by Jamie Zakian
“I just saw the man I loved split open.” Ellen charged toward Sasha, hands on hips, glaring down. “I literally held his heart in my hands. And now you want me to marry Dante’s cousin, spit out babies. Girl, do you know how old I am?”
“Come on,” Sasha said, her stare bouncing between Vinny’s and her mother’s wide eyes. “Just brush the dust off your twat. You gotta have a few eggs left in there.”
“That’s fucking selfish, Sasha.” Ellen crossed her arms, shook her head. “Your kid’s too good for that life, but I can sacrifice mine?”
The statement was so ridiculous Sasha couldn’t even laugh at it. “Oh please. All you’ve ever wanted is one of your children at the head of the Lazzari table, right? Well, it ain’t gonna be me, and it ain’t gonna be my son. So if you don’t do this, you ain’t getting your way.”
“No.” Ellen took a step back from Sasha, her glare hard. “I’m not going back to the states.”
Sasha rose to her feet. Every movement ignited a sharp ache, but she stood tall in front of her mother. “I’m the underboss of the Lazzari family. The Don told me to bring you back, so I will be bringing you back. When you get to New York, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Ellen,” Vinny said, leaning forward in his seat. “I’ve never asked you for anything, but Dez has been raising the kid. Tyler’s not conditioned for this life, for these people.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Ellen said to the sky. Her stare lowered from the puffy clouds and narrowed on Sasha. “You let Dez rear the kid?”
“I was in a coma. And you ran off, so you don’t get a say.”
The steam ran out of Sasha’s sails, and she staggered on her feet. Her legs wobbled, the world taking a quick spin. She slumped back into her seat, groaning as a ripple of red-hot pinpricks ravaged her midsection.
“Are you gonna do it?” Vinny asked, looking up at Ellen with a giant puppy-dog stare.
“Of course I’m gonna do it.” Ellen dropped back into her chair with a huff. “It’s the motherfucking Lazzari family.” She grabbed a banana from the bowl of fruit on the table, tossed it at Sasha. “Eat this, you look like shit.”
Boots thumped from within the house. Sasha looked over her shoulder as Angelina walked onto the veranda.
“There you are,” Angelina said, standing in front of Sasha.
Sasha sat up straight, taking in the amazing sight of Angelina’s curvy hips confined by tight leather pants. “Goddamn, girl.” The sting in her side faded as a much hotter burn flared in the deepest parts of her soul. It had to be that skimpy halter top. The stretchy black fabric, flaunting cool bronze skin, crumbled her sorry-ass excuse for willpower and allowed a surge of desire to rush in.
“Where you been?” Sasha asked, forcing her hands to keep at her sides. “You look…fucking incredible.”
Sasha glanced at Vinny, finding a somewhat curious expression. The shrug of her shoulders and scrunch of her brow had to announce her guilt, yet Vinny smiled and nodded. Hell, it looked like he might pat her on the back.
“I have a gift for you.” Angelina waved her arm, and a butler-looking dude scuttled forward with a silver platter. He lifted the shiny lid, displaying a severed head.
Vinny jumped back, shaking the seat, and Sasha leaned forward. Her first instinct was to touch it. The face, frozen in a silent cry of terror, looked so fake. The blood seemed too bright, its skin far too droopy.
“It’s Tito,” Angelina said. She grabbed the head by its blood-clumped hair. A squish erupted as she lifted it slightly off the tray. “He’s very sorry for all the trouble he’s caused.”
“That’s umm…” Sasha stared at the frayed ends of puffy skin, which dripped blood onto the silver platter. “Am I supposed to keep it?”
“Do you want to keep it?” Angelina asked, lifting Tito’s head higher.
“No.”
The head slopped back onto the tray, and Angelina wiped her hands on her butler man’s coat. “Feed it to the dogs,” she said, shooing the man away. She sat in the chair across from Sasha, without a glance at Ellen or Vinny. “The Llamada de la Muerte is no more. It seems I have a lot of new territory to cover, almost more than I alone can handle.”
Of all the offers Sasha had received in her life, this was the most tempting. Only a fool would pass on an opportunity to live in a tropical paradise, with a smoking-hot woman, in a land where laws didn’t exist. In which case, Sasha was a goddamn idiot. New York City was her home now, and she couldn’t wait to get back into that concrete jungle.
