by Jamie Zakian
“Breakfast is over,” she said through gritted teeth. “Let’s go.”
***
Vinny
Eleven in the morning, and the lobby of Fat Tonys was bustling. It wasn’t fancy city folk who rushed around the bar and hovered over tables. It was the staff. They polished, vacuumed, set the restaurant as if it were a stage, and they did all that without bumping into Vinny once.
“Mr. Archer,” the hostess called out, hurrying in front of Vinny. “I have the mail, and the menu needs to be approved, but Mr. Lazzari isn’t in yet.”
“Really?” Vinny moved toward the bar, peeked up the small stairs to find an empty table. “Enzo?”
“Mr. Deluca isn’t here either,” the woman said, her tone rising to the verge of whiny.
“Here.” Vinny grabbed the stack of mail from the woman’s hand, allowing her overflowing cleavage to fully shine. “I’ll take care of all this shit.” He signed the sample menu, handed it back to the woman, then headed for the backroom. What he found inside the private office when opening the door not only shocked him still, but royally pissed him off. Otis, Enzo, and Kev sat around the long glass coffee table, drinking whiskey and snorting lines of cocaine.
“Assholes!” Vinny slammed the door shut behind him and walked toward the desk. “Y’all been up all night doing coke without me?”
“You’re no fun,” Otis said, sprinkling some powder into a joint. “You would’ve brought us all down.”
Kev snorted a line, then glanced at Vinny. “Sorry, man. I was gonna call you, but Otis pulled a gun on me.”
Chuckles rang out, and Vinny dropped the mail onto the desk. A glossy postcard caught his eye, its bright colors gleaming beneath a stack of white envelopes. He pushed the papers aside to see big bubble letters atop a long sandy beach. “Greetings from Maryland,” he mumbled to himself, picking up the postcard.
“You’re here now,” Enzo said, holding out a silver straw. “Come take a hit.”
Vinny walked toward the men sitting on the floor, flipping over the postcard. His steps froze at the sight of Sasha’s sloppy handwriting, and his heart jumped into his throat.
I hope you like postcards, motherfucker. ‘Cause I’m sending them every day to make up for the one I didn’t send last year.
A chuckle slipped from Vinny’s grasp before his lungs locked up on him. His body ached without Sasha to touch it. All his thoughts spiraled to the worst-case scenario in her absence, but this little square piece of paper helped calm his nerves.
“What did Sasha have to say?” Otis asked, snapping Vinny from a daydream of Sasha’s wavy black hair running along his chest.
“What?” Vinny tucked the postcard into his inside pocket, close to his heart.
“That postcard,” Otis said, holding out a joint. “It’s from Sasha.”
“How do you know that?” Vinny took the joint and knelt beside Kev to cut out a line.
“Your face.” Otis leaned on the table, practically chewing on a smirk. “You act like a love-sick little bitch when it comes to that girl.”
“Fuck you,” Vinny said, grabbing the straw from Enzo. For that comment, he was going to keep the cocaine-laced doobie Otis just handed him.
“But seriously,” Enzo said, turning to face Vinny. “What did she say? It could be code.”
“No. This one was just for me.”
“This one?” Otis asked.
“She’ll be sending more postcards,” Vinny said, leaning down to tackle his thick line.
***
Dez
Sunlight beamed through the bedroom window, warming Dez’s bare chest. He rolled onto his side in bed and pulled Jeri close. Her naked body felt like silk against his own. It was a surprise how her soft skin spawned tingles in his fingertips, how perfect her curves fit with his body. He had thought only one woman could affect him that way, but he’d been wrong.
“You should bring some of your shit here,” he said, kissing the back of her neck.
Jeri squirmed. The sheet slid down, releasing her beautiful breasts, and Dez couldn’t help but wrap his lips around her hard nipple.
“You want me to bring my shit here?” Jeri asked, twisting her fingers into Dez’s hair.
Dez ripped the sheet off Jeri, which pulled a soft giggle from her pouty lips. “Yeah.” He maneuvered between Jeri’s legs, kissing her stomach. “So you don’t have to go all the way home before work when you crash here.”
