprised Dez had a bunch of trash to talk. His brother liked to blame everyone else for every little thing that happened, but it was that bastard’s fault Sasha was acting so weird. Sasha wasn’t used to being babied. Plus, Dez was a piss-poor coddler. His dumb-ass oaf of a brother had chased Sasha right into the arms of a sexy, exotic, broken angel, and Vinny wasn’t the least bit surprised.

  “What the fuck did Dez have to say?” Vinny slammed his mug onto the table, spilling a drop of coffee over its brim. “And you should’ve seen how he dragged Tyler out of the penthouse. That shit was fucked up.”

  A low growl streamed from Otis’s mouth. Judging by the anger that brewed in Otis’s glare, it was probably a good thing the man hadn’t witnessed that scene. Tyler may be Dez’s “son,” but that kid meant something special to every person at this table. Even Enzo looked crushed that Tyler was gone, and he’d just met the little guy a few months ago.

  “Dez told me,” Otis said, forcing his rage-filled glare into a semi-aggravated glower, “Sasha’s been disappearing for days at a time, hanging with some strange Mexican woman.”

  “Not Mexican,” Vinny said, lighting a cigarette. “Puerto Rican.”

  Otis sat up straight, as if an invisible hand stuck him. “You’ve met her?”

  “Yeah. Roxy.”

  “Roxy, what?” Otis asked, pulling a pen from Enzo’s front pocket and grabbing a napkin.

  “I don’t know,” Vinny said with a snort. It didn’t seem like an appropriate question to ask the woman while he was fucking her, or when she threw a hissy-fit and stormed from the penthouse. “I just met her last night. Sasha brought her home.”

  “So, this Roxy woman was in the penthouse? Did she touch anything?”

  Vinny looked down at his lap. There was one thing he could think of that Roxy had her hands all over, but he wasn’t about to whip his dick out. “Um…She had a beer. It’s still sitting in the living room. Why?”

  Otis nodded at Enzo, and Enzo rose from his seat, grabbed Kev by the arm, and headed toward the lobby with Kev in tow.

  “What’s up?” Vinny asked, his voice echoing around the empty restaurant.

  “Enzo and Kev are gonna run that bottle over to our friends in blue. They can pull some prints, tell us who this woman really is.”

  “You think Sasha’s in danger.” Vinny’s heart jumped into his throat at the thought of some fucker trying to hurt Sasha again. A sudden burst of dread, fury, anguish washed over him. He balled his hands into fists, but the prickles in his fingertips wouldn’t fade. Sasha would never end up in a dark hole, alone and scared. Never again. “Do you know something? Are there more Mancinis out there?”

  “No.” Otis laid his hand over top Vinny’s fist. “I just want to play it safe. Sasha has a…”

  “Target on her back for predators,” Vinny said through clenched teeth.

  “A trusting heart,” Otis said, sitting back in his chair. “And it gets her in trouble, a lot.”

  Otis had changed since coming to New York. It wasn’t the power to command hundreds of men to kill on demand that had turned Otis ruthless. Vinny’s friend grew cold the day they dropped a coffin, thought to hold Sasha’s body, into the ground. That’s when Vinny’s friend became his boss. Not the road captain kind of boss either. In only two months, Otis had become the bloodiest Don in Lazzari history. The killings didn’t end when Sasha returned to them, her body shredded almost beyond recognition. Now, Otis was determined to wipe out any threat to every member of his now much larger family, and Vinny couldn’t be happier.

  “What’d you want me to do?” Vinny asked, wishing “lock Sasha in a tower” would be the answer.

  Otis rose from his seat. He stared out at the busboys hurrying to prep the many tables below their private dining area. Each ghostly table got a coat of shimmer for the assholes that would pile into this place, hoping to graze the feel of a wicked life.

  “Do your fucking job,” Otis said. He grabbed his belt and nodded at the waitress beside the bar. The girl giggled, slinked off to the backroom, and Otis steered his hard stare to Vinny. “You were supposed to shut down an underground poker house last night. Do you think you can run a crew and keep an eye on Sasha? Or should I have Kev do it?”

  Vinny sneered. He could take Otis’s sarcasm, usually, but Sasha withdrawal was kicking in and he was feeling a bit ornery.

  “Motherfucking Kev,” Vinny yelled. His chair scraped the floor as he jumped to his feet. Vinny stomped past Otis. His hip bumped the table, launching a mug to the floor. The shatter of glass boomed throughout the quiet room, but he didn’t slow his trot down th
e small steps.

  “I was just fucking with ya, brother,” Otis called out.

  Vinny didn’t look back. He lifted his middle finger high in the air as he headed for the front door.

  ***

  Sasha

  The squeak of bed springs sent spikes into Sasha’s spine. She dropped her half-eaten hamburger onto its grease-soaked wrapper and looked at the bed. A rusty cot wasn’t waiting to rip her flesh to dangling pieces of dead meat; it never was. That didn’t mean shit. She still expected to find her jagged cot whenever she heard the squeal of metal springs. Instead, like always, she found Roxy sitting cross-legged on a filthy mattress that centered a closet some asshole dared to call a motel room.

  Her girl seemed to light the drab walls in a shimmer of gold. Roxy always shined. Even hunched over, holding a rubber strap tight around her arm with her teeth, she shined.

  Sasha inched toward the bed as Roxy pulled the drained needle from her arm. Roxy opened her mouth, a soft moan escaping. The rubber strap slipped from Roxy’s lips, unraveled onto the mattress, and Sasha pushed that crap aside to crawl in bed with Roxy. She laid on the dusty pillow, gazing into Roxy’s glassy eyes. If there were ever a time to convince Roxy to share the needle, it would be now.

  “How’d you get the money for all this?” Roxy asked, gesturing to the hole-filled walls around them that barely blocked out a screaming child’s wail.

  “I took all the cash from Vinny’s wallet.”

  “That’s fucked up.” Roxy slapped Sasha, light, playful, keeping her hand firmly planted on Sasha’s chest.

  Sasha glided her palm along Roxy’s hand, clasped their fingers together. “You like Vinny.”

  “I like you.”

  “He’d treat you right, Vinny.”

  Roxy shook free from Sasha’s grasp, sat up in bed. “You trying to push me off on your friend?”

  “No, I—”

 

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