“I don’t think you’ll have any problems handling your shit,” Sasha said, eyeing the row of blood-tipped knives strapped to Angelina’s leather pants.
“Your man,” Angelina nodded at Vinny but kept her gaze on Sasha, “is stupid, using his real name to fly into my airport.”
A coldness filled Angelina’s eyes, almost masking the tiny sliver of compassion that hid within. Almost.
“Thank you,” Sasha said, and Angelina smiled. Confusion gripped both Vinny and Ellen, but Sasha knew how close Vinny had come to eating a bullet. If Vinny had disappeared in this brutal country, on some bullshit mission to save her dumbass, she’d be devastated. Living in the places where Vinny had lived wouldn’t have been possible. She would’ve ran into Angelina’s arms, jumped headfirst into the girl’s gangster-life fantasy. Angelina was smart for picking up on that minor weakness. The girl was even smarter for not enacting the plan, because now Sasha craved that bitch more than she ever had before.
“Las cosas cambian,” Sasha said with a slight smirk. “You never know, doll.”
“Si.” Angelina rose to her feet, heading for the house. “Will you be staying, so you can find ways to repay me for my heroic rescue? Or should I have the boat prepared?”
Vinny ripped his gaze from Angelina to stare at Sasha with pleading eyes. She chuckled, until the burn on her side turned her laugh into a groan.
“I have to get back,” Sasha said, staring out at the stretch of water that stood between her and her home.
“That’s what I thought,” Angelina said from the back door. “I already had the boat gassed up. It’s ready when you are, amor.”
The wicker bench shifted as Vinny leaned close to Sasha. His arms circled her chest, warm breath flowing over her ear. “Can’t we stay for a little bit. I wanna roll in that white sand with you, when you’re all better.”
To lay in Vinny’s arms atop soft sands, with warm water rushing up to kiss her feet, sounded like pure bliss. Anything could happen between this moment and the one where they walk into Fat Tonys. She may never have another chance to fuck her man on a beach in Mexico.
“Guess we can stay for a few days,” she said, running her fingers into Vinny’s tangled hair.
The End
Epilogue
One year later
Sasha stood in Central Park, feeling like a complete dumbass. Couples sat on checkered blankets, giggling at each other’s bullshit, and she was about to be one of those assholes.
“Why are we doing this?” Sasha asked as Vinny spread an ugly plaid blanket out on the grassy hill. She hugged a small basket to her chest, as if that would somehow shield her from what was to come.
“Don’t be weird,” Vinny said, stretching out on the blanket.
Sasha dropped the basket, plopped down beside Vinny. “You’re being weird, wanting to have picnics in the park. It’s strange.”
As usual, Vinny ignored her rantings and groped her body. “So, what’d ya bring?”
A wide smile spanned Sasha’s lips. She flipped open the lid to the basket, sinking her fingers into the pile of joints within. A nice big fatty fell into her grasp, its smooth paper tickling her skin. She lifted the doobie from the basket, held it up in front of Vinny’s eyes.
“You just brought weed?”
“No, stupid.” Sasha reached into the basket and pulled out two frosty bottles. “I got beer too.”
A devious grin lit Vinny’s eyes in blue flames. He pulled Sasha close, tak
ing a beer from her hand. “Spark it up,” he said, snapping his zippo to life.
Sasha leaned back against Vinny’s chest. A cool spring breeze flowed over her skin as they puffed and passed. A picnic in the park was actually a great idea, though she’d never admit it out loud. With Dez and Jeri in the penthouse next to their own, and Tyler running back and forth every minute, it seemed like ages since they’d sat in silence just enjoying some kind bud.
“How about that one?” Vinny asked, pointing at a tall blonde chick walking her dog on the trail. “The way she struts…she’d be a wild one in the sack.”
“Too skinny,” Sasha said, taking a sip of her beer. “I like curves on my women.”
A chuckle shook the chest behind Sasha’s back, and Vinny dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
“I know what you like,” he whispered, his breath spreading tingles in every spot it grazed along the side of her neck. His hands slid under her shirt, and he caressed the long scar on her stomach. She was running out of unmarred skin. Her entire body looked like a fucking patch quilt, but Vinny didn’t seem to notice. He pawed at her just as much as ever, maybe more, and it didn’t bother her one bit.
