Missing Pieces (Ashby Holler Book 3)

by Jamie Zakian

  “You tell me,” Vinny snickered. “You’ve been Ellen’s little bitch for how long?”

  That wiped the cocky smirk right off Dante’s ugly face. For a second, Vinny thought the guy might lunge at him. Dante didn’t do shit. Just like a pussy would do, Dante sunk back into the couch cushions.

  The men slouched around the penthouse stood up straight, the clink of their guns filling the room. Vinny peeked over his shoulder as Sasha trotted down the stairs, followed by her sexy friend. The color had returned to Sasha’s cheeks, a bit pinker than usual actually. To see her fully dressed, head high, walking instead of wobbling brought a smile to Vinny’s lips. Then it sparked a scowl. He’d just spent three days trying to bring the old Sasha back, and this bad-ass gangster chick had done it in twenty minutes.

  “We’re leaving,” Carmen said, and her men crowded around her as she headed for the front door. “Grab that pinche puto,” she said, pointing at Dante.

  “Sasha?” Dante yelled as Carmen’s men yanked him off the couch.

  “I’m working on it, asshole.” Sasha kept her gaze off Dante, yet anger still flared in her eyes. It was goddamn beautiful, like she was alive again.

  Vinny grinned, waved at Dante as he was roughly dragged out the front door. “Later, fucking pussy.”

  The hoard of Mexican gangsters filed out of the penthouse, the thump of their boots fading down the hall. Sasha closed the door then walked into the kitchen.

  “So?” Vinny asked, leaning on the couch’s arm to peer into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

  Glass clinked, the refrigerator door slammed shut, and Sasha walked back into the living room with two bags of frozen vegetables. She tossed one to Kev then sat next to Vinny, holding the other one against the cut above his eye.

  “Sorry about all that.”

  “Your ex-girlfriend is crazy, in a seriously hot way.” Vinny leaned close to Sasha, brought his lips to her ear. “Any chance for a three-way with that one?”

  Sasha chuckled. “She’s not my ex. Carmen is our old buyer from Little Rock, and I don’t think she’d be down for a threesome.”

  Kev knelt in front of the coffee table, breaking out a joint. “You guys been having threesomes?” He twisted the buds, licked the paper, and popped the doobie in his mouth. “With chicks, I hope?”

  Vinny ignored Kev’s stupid smile and looked at Sasha. “What does she want, for Dante?”

  Sasha snatched the joint from Kev’s mouth, took a big hit. “The same thing everybody wants. A seat at Otis’s table.”

  “I got one of those,” Kev said, reaching for the joint and getting a palm to the face. “And it ain’t done me no good.” Instead of attempting to wrangle the doobie from Sasha’s grasp, a battle he’d most likely lose, Kev started rolling another joint. “Being a mobster isn’t fun at all. Movies are fucking liars.”

  Kev lit his second joint, and Vinny plucked it from the man’s fingers before it could reach his lips.

  “You guys suck,” Kev yelled, heading back to the table and the dwindling pile of green buds.

  “Otis hates me.” Sasha sunk down on the couch, curled her legs beneath her. “He’ll never take a meeting with me.”

  “You think Ellen’s really alive?” Kev asked through a cloud of smoke, from the only one of three bones he’d twisted.

  The look on Sasha’s face made Vinny’s heart skip a beat. He’d seen hate, lust, love, but this gaze left him breathless. A sliver of the old fire that once lit Sasha’s eyes shined through. It was only a shimmer but still strong enough to vibrate the air around her, lift all the tiny hairs on his arms.

  “I’ll talk to Otis.” Vinny reached over the arm of the couch and grabbed the phone. He’d rat himself out, face judgement for going behind the Don’s back, if it rekindled the blaze inside Sasha. “But I’m only setting a meeting.” He stopped mid-dial, glanced at Sasha. “You’re gonna have to tell him about Ellen and all that business with the sexy, crazy, gangster chick.”

  ***

  Sasha

  Kev practically jumped at Sasha’s grub request, so she added beer and cigarettes to the list. He seemed more than happy to go, almost ran out the door. The dude must’ve been trapped inside this penthouse for as long as her. Judging by the amount of empty Chinese food cartons, overflowing ashtrays, and drained whiskey bottles, she’d guess longer.

