by Jamie Zakian
The tip of the needle quaked as Sasha jammed it into her skin, pulling back to slip into the sweet spot. She pressed down the plunger and warmth flooded her body. The heat rushing through her veins scorched away the pain of her flesh, clouded every dark memory ravaging her mind. Tingles led to a powerful slump. Her back slid down the wall, hiking up her flannel as she fell to her side.
A cockroach scurried in front of Sasha’s eyes, and patches of black mold surrounded her. It was all good. The filth would fade, as soon as a haze crept up to claim her vision.
“Sasha,” Roxy called out from behind the closed bathroom door. The locked knob jiggled, and the door rattled under a barrage of knocks. “Sasha!”
“Be out in a minute,” she slurred. A spin had gripped the world, but Sasha was numb to the sway brought on by drugs. Her palm slapped the cool tile of the floor. She pushed herself to her knees and glanced around the bathroom. Shit was fucking everywhere. Her boot sat in one corner, a bloody sock in the other, and the tools of her forbidden deed were scattered around her.
As Sasha reached for her sock, the needle rolled across the dirty floor. She dove for it, brought the syringe close to her chest.
“Fuck,” she said, searching the floor for Roxy’s favorite spoon. She had to get this shit back in its leather pouch just the way Roxy liked it, or the jig would be up. After making certain the pouch was back in perfect order, she pulled on her bloody sock and shoved her sore foot into her tight boot.
Sasha smoothed back tangles of her dreadlocked hair, stashed Roxy’s pouch down the back of her pants, and left the bathroom. The tiny motel room didn’t seem so bad now. Earlier, Sasha considered setting the ripped curtains on fire. The chipped paint on the walls had grated her mind, and the stains on the floor disgusted her. But now, the place felt pretty cozy. It had everything Sasha needed. A bed with a beautiful woman sprawled atop it, and a fresh bag of china on the nightstand. If only she had a joint. Then this moment would be complete.
“Sorry, doll.” Sasha snuck the pouch from her waistband, slipped it into Roxy’s purse as she dropped onto the bed. “I was washing up.”
Roxy climbed on top of Sasha, straddling her lap. “Really?”
Sasha clutched onto the hips riding her. She got about two seconds of groping in before her arms were yanked away. Roxy pushed the sleeve up on Sasha’s right arm, then her left.
“What are you doing?” Sasha asked, leaning back against the headboard as the woman manhandled her.
“Looking for track marks.”
“I told you.” Sasha grabbed Roxy by the wrists, squeezing. Tingles still flowed through her blood. It was hard to glower when she yearned to giggle, but she managed to push out the next set of words between gritted teeth. “I don’t shoot.”
“I’d never forgive myself if you fell down this hole with me.” Roxy’s legs clung to Sasha like a vice, the woman’s entire body trembling. “It’s not too late for you, but if you boot you’ll never be able to stop. I want you to stop, baby.”
Sasha pulled Roxy to her chest. “Nobody’s booting shit.” Her hands glided up Roxy’s arms, slowing their quake. The shudder of Roxy’s bones stopped when Sasha slid her palms over the woman’s shoulders. “Relax, doll. It’s all good.”
Roxy’s mouth drew near, and Sasha lunged for it. Their lips connected, silencing the shouts from the room next door. Roxy’s eyes rolled around in her head, her body barely able to hold itself up, but the woman’s kiss remained hard.
A loud knock shook the motel’s door, and Roxy’s body grew stiff.
“Time’s up,” a man hollered through the door. “You whores need to pay for another hour or get the fuck out.”
“We’re leaving, dickwad,” Sasha yelled as Roxy climbed off the bed.
Sasha took one last second to enjoy the buzz circulating throughout her body, then stumbled to her feet. “Now what? It’s, like, two in the morning.”
“Let’s go back to your penthouse. Maybe if we crawl in bed with your old man, he’ll give in and fuck us.”
The thought brought a smile to Sasha’s lips. Dez hadn’t fucked her since she’d escaped her cell. They did have sex a month ago, but it wasn’t fucking. It was awkward. Dez flinched every time his hand touched a scar, and he kept asking if she was all right. She wasn’t all right. It was the only time she ever cried during sex, and Dez hadn’t touched her since.