“Really?” Jeri hiked her legs on Dez’s shoulders, squeezing his cheeks with her thighs.
The whistle of a diesel engine echoed off the hills outside the bedroom window. Dez sat up straight, and Jeri’s legs fell to either side of him. He looked out the window. His heart jumped into his throat at the sight of steel exhaust pipes peeking above the bare trees.
“Fuck.” Dez jumped out of bed, grabbed his pants.
“Is it the bus?” Jeri asked, reaching for her top.
Dez glanced at the clock, but only for a split-second. His gaze was fastened on the window, breath choked out by the whoosh of air brakes.
“No,” he muttered. “It’s still early.”
A steel grill glinted in the sunlight as the old black International pulled into the lot. “I think it’s my brother,” Dez said. It had to be Vinny, which meant Sasha actually was dead. Why else would his brother come home, sporting that ride?
“Your brother?” Jeri hurried to dress, stopped in front of the mirror to smooth down her hair. “I look gross.”
“Just give me a minute.” Dez shoved his feet into his boots, left Jeri wide-eyed in the middle of the room as he hurried out the bedroom door.
Chapter Fourteen
Sasha
A mini cyclone whirled in Sasha’s stomach as she drove past the rusted, weathered sign for Ashby Trucking. The cyclone warped into a twister of razorblades when she parked across from the clubhouse. It had been so long since she pulled a rig onto this lot. She expected it to feel better, like she’d finally found her way home, but only dread stirred in her chest. This place was empty, lonely, rotting away. It was just like her. Only, it didn’t feel like the place she was meant to be.
Sasha looked at Dante, who slumped in the passenger seat. His stare lingered on the clubhouse, a half-frown stuck on his lips.
“I should’ve went along with Ellen’s plan,” he said, almost to himself. “We’d all be in there right now, chillin’.”
“No, we wouldn’t,” Sasha said with a sneer. Except they probably would be: her mother, Candy, all of them. She wanted to strangle the life from Dante for fucking her world to shit. Instead, she gripped onto her door handle and squeezed.
“Do not get out of this truck.” Sasha wagged her finger Dante’s way then opened her door. His grumbles followed her as she climbed down the running board, only stopping once she slammed the door shut.
She walked to the middle of the lot, which seemed to be as far as her legs were willing to go. She’d been dreaming of a hug from Tyler. Dreams were awesome; they were warm and comforting. Reality fucking sucked. Never had she been so scared. Beatings, callous insults, even bullets she could take, but the fear of being rejected by her son was damn near crippling.
Her gaze veered to the clubhouse. She should just run in there, pillage her mother’s desk, and leave. Only, she’d already been spotted. The front door to the big house creaked open, and shivers ran beneath Sasha’s skin.
Dez hurried down the porch steps, took one look at Sasha, and stopped short in a skid of dust. His jaw dropped, eyes wide. It looked like the dude just saw a real-life monster, especially with the way he crept toward her. He probably forgot how shredded her face was. The lines of puffy, red skin running along her cheeks sure did surprise the fuck out of her every time she walked past a mirror.
“Hey,” she said in a bit of a croak, since her throat decided to close up. “I’m sorry to—”
“I ain’t got no money,” Dez said, crossing his arms.
By the leer in Dez’s eye, Sasha wasn
’t sure if he’d hug her or hit her. The way his face fought between a smile and a frown, how his entire body quaked except his balled fists sent off some seriously mixed signals.
“Umm, okay.” Sasha shrugged, reached for her wallet. “How much you need?”
Dez took a step backward, shook loose his tights fists. “What the fuck do you want?” He peeked around her shoulder, looking into the semi’s cab. “Who’s in there?”
“Right.” Sasha scratched her head, which apparently was full of rocks. She should’ve prepared for this conversation, maybe wrote a speech. There were a lot of topics to cover, and she had very little time to get through all that shit. Dez would most likely flip out instead of trying to process the fiasco that was her life. She really should’ve called first.
“Dante’s in the—”
Dez shoved Sasha aside, stomping toward the truck. The muscles along his arms flexed beneath his tight t-shirt as he pounded his fist against his palm.