  Vinny hung up the phone, muttered a jumble of fucks and shits beneath his breath. Otis must’ve shot Vinny down. Oh well. Fuck her plans. Fuck Dante. And fuck Otis. Sasha didn’t need the Don of the Lazzari family to find her mother. Honestly, it couldn’t take that long to kick open every single door in every country of the world.

  “Otis won’t talk to me, will he?”

  “He’s coming here,” Vinny said in a grim tone. His shoulders sunk into a slump as he walked back to the couch.

  “That’s good, right?”

  Vinny plopped onto the cushions beside Sasha. “He said he’ll be here in an hour. It’s a ten-minute drive. That means he’s gathering a crew.”

  “To what, whack us?” Sasha said through a snicker. Vinny didn’t laugh. Not even a hint of a smile cracked his straight lips. “Well, damn. I guess power went straight to his head.”

  “I should’ve told him about Ellen.” Vinny squirmed, holding himself tight. “I just…couldn’t.”

  More than ever, Sasha wanted to dive into Vinny’s arms. It was so much more than the crinkle of his brow, or the pout on his lips, that spawned a deep ache for his touch. Vinny had pulled her from darkness. She’d been screaming for rescue, acting out to see if anybody gave a fuck. Of course it was him, and she was a goddamn fool. This time, her need to push boundaries almost cost her everything. It almost cost her herself.

  “What?” Vinny asked, leaning back to better glare at Sasha.

  “What?” Sasha wiped her face clear, in case a hint of puppy love lingered.

  “You’re looking at me strange.”

  Sasha grinned. She’d been busted hurling googly eyes, and it didn’t even bother her one bit. “I just really…” She ran her hand up Vinny’s arm, glided her palm along his chest. “I…umm…”

  Vinny wrapped his arms around Sasha. His body pressed against her chest, drove her back into the couch cushions. Then, in a rush that sucked the air from her lungs, he kissed her. His tight grip shuddered her bones, and the feeling of his teeth nibbling her bottom lip spread tingles. She didn’t think it was possible to feel this good without a spike to the vein. Holy fucking shit was she wrong. Only now, after staggering along the thin line of life and death, did she get what it meant to be truly alive. It was like she’d been living under a sheet of ice, watching the world pass by in a blurry chill, until Vinny’s fiery clutch broke her out and warmed her soul.

  “I love you too,” Vinny said, kissing her cheek, neck, chest.

  “Wait.” Sasha grabbed Vinny’s arm, which stopped his battle with her flannel shirt.

  “I’m sorry,” Vinny muttered, moving off Sasha. “I thought you wanted to—”

  “No.” Sasha took Vinny by the hand, pulled him back on top of her. “I do, it’s just…Kev said you had me tested. Do I have something?”

  “It was the doc’s idea. I didn’t think you were hooking or anything.”

  Sasha snickered as images of her, and her switchblade, attempting to hook ran through her mind. In her version, it was more of a robbery than a sex thing. “I don’t care about that. I just don’t want to give you anything. You’re too good to be dirty, like me.”

  “You’re clean,” Vinny said, running his thumb along the scars on her cheek. “On the outside.” He kissed the tight patch of scars near her chin. “And every part of your insides.” His soft lips moved down her neck as he unbuttoned her flannel shirt. He ran his tongue along her breast, grazing her nipple, and a gasp slipped from her mouth. “You’re clean, beautiful, and all mine.”

  Vinny stopped tugging at Sasha’s belt and looked up into her eyes. “For the next forty-five minutes at least
.”

  ***

  A knock rattled the penthouse door just as a surge of ecstasy ran through Sasha. “Coming,” she yelled, which wasn’t exactly a lie. Vinny thrust deep inside her, setting off an explosion of tingles. His body quaked, a low moan slipped from his lips, and Sasha giggled.

  “Get off, bro,” she said through a snicker, pushing Vinny off her. “Otis is here.” She squirmed out from beneath his solid, sweaty body and grabbed her pants from the floor. There was no time to fuck with her bra and tank top, so she kicked them under the couch and tossed on her flannel. While buttoning her shirt, she headed for the door.

  “You good?” she asked in a whisper, glancing back at Vinny. He nodded, hurrying to fasten his belt while jamming his feet into his boots.

  Sasha looked at her bare feet, covered in scabs and bruises. Those ugly marks were a part of her now. She wasn’t going to hide them, and Otis could go fuck himself if he didn’t like it. Her throat sealed shut as she reached for the deadbolt. A hammer pounded her heart when her fingertips grazed metal. She swallowed the bitter taste of fear and opened the door.