Things could go different with Roxy at Sasha’s side. Two broken girls had to equal one whole woman. Together, they could distract Dez from their deformed flesh and actually get loved like real people.
“Yeah.” Sasha draped her arm around Roxy and headed for the door. “Let’s go molest my husband.”
***
The penthouse door creaked, and Roxy chuckled.
“Dammit, woman,” Sasha whispered. “You’re so fucking loud.”
“Me?” Roxy said in a hushed squeal. “You’re the one fucking with the door. It sounds like a bullhorn.”
A light clicked on in the living room. Roxy yelped, jumping behind Sasha as Vinny glared from the loveseat.
“That’s because it’s so quiet in here,” Vinny said, leaning forward in his chair.
“You scared the fuck out of me.” Sasha ignored Vinny’s hard stare and headed for the long couch beside the loveseat. “I’m glad you’re up.” She dropped onto the couch, stretching out. “You got a joint? I’m fucking dying to smoke a joint right now.”
“Dez is gone,” Vinny said, turning his glare from Sasha to Roxy. “Who the fuck is that?”
Roxy backed into the corner of the foyer, between a hole in the wall and the open front door.
“Shut that door, doll,” Sasha said. She dug through an ashtray of cigarette butts in search of a stray joint as the penthouse door clicked shut. “Where’d Dez go?”
“He split, for good.”
Sasha snickered, moving her search for weed to the end table. “Fuck Dez. If that pussy wants to roll, good riddance.”
“What about Tyler?” Vinny yelled, jumping to his feet. “You gonna say fuck Tyler too?”
“Tyler?” Sasha rose from the couch. She looked across the penthouse to find three wide open bedroom doors on the landing of the second floor. “That motherfucker can’t take my kid.”
Vinny grabbed Sasha by the arm, damn near crushing her bone with his tight grip. “What? Did you think Dez would leave a child here, alone, just hoping you’d come back?”
With a shove, Vinny released Sasha. She stumbled over her wobbly feet, crashed to her hands and knees on the gray carpet. “He can’t take my boy,” she said to the floor below. “I’ll track him down. Put a goddamn bullet in his head.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vinny shouted, balling his fists as he stared down at Sasha.
“Stop,” Roxy muttered, shrinking down in the corner. “Please.”
Sasha stayed on her knees, her glare caught on the fury that burned within Vinny’s eyes. “What’s wrong with me?” Rage surged within Sasha, so strong she could taste its bitter flavor. “I spent three months in the dark, in a room that sparkled and bled, with my mother’s eyes chasing me.”
Slowly, to avoid toppling, Sasha stood. Her chin lifted, gaze narrowing as she stared Vinny in the face. “You wanna know what’s wrong with me? I’m scared! Every second, of every day, I’m scared someone’s gonna take me. I close my eyes, and I’m scared they’ll open to a locked door.”
“I’m scared too.” Vinny latched onto the sides of Sasha’s arms. “I’m scared I’ll lose you again.”
Sasha fell against Vinny’s chest, hugged him tight. His strong arms wrapped around her, and the tears she’d been holding in broke free. Vinny should’ve hugged her before now. It would’ve been nice to have his embrace when she didn’t need it, instead of having to throw herself into his arms.
“So…” Sasha wiped her tears on Vinny’s shirt before she drew back from the refuge of his touch. “You got a joint, or what?”
***
Vinny
Smoke rose from the joint in Vinny’s mouth. He sat at the edge of the loveseat, watching Sasha roll doobie after doobie from his bag of weed. There was something off with Sasha. She wasn’t drunk, yet she could barely sit up straight. The girl definitely hadn’t smoked herself stupid. That wasn’t possible for a stoner of Sasha’s caliber. Still, something wasn’t right.
“Come here, babe,” Sasha said, glancing at her friend, who was still cowering in the corner.
This shit was too weird for Vinny. “What’s up with her?” he asked, nodding at the woman who crept toward Sasha’s side.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sasha snatched the joint from Vinny’s hand. “You freaked her the fuck out when we walked in.”
