by Jamie Zakian
“I don’t like your old man,” Dante said, following Sasha into the small room. He shut the door, plopped onto the only bed, and stretched out. The fucker better enjoy that soft mattress, since this would be the only time he’d spend atop it.
Sasha strained to keep her rage in check. She sat at the small desk, writing to Vinny. It was either now or later from prison, after she got arrested for murdering the fuck out of Dante.
“The guy forced you into marriage,” Dante went on, as if anybody was listening. “Turned you into a junkie, stole your property. Now he’s got some bimbo playing mom to your kid. I’d kill him if you’d let me.”
“What the fuck do you care?” Sasha slammed her pen onto the desk and turned to glare at Dante. “Don’t you have your own family to torment? Oh right, you killed them all.”
Dante sat up on the bed, stared into Sasha’s eyes. “Not all of them.”
“I ain’t your family, fucking psycho.”
“My grandson is goddamn cute as shit.” Dante settled back against the pillow, hiking his hands behind his head. “He’s got your spunk. Did you ever figure out who the father is?” He paused, waiting for an answer he knew wouldn’t come. “No way it’s the ape. Tyler is already smarter than that guy.”
The sound of Tyler’s name slithering from Dante’s mouth made Sasha want to vomit. Her fingers wrapped around the butt of her holstered gun. She could kneecap the fucker. In fact, she didn’t even really need Dante anymore.
Sasha jumped to her feet, and Dante flinched. Of all the people that man had encountered, she was the only one to strike fear in his gaze. She had to be his kryptonite. No matter what she did to Dante, he couldn’t hurt her. Such a weakness must scare the shit out of the man, a thought that brought an overwhelming fluster of joy to Sasha’s heart.
A laugh burst from her mouth. She grabbed her postcard and pen then headed for the door.
“Where you going?” Dante asked, moving to the edge of the bed.
“Don’t fucking go nowhere.” Sasha forced her grin into a glower. “And get the fuck off my bed.”
Chapter Fifteen
A light grip clutched onto Sasha, shook her from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes, and there was Dante’s face. Her hand flew to the knife on her belt. In seconds flat, she had the blade out and pressed against Dante’s neck.
“It’s me, little girl,” Dante said, raising his hands.
Sasha shoved Dante, scooted away from him. “Why the fuck are you touching me?”
“It’s five. You told me to wake you.”
The knife stayed in Sasha’s hand as she climbed off the bed. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Sorry.” Dante lit two cigarettes, held one out for Sasha. “I haven’t been able to let anybody touch me either, especially when my eyes are closed.”
Sasha took the cigarette from in-between Dante’s fingers. Her icy glare melted as shame painted Dante’s face.
“Everybody’s hands feel like that old bat’s hands,” he said, staring off into the corner. “Calloused, rough. I think…with Ellen it’ll be different. Her hands are a part of me.”
Tears welled in Sasha’s eyes, mostly because she was disgusted with herself for wanting to hug Dante. She understood the man’s pain so well. Vinny was her anchor, the only person whose touch could soothe her soul. She’d do anything to wrap herself in that touch right now. Just as Dante would walk through fire to find Ellen.
“I’m glad you showered,” Sasha said, grabbing her backpack. “You’re coming to dinner with me.”
“Nice. I’m dying to hang with that kid.”
“Don’t ever fucking talk to my son.” Sasha pointed a stern finger before shutting herself inside the bathroom and turning on the shower.
***
Dez
Jeri paced in front of the oven, checking the roast for the ninth time.
“It’s fine,” Dez said. He walked behind Jeri and wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t collapse against his chest like normal. Her shoulders remained stiff, tense.
“Sasha eats with her hands,” he whispered into the back of Jeri’s neck. “She’s not gonna care.”
“I care.” Jeri turned to face Dez. One glimpse of his half-smirk, and she was putty in his hands. “I shouldn’t care,” she said after a long exhale. “It’s just…Tyler already hates me. I’m screwed no matter what. If I outdo Sasha, I’m evil. If I can’t be as cool as her, I’m a loser.”
Dez chuckled. He gripped onto Jeri’s hips, backed her against the counter. “You can be my sexy, evil loser.”