  Otis narrowed his hard stare at the first sight of Sasha, and she almost hugged the man. Sure, he looked like a phony in a seersucker suit instead of his usual blue jeans and Led Zeppelin shirt, but his glower was the same. It was disappointment, relief, and a fuck-ton of rage. It was the look he reserved for those he loved. He still loved her.

  “Thank you for coming,” Sasha said, stepping aside to allow Otis inside. A group of armed mobsters didn’t follow Otis into the penthouse. Sasha peeked into the hallway, finding only Kev with a grease-soaked paper bag from the burger joint up the block. “You didn’t bring a crew?” she asked, turning to face Otis.

  “I’m not here to whack you guys,” Otis said, shaking his head.

  Kev walked inside the penthouse, and Vinny grabbed the bag of food from his hand. “Where the fuck you been?” Vinny peeked inside the bag, cringed, then shoved it back into Kev’s hands.

  “Hanging in the hallway,” Kev muttered, his stare low. “There was…sounds.”

  Vinny grumbled beneath his breath. He pulled Kev inside the penthouse and slammed the door shut.

  Sasha sat at the dining room table, motioned for Otis to join her.

  Otis pulled out the chair across from Sasha. A huff flew from his mouth as he dropped into the seat. “If this is about what happened the other night—”

  “No.” Sasha kept her stare soft and fixed on Otis. “You did the right thing. That was my stupid fucking mess. I’m glad you didn’t sacrifice the business for my fuck-up.” Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach for Otis, but she held her hands in her lap. “And I’m sorry. My behavior’s been…I’ve been—”

  “If this isn’t about the other night, then why did you call me here?”

  Sasha took a deep breath, but it did nothing to soothe the burn in her chest. Craziness was about to spew from her mouth. This shit was hard to believe, even for her, and she really wanted to believe it. “There’s a good possibility my mother is still alive.”

  Otis sat up straight. He glared at Vinny, groaned, then turned his stare back to Sasha. “I don’t know what these two assholes have been telling you to get you sober, but your mother is definitely dead.”

  “You remember Miguel’s crew, from Little Rock?”

  “Yeah, Los Lobos,” Otis said, nodding. “He ate a bullet last year.”

  “His daughter, Carmen, is running the show now.” Sasha sat back, studying Otis’s face. Any second now, his lid would flip, and it’d been a long time since she’d witnessed that hilarious event. “Dante showed up in her hood, stirred up a shit-load of trouble. So Carmen, and a bunch of her men, brought Dante to me, asking for permission to kill him.”

  “When did this happen?” Otis asked, clenching his fist. The guy looked pissed, and he had a right to be. Not only had some out-of-town crew stomped on his turf, but Dante was a Lazzari. He might have been a Lazzari with a bounty on his head, but that didn’t matter in the mobster world.

  “A few hours ago,” Sasha said.

  “I don’t see blood painting your walls,” Otis said in a sneer. “I can’t imagine you’d deny that request.”

  “I didn’t, but the fucking asshole threw a curve ball.” Sasha slid her hands under the table. They wouldn’t stop shaking. Her body was aching for a hit to ease the tension so she could deal, even though her mind wanted nothing to do with the drug. “Dante said he helped Ellen fake her death, and he told the Mancinis how. Then they did it to me.”

  The color drained from Otis’s face. It looked like the dude might puke, or pass out. “A shotgun blast to the face and two to the chest,” he muttered, almost to himself. His gaze veered straight to Vinny. The nod Otis received didn’t do the trick, and he shifted his stare to Kev only to get a shrug.

  “Where is Dante?” Otis all but growled, squirming in his seat.

  “The Los Lobos has him. They’re willing to make a trade.”

  Otis snickered, his head shaking. “There’s only ever been Italian families at the table, Sasha. If I bring in Mexican gangsters to run a borough, the other families will butcher me. They’ll butcher us all.”

  Sasha couldn’t argue with that. These city men were tolerant, but only when it came to their own kind. “Carmen is sensible. Maybe you can offer her something smaller. There’s that money laundering outfit in Chicago. Just give her that.”

  Otis snorted, stared at Sasha as if she’d just grown two heads. “And what should I do with the Bassini brothers, send ‘em pink slips?”

  “I don’t know.” Sasha grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the table, popped one in her mouth. “They’re douchebags, take ‘em out.”