Vinny stared at the Spanish version of a Cyndi Lauper wannabe. The woman’s poufy skirt rustled as she hurried across the living room, showing off her long legs. Sasha sure did have great taste. The hips to waist to tits ratio was amazing. He couldn’t help but imagine that woman’s ass bouncing in his lap as he buried his face between her silky brown breasts.
“You like what you see?” Sasha asked through a snicker.
Vinny forced his stare to the floor, which made taking the joint from Sasha’s hand nearly impossible.
“Maybe,” Sasha said, slanting forward to catch Vinny’s gaze, “if you apologize for being a freak earlier, she’ll let you slide between those smooth legs of hers.”
A giggle flowed from the woman’s mouth, squeaky, sexy. The flaps of her jean jacket slipped open as she leaned back against the couch cushions.
“Oh damn,” Sasha said, taking the joint that Vinny completely forgot to hit. “I think Roxy likes you, Vinny.”
“Who is this guy?” Roxy asked, reaching for the joint in Sasha’s grasp.
“That’s my brother.”
“Gross,” Vinny said, lighting a fresh doobie from the pile Sasha left him. “Don’t call me that. It makes us sound…”
“Nasty,” Sasha said, flashing a wicked smile. “You feel all dirty cause you fucked your sister?”
“You’re not my sister!” Vinny took a deep breath. He was furious with his own body right now, especially his cock for getting hard at the crap rolling from Sasha’s lips. Sasha’s full, pouty lips.
“I’m married to your brother. That makes me your sister.”
“In law.” Vinny pointed his joint-filled fingers at Sasha’s smug face. “We ain’t blood kin.”
“Yeah, all right. I’ll give you that much.” Sasha crushed her stub of a roach out in the ashtray, grabbed a new joint from the pile, and rose from the couch in a bit of a wobble. “I gotta use the bathroom.” She looked at Roxy. “Gimme your purse.”
Roxy drew the large leather purse to her chest, hugged it like a baby. “Why?”
“Just give it.” Sasha yanked the bag from Roxy’s grasp and headed for the staircase.
“I’ll go with you,” Roxy said, jumping to her feet.
“No.” Sasha didn’t look back as she climbed the stairs but did wave her arm in Roxy’s direction. “You can go next.”
Vinny settled back on the loveseat, staring at Roxy frozen mid-step in front of the couch. The top of Roxy’s jean jacket hung low on her back, showing the tips of long, skinny scars. It looked like the woman had been whipped at some point in her life, a lot. And it all started to make sense. Sasha had found someone more frightened by the world than she was. It must give Sasha strength to be around Roxy, which was something Vinny could never strip away.
“Roxy, right?” Vinny asked, chuckling when the woman jumped. “It’s cool.” He gestured to the couch, then held out the joint. “I won’t bite.”
With her gaze locked on the banister of the stairs, Roxy walked past the couch and sat beside Vinny on the small sofa. Instead of reaching for the joint, she went straight for his belt.
“Whoa.” Vinny shooed Roxy’s hands from his pants, scooted away from her. “That’s…not how this works.”
“You don’t want a blowjob?” Roxy asked, her face a giant ball of confusion.
“Fuck yeah I want a blowjob.” Vinny handed the barely lit joint to Roxy, clicking his zippo to life for her. “But I want a blowjob from someone who wants to give me one, not someone who feels like they have to.”
Vinny didn’t think it possible, but the confusion in Roxy’s stare grew thicker. The woman really was gorgeous, in a mysterious wounded bird sort of way. A hint of cleavage spilled over the top of Roxy’s shirt as she hit the joint, and Vinny shifted in his seat. Sasha sure was taking her good-ole time in the bathroom. If that girl didn’t hurry, shit might start happening in this living room.
Chapter Four
Sasha
Sasha stepped out of the shower in her bathroom, wrapped herself in a towel. It had been so long since she’d washed. She forgot how great it felt, how light to be clean. Shampoo had done wonders for her hair, but that mop of a mess was too tangled to fuck with now.
She twisted her hair into a bun, glimpsing the new marks on her scarred foot. The rats had done a fine job of turning her toes to shreds, but the damages she’d inflicted with one thin needle was far worse. That last jab, five minutes ago, tore the skin open on the side of her right foot. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to start in on the left foot yet. Especially for such a small dose. She’d only taken half the amount she usually booted because of fucking Vinny. While that guy was around, she had to appear at least somewhat lucid.