A smile broke Jeri’s pout, and she leaned in to kiss Dez. Before he could slip his tongue into her mouth, a diesel engine’s rumble rattled every glass in the cupboard.
The stiffness returned to Jeri’s shoulders, and she stood up straight. “Oh God. She’s here.”
“Relax.” Dez slapped Jeri on the ass, pulling a yelp then a giggle from her mouth. “This is your shit now.”
“Right.” Jeri shook her head, her brow scrunched. “My shit?”
***
Sasha
A fiery pound clutched Sasha’s heart, harder the closer she walked toward the big house. She climbed the porch steps, glancing at Dante. The guy looked semi-civil. His hair was combed, and his face looked slightly less beaten when cleaned. It wasn’t Dez’s tantrum that left the shiner, cuts, and bruises on Dante’s face. The man spent a month as a punching bag for the Los Lobos. He was damn lucky to still have both eyes. The way Dante stared at her, with such gratitude, told her he knew that fact as well as she did.
“Please,” she said, spinning to face Dante. “Please don’t run your mouth.”
Dante lifted his hands, palms out, as if pleading innocence. “I’m on my best behavior.”
The front door creaked open, and Dez growled. He stepped onto the porch and crossed his arms, which completely blocked the doorway. “I can’t believe you brought him.”
“I couldn’t leave him at the motel. He’d take off, burn the town to cinders.”
“You could’ve cuffed him to your steering wheel.”
Sasha looked at her truck, then back at Dez. “I guess. You got any handcuffs?”
“Mommy!” Tyler pushed past Dez and hugged Sasha. “Who’s this?” he asked, pointing at Dante.
“I’m your grandpa,” Dante said in a rush, glancing at Sasha.
“You motherfucker,” Sasha muttered beneath her breath.
“I have a grandpa,” Tyler practically yelled. He took Dante by the hand, and both Sasha and Dez lunged forward.
“No.” Sasha jammed her elbow into Dante’s side, right in the kidney, as Dez pulled Tyler away. “What the fuck did I tell you about talking to my kid?” she whispered to Dante.
“I forgot,” he said, attempting to flash a charming grin.
“He looks like your daddy,” Tyler said, staring at Dante.
“He is.” Disgust cracked Sasha’s voice, and her shoulders fell into a cringe at the omission of her relation to Dante. “But don’t touch him, or talk to him. He’s a biker. I wouldn’t want his douchery rubbing off on you.”
“Oh.” Tyler took Sasha by the hand, leading her into the house. “Is your mama a biker too?”
“Ew, no.” Sasha picked Tyler up, which almost broke her back. She pointed at the picture on the wall of her mother climbing into the old black truck. “That’s my mama, right there.”
“I thought that was you,” Tyler said, looking between Sasha and the photo.
Sasha set Tyler’s feet back to the floor, but her muscles continued to burn. “Nah. I was inside her belly in that picture.”
Dante ran his finger along the picture, and Dez grabbed his arm.
“Don’t touch my shit,” Dez said through gritted teeth.
A glare that could shatter bones filled Dante’s eyes, but he didn’t budge. Except to slowly back away.
“Don’t be rude, Daddy. You gotta share.” Tyler waved Dante forward. “Come on, mister. I’ll show you my guitar
.”
Dante looked at Sasha, and Sasha looked at Dez.
“Just go get it,” Dez said. “Bring it down here.”
“Okay,” Tyler said, running up the stairs.
Sasha peeked into the living room just as Jeri strolled from the kitchen. The woman stripped off a white apron, smoothed down her sundress, and floated to Dez’s side.
The chuckle came too fast for Sasha to stop. This beauty pageant priss standing next to the big-bad trucker was just too comical.
“Is it my hair?” Jeri asked, glancing in the hall mirror.
Dez narrowed his glare on Sasha. “She’s probably just really stoned.”
“I am really stoned.” Sasha leaned close to Jeri, eyeing the perfect fit of the woman’s cutesy dress. “And you look lovely, doll.”
“Thanks.” Jeri inched closer to Dez, clinging to his arm. The woman did that thing where her stare flashed to Sasha’s scars then quickly away. Her mouth opened to pose the dreaded question, then quickly clamped shut. Every person Sasha met did that now. She should just get t-shirts made saying “They’re torture marks” with an arrow pointing to her face.
