Missing Pieces (Ashby Holler #3)

by Jamie Zakian

  “Vinny,” Sasha called out from inside the ball of tremors she had become at the base of the toilet.

  He rushed into the bathroom, dropped to the floor at her side. “I’m right here, babe.” His hands shook, wanting to reach for her, but his jaw also hurt from the punch he received the last time he tried.

  Sasha grabbed onto Vinny’s shirt, fast enough to knock a gasp from his chest. “Please,” she said, her voice quavering. “Help me.”

  “I can get you whatever you need,” he said, bushing clumps of sweaty, tangled hair from Sasha’s frantic eyes.

  A small smile lifted Sasha’s pale cheeks, and the tremble of her body turned to a full-on quake. “I just need one shot.”

  Vinny tried to pull away from Sasha, but she clung to him.

  “You don’t need that shit.”

  “Please.” She let go of Vinny’s shirt and slid her hand between his legs. “You help me feel better, and I’ll make you feel really good.”

  “Fuck.” Vinny shoved Sasha back. She toppled to her side, her hip smacking against the hard tile floor. “That’s what you want to be?” He rose to his feet, stomped to the bed, and pulled a file from beneath the mattress. “Remember Roxy?”

  Sasha turned away as Vinny dropped the file on the floor beside her. She kept her gaze on the wall, her shaky hand out to block the folder.

  “Look at it!” Vinny grabbed Sasha by the back of the neck, forced her face right in front of the file. He opened the folder’s brown cover to a picture of Roxy’s first mugshot, and Sasha cried out.

  “Possession,” he said, flipping to the next picture. “Prostitution.” He kept flipping through mugshots. Each one the woman grew paler, the circles under her eyes deepening. The last photo, of Roxy’s stiff blue body sprawled across a dirty mattress pulled sobs from Sasha’s chest.

  “Is this what you want to be?” Vinny yelled, pushing Sasha closer to the picture. He hated Sasha for making him do this, hated himself even more for actually carrying it out. His mind spun, chest ached. He yanked his hand off Sasha’s neck, but she stayed hunched over in front of the picture.

  “I could have saved her,” Sasha said, running her finger along the glossy photo of Roxy’s dead body. “She wanted to be saved.”

  Tears poured from Sasha’s eyes, splashed the scatter of pictures below her, and wails caught in her throat. Vinny wrapped his arms around her shuddering body. “She wanted you to be saved too.”

  Sasha crashed into Vinny’s arms, practically crawled into his lap. Her tears soaked through his shirt, chilled his skin, but that didn’t stop him from clutching onto her tightly.

  “You need a few joints and a cigarette,” he said, rubbing Sasha’s back in attempts to quell its shivers.

  “You’ve got weed and cigarettes?” Sasha turned her tear-filled eyes to Vinny, a glimmer of hope shining beneath the watery glaze.

  “Of course. I’m not trying to torture you, girl.”

  Sasha hugged Vinny tight, and he kissed the top of her head even though her hair smelled like vomit.

  ***

  Sasha

  Before Sasha fell asleep, Vinny told her three days had passed. She’d hoped two more had slipped by while she slept. Her cheek rubbed against soft pillows, and they scraped like steel wool, but she didn’t get out of bed. Seven to ten days. That was the sentence Vinny gave her. She deserved more. A wild animal was more cordial than her behavior as of late.

  Seven to ten days. Then, she could leave this too-bright, too-white room. The walls gleamed, shocked her eyes, which was why she stayed in bed. At least that was her story, and she was sticking to it. Embarrassment didn’t keep her rooted to the mattress, shame wasn’t the reason she pulled the blanket up past her chin, and fear…the anxiety that she’d run straight to Harlem definitely hadn’t shackled her body to the scratchy sheet beneath her. That constant dread she’d end up a body in the morgue, on a cold metal slab beside Roxy, couldn’t creep from the darkness and drag her down. She wouldn’t let it. There was something she had that Roxy didn’t, something that always kept her going. People. Sasha had people, good people counting on her to be strong. Whether strength resided inside her or not, she had to display it for them. For Tyler. Her son was out there somewhere, probably waiting for her.

  “Vinny.” When he didn’t answer, she sat up in bed. Her stare went straight to the bedroom door, which was wide open. She tossed the blanket aside, and Kev stepped into the doorway.