  Otis clicked his zippo to life and held out the flame for Sasha. “That kind of shit starts wars.” Smoke wafted from the cigarette in Sasha’s mouth, and he flipped the lid to his lighter closed. “Arrange a meeting with this Carmen woman. Just her, in my restaurant. Tonight.”

  Sasha nodded, and Otis rose from his chair. He took a step, paused, and turned to face Sasha. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  Those four little words were equivalent to one giant hug, which wrapped around Sasha tight. The second Otis looked away, she let her smile flow. Then Kev filled her view. The dude looked like a red-headed stepchild who just got included in a family photo for the first time, which wiped the grin right off Sasha’s lips.

  “What the fuck are you smiling at?” she barked, glaring at Kev as she headed for the phone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sasha stood on the sidewalk outside of Fat Tonys. Frosty air cut between the tall buildings, broke through her shirt to nip at her skin. She rocked in place, rubbed her hands together, but couldn’t shake the night’s wintery breeze from her bones.

  “It’s motherfucking cold,” she said, glancing at Vinny. He lit a cigarette and handed it to her, as if that would somehow keep her warm.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, taking a long drag. Nicotine shot through her system, actually chasing away a fraction of the chill, and she snickered through her exhale.

  The scene outside of Fat Tonys was a goddamn spectacle. It looked like a block party for rednecks in mobster costumes and tatted up Mexican gangsters. Except, instead of shooting the shit with each other, they all continually peeked through the window of the restaurant.

  Otis and Carmen seemed quite cozy, chilling in the heat, chatting over half-eaten plates of pasta while clinking their wine glasses together.

  “This looks promising,” Kev said, breathing into his hands to keep warm.

  “They’re probably toasting Dante’s death,” Sasha grumbled.

  Vinny turned his glare off the crowd of gangsters in front of him to leer at Sasha. “You really care if Dante dies?”

  “I want to find my mother so I can punch her in the fucking face.” Sasha tossed her cigarette to the ground, just as a man in a suit strolled by. The guy clutched his briefcase close, stumbled into the street to avoid
the crowd of Mexicans who hadn’t even noticed him.

  “Keep going,” Sasha yelled as the guy tripped on his own feet while gawking at the men on the sidewalk. “You fucking mook.”

  The men stopped whispering in Spanish. They turned to follow Sasha’s glare and the guy yelped like a little bitch, then scurried across the street.

  Sasha chuckled. “Estúpido ciudad maricón,” she said, and Carmen’s men snickered.

  “What’d you say,” Kev asked in a hush.

  “She called that guy a faggot,” Vinny said, gesturing to the man who ran down the sidewalk on the other side of the street.

  Sasha spun to face Vinny. “You learned Spanish?”

  “Only the dirty words.” He winked. A grin spread across his lips, and Sasha almost kissed him. Jesus fuck! She needed to get as far away from Vinny as possible, before she left his life in tatters. Like she did to Dez, Tyler, her mother; like she did to every woman who dared to love her.

  The door to Fat Tonys opened, Carmen and Otis stepped outside, and every person crowded on the sidewalk turned to stare at them.

  “Obtener el gilipollas,” Carmen said, and her men hurried to the black van parked at the curb. Its sliding door clunked open, and Dante was shoved out of the back of the van.

  Sasha couldn’t help but smile. To see her dear old dad stumbling on the sidewalk, his hands tied behind his back, a dark hood covering his head, was such a lovely gift. She’d have to find a way to thank Otis. Maybe bake him a cake, after she washed Dante’s blood off her hands.

  Vinny grabbed Dante by the arm, pulled him toward the double doors of Fat Tonys. “I bet you ain’t smiling now, fucker.”

  “Thank you,” Sasha said, holding her hand out to Carmen.

  Carmen brushed Sasha’s hand aside, slinked so close their chests pressed together. “No. Thank you, mama,” she whispered into Sasha’s ear.

  With a sly smile, Carmen drifted away. Sasha watched the woman stroll to her awaiting van. Whatever the fuck the fabric was called that made-up Carmen’s tight pants, Sasha didn’t know. Didn’t care. To her, it was magic, perfection, goddamn divine. That sparkly, stretchy material showed every curve of Carmen’s ass, accentuated her swaying hips, and flaunted the muscles of her long legs. It really wasn’t that cold outside anymore. In fact, Sasha was a bit hot.