“Can I get you a drink?” Jeri asked, finally looking Sasha in the eyes.
“Yes, please,” Sasha said. She leaned against the threshold of the living room to watch Jeri’s ass sway as she headed back into the kitchen.
“Wine?” Jeri asked over her shoulder.
“Beer, if you have it.”
Once Jeri disappeared into the kitchen, Sasha let out a snicker. “Just, wow. That’s the kind of woman you like?” Sasha chewed back her grin as she stared at Dez. “She’s so…Suzie-Q.”
Dez grumbled, held his hand out to the living room. “Come inside, insult all my shit.”
Sasha walked into the living room and plopped onto the couch. Like a Pitbull, Dante stayed in the doorway, which meant Dez had to keep at the ready in the center of the room.
Glass bottles clinked, high-heels tapped tile, and Jeri pranced back into the living room with three beers. Sasha and Dez got their bottle with a smile, but not Dante. Jeri stood a full arm’s length from the man, stretched out to offer the beer.
“I didn’t get your name earlier,” Jeri said, yanking her hand away once Dante took the bottle. “When you were wrestling around.”
Before Dez could cock a fist, Dante sprung forward and took Jeri by the hand. “Dante,” he said, his grin coming off naughtier than his flirty tone.
“No touching,” Sasha said, downing half her beer. She had to get a nice buzz going before the fighting commenced.
Dante released Jeri, who scurried beside Dez. The way Dez’s jaw clenched, the low growl rumbling his throat turned Sasha on so much more than it should. That wasn’t her man, not anymore. And besides, if she had her choice she’d rather fuck Jeri.
Tyler bulldozed his way into the room. The neck of the large guitar strapped around his small chest bashed the wall, then teetered a lamp as Tyler hurried in front of Dante. “Here it is, grandpa.”
“He’s not your grandpa,” Dez barked.
Dante knelt down, strummed a few strings on the guitar. “Nice axe, a strat.”
“Do you play?” Tyler asked, holding the guitar out for Dante.
“Yeah, man.” Dante took the guitar and Tyler ran to flip on a small amp.
Tyler plugged the guitar in, jumping from the loud crackle that erupted from the speaker. “Play me some Slayer.”
Dante chuckled as he pulled the pick from beneath the strings. “How ‘bout Hendrix?”
Sasha gawked as Dante played a damn near perfect rendition of Voodoo Child. To see the man create spine-tingling melodies while smiling and singing to Tyler was surreal. In this moment, he didn’t look like the man Sasha wanted to carve into pieces. With his hands strumming out beautiful music, and a softness in his dark stare, Dante actually looked…cool.
Shivers ran down Sasha’s spine, followed by a wave of revulsion. She finished her beer in one gulp, then hurried into the kitchen for another.
***
Vinny
The door to the backroom opened, and four young women dressed in trench coats walked in.
“All right,” Otis said, shoving Kev off the couch. “Now the party can begin.” He rubbed his hands together, eyeing up the gorgeous ladies. “Cinnamon, you’re with me.”
The black girl wiggled out of her jacket, revealing a long stretch of bare skin. Vinny watched her round ass jiggle as she pranced toward Otis, dropping into his lap. Enzo and Kev argued over the sexy brunette, who Vinny knew from personal experience was a cold fish in the sack. In fact, the only one of the First Premier Escorts he hadn’t fucked was the blonde, who was staring at him.
“Hey there,” the blonde said, strolling in front of Vinny. She opened the flap of her coat, practically shoving her huge, perky, totally suckable tits in his face.
“No thanks, honey.” Vinny backed away from the chick.
“What’s this now?” Otis asked, looking up from the woman in his lap.
All eyes steered to Vinny, even the naked women who’d draped themselves over his buddies. Each stare held a different level of confusion, from the self-conscious to the clueless variety.
“I…umm.” Vinny cringed. There was nothing he could say right now that wouldn’t make him sound like a pussy.
“Sasha took your balls with her, huh?” Enzo teased, and Otis busted out laughing.
Vinny held up his middle finger, spanning the room of chuckling fools. “Fuck you all.”