  “He’ll be right back,” Kev said, leaning against the threshold. “The doc called with your test results, would only talk to him.”

  “What was I tested for?”

  “I don’t know.” Kev glanced over his shoulder, twice, jittering in the doorway. “Vinny will be right back, I hope.”

  A snicker flew from Sasha’s mouth, puffing out her tangled hair. “Don’t like me no more, huh?”

  “No—” Kev shook his head, cringed a bit. “I mean, yeah. I fucking love you. I’m just…the door’s open. Man, you’re gonna fuck me up and run out of here.”

  “I’m not gonna fuck you up,” she said through a chuckle. “And I’m not running out of here.” Her smile faded, sunk into a frown. “I don’t know where I’d go, what I’d do if I left this room.”

  Kev crept inside, slow, with one eye on the door. “You can hang with me. We’ll pretend to be tourists, see the sights. I’m getting sick of this mob bullshit anyway.”

  “That sounds like a solid plan, brother.” She scooted to the edge of the bed, patted the mattress beside her. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

  “I guess.” Kev looked at the door one more time, then sat next to Sasha.

  “When’d you get here?”

  “I’ve been here,” Kev said, stealing glances at her bare, scarred legs. “On Otis watch.”

  Sasha slumped down, trying to follow the drop of her heart. “Otis doesn’t know about this?”

  “Fuck no. I fucking hope not. He thinks me and Vinny are pissed, taking time off.”

  A lump rose inside Sasha’s throat, but she choked it down. Now would be the perfect opportunity to practice the fake strength she was supposed to be displaying. “I was hoping that was just a scam to keep the BGF from our table.”

  Kev lowered his gaze, shrugged.

  “Nah, it’s cool,” she said, even though she was weeping on the inside. “Otis has every right to hate me. Do you know where Dez is, Tyler?”

  “Back at the holler. I kinda wish—”

  A crash erupted from the living room, followed by the thump of heavy boots and the shatter of glass.

  “Wait here.” Kev jumped to his feet. He pulled a gun from his holster and headed for the open bedroom door. The second he peeked his head into the hallway, the butt of a gun smashed against his face.

  Kev dropped to his knees, blood flowing from his nose, and Sasha hopped out of bed. Her shaky legs buckled, and she fell to the floor.

  “Sasha Ashby,” a silky, Spanish voice said. “I’ve been looking for you, mama.”

  Sasha looked at the doorway, finding a familiar smile. “Carmen. The Los Lobos are in New York now?”

  “No.” Carmen walked into the room, shadowed by large men with large guns. The woman’s hips swayed beneath the tight dress that clung to them, her smile growing wider as she stood over Sasha. “I’ve been calling that bullshit restaurant for a month, trying to get a hold of you. Then my associates with the Nuestra told me they bought you on the Black Market, gave me this address.”

  Carmen’s men dragged Vinny into the room, landing punches every time he struggled. They pushed Vinny to his knees in front of Sasha, then shoved Kev down beside him. Vinny looked at Sasha, and a stream of blood trickled down from the cut above his eye.

  Carmen pulled a handgun from the holster of the man beside her. She stood behind Vinny, clicked off the safety, and pointed the gun at the back of his head.

  “Stop,” Sasha yelled. She rose to her knees, and Carmen’s men shifted their rifles to her chest
.

  “These aren’t your captors?” Carmen asked, waving her gun between Vinny and Kev.

  “No. They’re my family.” Sasha dropped her gaze to the needle marks on the arm, covered them with her shaky palm. “They’ve been…helping me.”

  “You have a lot of family,” Carmen said, lowering her gun. “That’s why I’ve been trying to find you.” She glanced over her shoulder, sending long waves of brown hair to glide over her tanned skin. “Bring him in.”

  Sasha looked at the doorway, and growled at the sight of Dante. He was slumped under the grip of Carmen’s men, his face beaten to shit.

  “Is this guy family too?” Carmen asked, sneering as she pointed at Dante.

  A wicked smile crossed Sasha’s lips as she stared at Dante’s battered face. One word and his brains would be splattered on her way too-white walls. Except there would be no satisfaction, no fun in it for her.