“Stop!” Sasha pulled Dez’s arm, pushed his chest, but it was like trying to slow a rock slide.
Dante opened his door, climbed onto the running board. “What’s up, mother fucker?” A wicked grin spread across Dante’s lips as he jumped to the gravel, holding his hands out at his sides.
“Please, Dez.” Sasha jumped between the two raging men. Her back pressed against Dante’s chest, and she cringed. There was nothing she’d enjoy more than letting Dez loose, but Dante would be completely useless with a shattered face.
“I need him,” Sasha said, clinging to Dez’s arm. “To find my mother.”
That broke Dez’s glower, replaced it with shock. He staggered back a step, stared at Sasha as if she were insane. “Your mother’s dead.”
“Yeah. The same way I was dead.”
“Dez?” a woman called out, and the shock in Dez’s eyes deepened.
Sasha followed the silky voice to the blonde bombshell on her mother’s front porch. She didn’t know whether to be jealous or pissed. The bitch was hot. Perfect tits, tight waist, and no scatter of scars on her creamy skin.
“That your woman?” Sasha asked, her gaze still caught on the timid woman who twirled her long, golden hair.
Guilt took Dez’s stare down. He rubbed his forehead, muttered some shit about timing.
“That’s cool.” Somehow, Sasha managed to keep her voice from quaking and her chin high. “I got something going with Vinny anyway.”
“Of course you do.” Dez stepped so close to Sasha his wide body blocked out the sun, which allowed his electric eyes to shine. “What, you wait fifteen whole minutes after I left to fuck him?”
“She needed a real man,” Dante said, and Dez’s face turned beet-red.
Dez swung his fist over Sasha’s head. She ducked, Dante jumped to the side, and Dez’s knuckles slammed against the side of the semi.
“Woo-hoo!” Dante chuckled, slapped his hands together. “That’s why my little girl’s fucking your little brother. You’re a goddamn animal.”
Sasha knew what was coming next. She tried to stop Dez from charging, but he pushed her, hard. Her ass hit gravel just as Dez tackled Dante. She sat on the cold ground, watching the two men roll across the lot while hurling punches at each other. Grunts and the sound of knuckles cracking bones echoed over Dez’s new woman’s screams.
The dumb broad ran toward Dez, reached for his swinging fist, and Sasha jumped to her feet. She took the woman by the arm, as gentle as possible, and pulled her back.
“You don’t wanna get tangled in that mess, doll.”
“They’re gonna kill each other,” the chick screeched as a stream of blood flew into the air from the ball of testosterone on the ground. “Tyler’s bus is coming up the hill.”
“Fuck.” Sasha pulled her gun from its holster, stepped away from the now crying woman, and fired a shot off above her head.
The loud bang stopped both Dez and Dante mid-swing, just in time for the squeal of brakes to ring out from the road.
“Shit.” Dez hobbled to his feet, stifling a groan. “It’s a fucking half-day.” He backed away from Dante, wiped the blood from his cheek and lips.
A bright yellow school bus stopped beside the front gate just as Dante jumped to his feet. The man rocked in place, ready to lunge at Dez, and Sasha aimed her gun right at Dante’s face.
“Get the fuck back in the truck.” Her stare must’ve reflected the murderous thoughts in her mind, because Dante backed away.
Her goddamn devil of a father climbed into the semi, and Sasha holstered her gun before Tyler could hop off the bottom step of the bus.
Dez turned his glare to Sasha, like she was next in line for a beating. “I swear to fucking Christ, if you do anything—”
“I’m not gonna hurt my son,” Sasha said, and Dez’s woman gasped. Sasha stared at the chick, more like her overflowing cleavage. “That’s right, sweetheart. I’m his wife.”
“Ex,” Dez all but hissed.
“Did you forge my signature on divorce papers and forget to tell me? It would be fitting, since that’s how you got me to marry you.”
“Mommy,” Tyler yelled, running toward Sasha.
Sasha knelt down, and Tyler crashed against her chest. His weight took her back, and her ass hit gravel once again. Except this time, she didn’t grumble. She smiled, wider than she thought possible, as she wrapped her boy in a tight hug.