“You like that one,” Vinny said, gesturing to a young Latino woman sitting alone on a bench. The way the chick clung to her ratty backpack, flinching at every laugh, struck a nerve with Sasha. If she didn’t have Vinny at her side, she could be just another lost, lonely girl on a park bench.
“She looks hungry,” Sasha said, staring up into Vinny’s eyes. “I bet she’d be mighty grateful to get a hot meal and a warm bed for the night.”
Vinny glided his thumb along Sasha’s cheek. “Why don’t you go over there and fetch her?”
“I got the last one. It’s your turn.”
“No.” Vinny guided Sasha’s back onto the blanket, eased between her legs. “I brought that coat-check girl to you last week.”
Sasha grinded against Vinny, dragging her lips along his mouth. “And I seduced her right out of her tight dress for you.”
“Mommy,” a high-pitched, very Tyler-sounding voice called out.
“Tyler?” Sasha pushed Vinny off of her as Tyler ran beside their blanket. “What are you doing here, little man?”
“Daddy brought me.” Tyler pointed across the grassy hill, at Dez standing beside a black sedan. “Grandma broke her water.”
“So,” Sasha said, sitting up. “She can go get another one.”
“But Uncle Otis said you have to come. Now.”
Sasha stared at Tyler, fidgeting like a frog on a hotplate. “Wait. You mean Grandma’s water broke?”
“Duh,” Tyler said, glaring as if Sasha were dense.
“Shit!” Sasha jumped to her feet, tugging at Vinny’s arm. “My mama’s having the baby. We gotta go.”
Vinny hopped to his feet, started jogging up the hill, then doubled back for the blanket. Sasha and Tyler stood next to each other, heads cocked to one side, watching Vinny bumble around like a chicken without a head. There were only two things in front of him; and still, he couldn’t figure out whether to grab the blanket or the basket first.
“I got this,” Tyler said. He snatched the blanket off the grass, wrapping it around his neck like a cape. With a smile and a wink, he took off in a sprint up the hill. “Come on, y’all,” he hollered over the flutter of the blanket, which glided on the air behind his scrawny legs.
Sasha picked the basket off the ground and took Vinny by the arm. “Let’s go meet the new prince of the Lazzari family.”
“After Ellen pops out that baby,” Vinny said, pulling Sasha close. “We should grab our kid and head to Mexico.”
“That’s an idea,” Sasha said, chewing back a smirk. “But, we might need to bring a sitter. I promised Angelina I’d check out this donkey thing.”
Vinny hurled a leery stare, and Sasha pulled a joint from behind her ear. She sparked it up, snugging Vinny’s arm as they followed Tyler up the hill.
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Acknowledgements
This book, and the entire Ashby Holler series, wouldn’t have been possible if not for so many amazing people.
First and foremost, I need to acknowledge how awesome my readers are. It’s the comments and reviews from you guys that keep me trucking down this bumpy road called publishing.
I’d really like to thank everybody at Limitless Publishing. The marketing team, my incredible editor Tiffany Cole, Lori, the cover designers, and everyone else has made me feel valued and like a part of their family.
Speaking of family, mine are real troopers. There are a lot of ups and downs in publishing, and my family has been there to support me through good times and bad.
My critique partner, Kaelan Rhywiol, is not only a ridiculously talented author, but my rock in rough seas. She always believes in me, even when I don’t, and never fails to deliver a swift kick in the ass when I get too mopey.
The support in the online writing community is so vast, there are just too many people to thank. So I’m sending out big hugs to all my #amwriting #amediting #writerslife friends.
While this is the final book in the Ashby Holler series, it’s not the last you’ll be seeing from me.
-xoxo
About the Author
Jamie Zakian lives in South Jersey with a rowdy bunch of dudes, also known as family. A YA/NA writer, her head is often in the clouds while her ears are covered in headphones. On the rare occasions when not writing, she enjoys blazing new trails on her 4wd quad or honing her archery skills. She’s a card carrying member of the Word Nerd Association, which means she’s probably stalking every Twitter writing competition and offering query critiques so keep an eye out.
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/demoness333
Website:
http://www.jamiezakian.com/