  “Yeah,” Sasha said, her annoyance dragging the word out. “That asshole’s technically my father. What’d he do to you?”

  Carmen crashed the butt of her gun against Dante’s cheek. “This puto tried to take over my operation. Turn my men against me.” She struck Dante again, the gun’s handle splitting the skin on his cheek.

  Dante doubled over, drooled blood onto the clean carpet, and Sasha groaned. Her bio dad was a dumb bastard. There wasn’t much she could do for him now, except ask for a quick death.

  “He seems to be pretty ambitious,” Sasha said, glaring at Dante. “But he doesn’t have the brains to back his shit up.”

  “I’d like to kill him,” Carmen said, turning her back to Dante. “String him up in front of my entire crew and gut the fucker.” She strolled past Vinny and Kev, as if they weren’t held on their knees bleeding, and knelt beside Sasha. “But I’d like your permission. I don’t want to burn our bridge, mama.” Carmen leaned closer to Sasha, eyed the scabs on both of Sasha’s feet and her left arm. “You need a shower, mama. You smell like puke. Do you need me to help you get clean?”

  Sasha couldn’t lift her stare from the floor. She was mortified to be seen like this, in front of an entire pack of Mexican gangsters no less. Never again. She would never tap a vein ever again.

  “I am clean,” Sasha said, forcing her chin to raise high. “A little soap and water, and I’ll be as cherry as pie, doll.”

  “Good.” Carmen rose to her feet, glanced at Dante. “And him?”

  Dante’s gaze clung to Sasha, pleading, but she was too numb to care. She’d already taken one hit for him, a three-month long hit in a dark cell. There was nothing left for her to give to Dante, especially not a second thought.

  “I’m sorry he caused so much trouble for you.” Sasha looked away from Dante’s split lips, his swollen eyes. “Do what you have to. You have my permission.”

  A smile lit Carmen’s dark eyes. She waved her hand, and her men carted Dante toward the door. “We should have dinner while I’m in town,” she said, oblivious to the struggle between Dante and her men in the doorway. “Catch up.”

  Sasha squirmed on the soft carpet, more every time Dante called out her name. Her fingers twisted into the ends of her shirt, heart racing. She looked at Vinny, who shrugged under the grip upon him, then at Carmen. “Yeah, I—”

  “Your mother’s alive,” Dante yelled, clinging to the threshold as men tugged his legs. “I can take you to her.”

  A whirlwind of prickles ignited in Sasha’s chest, spread throughout her body. When a blustery fire hit her toes, she jumped to her feet.

  “De alto,” Carmen said, and her men stopped their attempt to drag Dante away.

  Sasha walked toward Dante, her fists balling tighter with each step. “You’re lying.”

  “We faked her death,” Dante said, without a hint of doubt in his stare. “I told that crazy Mancini bitch, and she did the same thing to you.”

  Sasha turned her glare to Vinny and Kev, still on their knees. “Y’all saw my mother, right? She was dead.” They just stared at her, shock twisting their faces. “Right?”

  “I saw her,” Vinny said, a slight tremble cracking his voice. “Her body looked just like the one in the alley, the one that was supposed to be you.”

  The deepest laugh erupted from Sasha’s chest, but she wasn’t happy. She was furious. Her mother was alive. That dirty cunt left, of her own free will, never once reaching out. Dante knew. The entire time Sasha was locked in a cell, forced to be her dead mother, Dante knew the woman was really alive.

  Red. All Sasha saw was red. Without permission, her knuckles slammed against Dante’s face.

  “Where is she?” Sasha yelled, landing another solid punch before a man ushered her back.

  “No way,” Dante said, spitting a wad of blood to the floor. “I’m not talking ‘til I’m free.”

  Rage boiled Sasha’s blood. The pressure her anger created would blow the skullcap right off the top of her head if not released, and she only knew one way. “I need a knife,” she said, holding out her hand.

  The men scattered around the room turned to look at Carmen. Carmen nodded, and the handle of a long hunting knife was placed in Sasha’s palm.

  A wide smile spanned Sasha’s lips as she stepped in front of Dante, still caught under the grip of Mexican gangsters.

  “Where is she?” Sasha asked, dragging her blade along Dante’s cheek. His skin ripped open in the knife’s wake, spilling blood onto Sasha’s feet.