“God, I missed you,” she said, soaking in the warmest embrace she’d ever experienced.
“I knew you’d come for me.” Tyler wiggled out of Sasha’s clutch. He planted his little hands on his hips, and he looked up at Dez’s woman. “I’m sorry, Jeri. My mama’s here now, so you’re gonna have to go.”
Sasha had to literally bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Goddamn, she loved that tiny dude.
“Tyler,” Dez barked, his sharp tone making Tyler’s body flinch.
“That’s not nice, little man.” Sasha climbed off the ground, brushing dirt from her pants. “I think your pa really likes…what was it? Jeri.”
“Apologize,” Dez said to Tyler, pointing at the woman who was slowly backing away.
“No,” Jeri said, waving her hands. “He doesn’t have to—”
“Sorry, Jeri,” Tyler said in a long, drawn out tone.
“No worries, buddy.” Jeri rubbed the sides of her arms, looking at the sedan parked out front of the big house. “I should go.”
“No.” Dez took Jeri by the hand, pulled her close to his side. “Stay.”
Sasha looked away. She might not want Dez’s hands on her body, but she damn sure didn’t want to see them comforting some other bitch.
“I’ll go,” Sasha muttered, keeping her gaze low.
“You just got here,” Tyler cried out, tugging on Sasha’s arm. “Please, Mommy, take me with you.”
“You want to come back to New York with me?”
“Sasha,” Dez said with a groan, narrowing his glare.
This wasn’t the time for a throw-down. Dez was already riled up, and Sasha had a wild goose-chase to continue. She bent down, looked Tyler in the eyes. “I have to go find my mama. But when I’m done, I’ll come back for you.”
Tyler pouted, and Dez sneered at Sasha as if she were the bad guy.
“But I can come by for dinner tonight,” Sasha said, smiling back at Dez. It was rude to invite herself to dinner, but she didn’t give a fuck. This was her property, Dez was crashing in her house, and she really missed her kid.
Tyler jumped up and down, clapping, which made landing a kiss on the kid’s cheek nearly impossible for Sasha. She latched onto Tyler’s shoulders, which slowed his excited hop. “I’m gonna run into town, grab a room, get cleaned up. I’ll see you around six.”
“Love ya, Mommy.” After planting a kiss on Sasha’s lips, Tyler took off up the hill toward the house.
“I’ll, umm…” Jeri wiggled out from under Dez’s arm, walked backward up the hill, “keep an eye on him.”
“I hope to see you tonigh
t,” Sasha called out as Jeri scurried toward the house.
“Why?” Dez stepped in front of Sasha, cutting off her view of the woman’s ass shifting beneath her tight skirt. “You wanna steal my kid and my woman?”
“This bitch is alone with my son. For all I know, she’s tying him up and throwing him in a closet right now.”
Dez let out a condescending snicker. “She’s not from your family. She wouldn’t do something like that.”
The words hit like a backhand, actually took Sasha into a slump. She had a good comeback, a few in fact, but was far too drained to argue. Dez let out a roar, his fingers clenched.
“Dammit, Sasha. Every time shit gets good for me, you breeze in and blow it all to Hell.”
“I know.” Sasha lowered her head into her hands, but it did nothing to help the whirl of her mind. She loved Dez, wanted him to be happy. The type of girl he needed to feel whole, she could never be. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him on the hook just to appease her own twisted desires.
“I’m sorry.” She looked up into Dez’s eyes, and his stiff body wilted. “I swear. I won’t blow your shit to Hell.”
Dez turned his back on Sasha. “You already are.” He walked up the hill, blending into the big house’s shadow, and Sasha headed for her truck.
***
The front office of the motel had an array of postcards, though none resembled Sasha’s holler. She grabbed the only one with tree-lined mountains, dropped a hundred on the counter, and took her key.
Dante was leaning against the semi’s grill, tapping his foot as Sasha walked from the office. He smiled at her, splitting his newly busted lip, and she snarled.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled, heading for her room. Once inside, she considered slamming the door in Dante’s face and locking him out. Except the only thing that douchebag would do while unattended is cause more trouble for her.