The fog had begun to fade on the mirror, and Sasha turned away at the first hint of her reflection. She did not want to see that horror show. She’d never understand how anybody could stare at her, see the swollen red marks running along her cheeks and not vomit. It made her puke every time see saw her own face. That’s why she didn’t blame Dez for splitting. He was smart, knew how to dodge a bullet.
Smears of blood stained the white tile every place Sasha stepped. “This isn’t gonna work,” she mumbled, digging through the medicine cabinet. A smile lifted her cheeks when she spotted a tube of superglue, Dez’s favorite tool for sealing busted knuckles.
Sasha brought the tube of glue to her chest. She really fucking missed Dez. Not the strange dude who’d been smothering her the last few months. She missed the real Dez, the guy who put his fist through everything, the man who fucked her hard against a wall, gave her the strength to fight. That’s who she’d been longing for. The disappearance of that man was the reason she’d been slamming poison into her veins. She had to erase Dez from her mind, since the Dez she knew wouldn’t be coming back.
After dabbing a few globs of superglue atop the open wounds between her toes, Sasha left the bathroom. Her heart skipped at the sight of clean socks in her dresser drawer. Once she slipped those suckers on her feet, she tossed the blood-crusted ones in the trash, tightened the towel around her body, and opened the bedroom door.
Beyond the banister of glass and silver, in the living room below, Vinny lounged on the sofa beside Roxy. They looked so perfect together, cute. Roxy hid her scars well behind her layers of sparkly clothes, and Vinny wore his marks on the inside. The two of them made a good-looking couple. It was too bad for them, because her ugly, monster ass was about to burst into their love scene.
“Hey,” Sasha called out, and Roxy jumped to her feet. “Why don’t you guys grab a few joints and come up here? It’s more comfy.”
Roxy was halfway up the stairs before the first syllable left Sasha’s mouth. The woman scanned the bedroom the instant she walked inside, looking for her purse no doubt.
“It’s in the bathroom,” Sasha said, which sent Roxy into a skip toward the open bathroom door. “You can shower if you want.”
With a wink, Roxy shed her jacket and walked inside the bathroom. The woman didn’t bother to close the door. Sasha laid on the bed, watching Roxy strip off her tight halter top. The skirt dropped next. Roxy was a vision of beauty as she swayed her hips to music only she could hear, and they were such luscious hips.
Vinny walked across the
bedroom, his stare caught on the thin scars that decorated Roxy’s back. “What happened to her?”
“Close the door, Roxy,” Sasha called out. The bathroom door clicked shut, leaving only the shimmer of city lights from the wide windows to illuminate the room. Sasha didn’t care if Vinny ogled her girl, wasn’t offended when he asked about Roxy’s scars. Roxy had started digging into her purse. That woman would boot up in the middle of a church unless someone told her otherwise, and Vinny wasn’t ready to see something like that.
“Her father kept her tied up in a closet for ten years, raping her,” Sasha said, nonchalant, as if it were an everyday type of occurrence. In her life, her new life, that sort of shit actually was normal.
Vinny sat on the bed beside Sasha, lighting a joint. The towel slipped off Sasha’s leg as she propped onto her elbow, scooting closer to Vinny.
“Then,” Sasha said, taking the joint before Vinny could get a full hit. “Roxy ran away from foster care, ended up a whore. Her pimp liked to put cigarettes out on her body.”
“That’s all kinds of fucked up.” Vinny’s gaze stayed on the closed bathroom door. He looked pale, naïve, like a farm-boy plucked straight from the hills of Kentucky. “She tried to give me a blowjob,” he said, snatching the joint from Sasha’s grasp.
“Yeah.” Sasha rolled onto her back, caressed the one smooth spot on her stomach untouched by jagged marks. “Roxy likes doing that.”
“I don’t think she does.” Vinny took a long hit of the doobie, then looked at Sasha. “Did you tell her she had to?”
“No! I’d never do that.” Sasha didn’t know if she should be pissed at the jab or impressed by Vinny’s compassion toward a near stranger.
“Do you want me to fetch ya some clothes?” Vinny asked, darting his stare between Sasha’s bare skin and his feet.