  Dante shook his head, held his hard glare on Sasha.

  “Where!” She sliced his chest, twice, but he didn’t make a sound. Now she didn’t care what information wormed around inside his head. Now she’d rather walk the Earth, calling out her mother’s name, instead of letting Dante breathe for another second.

  Sasha drew her arm back, aiming the tip of her blade at Dante’s stomach.

  “I’ll take you to her,” Dante yelled in a rush. “I die, and you’ll never see your mother again.”

  Waves of hesitation almost drowned Sasha. She wanted to drive her blade into Dante’s smug face, needed to let her fury, sadness, misery out on something. “Fuck!” She turned toward the bed and threw the knife across the room. It sailed over Kev’s head, lodging into the wall with a thump.

  Of all the things Sasha had been through—losing Candy, a four-year coma, missing her son’s childhood—to beg for Dante’s life was by far the hardest to swallow. Her snarl wouldn’t fade, even though her back was to Dante, even though she was staring at a beautifully lethal woman. “Look, Carmen—”

  “I want something.” Carmen sat on the edge of the bed as if she owned it and crossed her long legs.

  That broke Sasha’s scowl. It wasn’t the sexy woman on her bed that brought a smile to her lips. It was the confidence that surrounded that sexy woman on her bed. “Sounds like you’re already prepared to negotiate.”

  “Privacy,” Carmen said, and her men hurried to collect Vinny and Kev off the floor.

  “Sasha,” Vinny said as the men shoved him toward the door.

  “It’s cool.” Sasha flashed Vinny an apologetic stare, and he stopped struggling. Even Dante walked out of the room without a fuss, which was goddamn amazing considering the colossal hissy fit he’d just thrown.

  “Don’t shut that door,” Sasha called out as the last man headed for the bedroom door. “It has no handle.”

  “A room with no handle on the door,” Carmen said once they were alone. “And you’ve been in here for what…three, four days?”

  “Yeah,” Sasha muttered, crossing her arms to hide both her new scabs and old scars. For the first time, ever, she felt awkward to be in just a tank top and her underwear in front of a woman. It was a shitty feeling. The emptiness left in her body from the poison she’d pumped into her veins was nothing compared to the devastation she felt over losing her swagger.

  “Why don’t you go shower?” Carmen said, gesturing to the bathroom. “Get dressed, so we can talk.”

  Chapter Ten

  Vinny

  It wa
sn’t easy for Vinny to sit on a couch next to Dante. That man ruined Sasha, shot his brother, and constantly escaped death. Vinny could fix the escaping death part. There was a knife clipped to his belt, and men weren’t holding him down any longer. In two seconds flat, he could have Dante’s throat split wide open. It would fuck Sasha’s plans, but screw Ellen. That bitch went through a lot of trouble to leave them behind. As far as he was concerned, that lying, no good woman could stay gone.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Dante said, glancing at Vinny’s hand.

  Vinny hadn’t noticed his fingers drumming the wooden handle of his knife, didn’t realize he’d jacked his shirt up for easier access, until now. “I am thinking about it.”

  “Silencio,” a man said, clutching his Uzi tighter.

  Although Vinny didn’t know Spanish, the man’s voice clearly said shut the fuck up.

  “I should be the one slicing you up,” Dante whispered, leaning closer to Vinny. “For turning my little girl into a junkie.”

  “She’s like this ‘cause you put her in a cell for months,” Vinny seethed, hatred locking his jaw into a clamp.

  “I almost died getting her out of that cell. My mistake was taking her to you. I should’ve known a bunch of punk-ass truckers weren’t men enough to keep one little girl safe.”

  Vinny spun on the couch to face Dante, drawing his fist back, and a gun cocked behind him.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you pinche gringos? You’re told to be quiet, and you shout louder. You fuckers want to get shot?”

  Kev raised his hand like a goddamn moron. “Will I get shot for rolling a joint?”

  This was so typical for Sasha. Vinny got guns shoved in his face while she fucked a hottie. One of these days, the tables were going to turn. Sasha could stare down the barrels of semi-automatic weapons and he’d bang the exotic, big-tittie woman. One of these days.

  “It must feel like shit,” Dante said, glaring at Vinny. “Knowing the only person in your crew with any balls is a chick.”