The blonde closed her trench coat, leaned close to Vinny. “You got a girlfriend?” she whispered.
As badly as Vinny wanted to shout out Hell yeah, the words wouldn’t scrape past his throat. He’d never been happier. The girl of his dreams finally wanted him, but the relationship shit was different. He probably should’ve asked if he could fuck escorts while Sasha was gone, though he probably would’ve gotten slugged.
“It’s cool,” the blonde said, with a genuine smile. She sat in the chair beside the desk and grabbed a pack of cards. “We can play rummy.”
“Awesome.” Vinny scooped up a pile of blow from the coffee table, along with a handful of weed, and settled in behind the desk. “You deal, I’ll roll.”
***
Sasha
The pot roast was fucking delicious and held the mystical ability to spread a sense of irrelevance throughout Sasha. She’d never used the oven, except to reheat pizza, and it didn’t come out looking like the spread on the table in front of her. Hidden behind a large bowl of smashed potatoes, blocked in by a tower of homemade buttermilk biscuits, Sasha watched Dez flirt with a Stepford Wife. It made her feel like a child. The six beers she downed definitely wasn’t helping that matter.
“So, school,” Sasha said, looking at Tyler. “How you liking that?”
“I don’t know.” Tyler pushed the meat around on his plate. “Uncle Otis got me into a special school, back in the city. I was gonna have music studies after math, but now I’m here.”
“Your uncle Otis is a cool guy,” Dante said, helping himself to a second plate.
Tyler dropped his fork, sat up straight. “You know my uncle?”
“Yeah. We call ourselves cousins, ‘cause we’re so close in age, but Otis is actually my—”
Sasha waved her steak knife Dante’s way. “The lip,” she grumbled.
“I miss my uncles,” Tyler said, so softly it barely made a peep. “My home.”
Dez reached over Jeri, taking Tyler’s hand. “This is your home.” He tried to sound comforting, but the statement came out fake as hell. The image, though, of a legitimate mom and dad seemed right for Tyler. It was a far better picture than the scuzzy thug section at her end of the table.
“I’m gonna grab another beer,” Sasha said, rising from her chair.
Jeri jumped to her feet. “I’ll get that for you.”
“It’s cool. I know where it is.” The words sounded cocky. It wasn’t what Sasha intended, but she really didn�
�t give a shit.
Once inside the kitchen, Sasha didn’t stop at the fridge. She walked into the corner, opened the thin pantry door, and slipped inside. This little cubby had always been her hideaway. Amongst the jar-lined shelves, words couldn’t sting and nobody would see her cry. How she loathed her stupid eyes for shedding tears right now. Her brain didn’t care that she’d lost Dez. At least that’s what she’d commanded it to think.
The overhead light clicked on, and Sasha yelped. She looked at the door, finding Dez’s wide body filling the skinny frame.
“This isn’t where we keep the beer,” he said softly.
“I know.” Sasha took a quick swipe at her eyes, then grabbed a jar of peaches. “I need these, for the road.” Dez reached for her arm, and she pushed her way past him.
After grabbing a beer from the fridge, she peeked into the dining room. Jeri gathered up the abandoned plates as Dante stared at the woman’s cleavage.
“Where’s Tyler?” Sasha asked. She shoved the peaches in her jacket pocket and twisted off the cap to her beer.
“He has to finish his homework to get dessert. It’s sort of like…a rewards thing.”
Sasha nodded while taking a swig off her bottle. “That’s smart.”
“It was Jeri’s idea,” Dez said, lowering his gaze.
Of course it was that woman’s idea. Jeri was goddamn perfect, in every goddamn way possible.
“I gotta get some shit out of my mother’s desk, in the clubhouse,” Sasha said, backing toward the doorway.
“I took all your mother’s shit out of her desk.”
Sasha snickered as she placed her near empty beer on the counter. “All the shit you knew about.” She walked into the dining room, forcing a smile for Jeri as she leaned beside Dante. “Thank the nice lady for dinner. You’re leaving,” she whispered.
Questions filled Dante’s stare, and Sasha sharpened her glower.
“Thank you, Jeri,” Dante said, rising from his seat. “Dinner was awesome.”
“You’re leaving?”
