by Jamie Zakian
Vinny snickered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Dez, but as soon as she’s better I’m stealing her back from you.”
“Excuse me!”
Tyler looked over from the couch, and Dez forced his fists to unclench. Beating his brother’s face, here, right now, would only destroy the scraps of love Sasha held for him. He knew it. The smirk on Vinny’s face told him that asshole knew it too, which had to be the motive behind this baiting session.
Dez took a step toward Vinny, and Vinny crossed his arms all smug-like, pretty much asking for a punch. Rage surged but Dez choked it down, attempting a soft glare. “If we start fighting over her, we’ll both lose her.”
“I won’t share Sasha, not anymore.”
“Ha! Awesome.” Dez plopped his ass at the kitchen table, lighting a cigarette. He had absolutely nothing to worry about. Sasha hated being smothered and loved the ladies. Any dude who wouldn’t share her was doomed. He’d learned that the hard way. “Do your thing, asshole. You’ll chase her away faster than a coyote empties a henhouse. You’re the one who doesn’t know her very well. She can’t be owned, not by a man.”
Vinny’s jaw dropped but cocky words failed to flow. Only a bastard would be happy to see his little brother look so crushed, which must make Dez a bastard because he was ecstatic.
Dez’s bedroom door creaked open, and Otis walked out. The man looked like he just left a room full of ghosts, with his pale complexion and the way he raced down the stairs. Dez jumped up from his chair, damn near chasing Otis as he made a beeline for the front door.
“Hey!” Dez called out, knocking Otis’s hand from the doorknob. “What happened?”
Otis rubbed his brow, but his wide eyes only grew wider. “She’s gonna be fine. Just treat her like normal. The more you spark the fires inside her, the faster it’ll burn that shit from her brain.”
“So what, I should go up there and start a fight with her?” Dez asked, hating himself for actually liking the idea. He’d do it. He’d do anything to glimpse that flare in her eyes.
“You don’t have to be a dick,” Otis said, opening the door. “Just don’t be a pussy.”
Dez leaned back as Otis stormed into the hall, slamming the door behind him. “I ain’t no fucking pussy,” he muttered, and Vinny shrugged.
***
Sasha
Sasha crept toward the mirror. The bandages on her feet rustled the carpet, blocking the soft fibers from tickling her toes. She’d stolen glances but hadn’t full-on gawked at herself, until now. Her face wasn’t as bad as she expected. It only looked like someone took hedge clippers to her cheek and not a chainsaw, which is what it felt like. Although her mind screamed no, her eyes wanted to see more.
She reached for the knot of her robe when the door creaked open behind her. In the mirror’s edge, she glimpsed a little head poke inside then a big goofy smile.
“Tyler.” Sasha spun from the mirror, and Tyler crept into the room.
“Mama? Is that you?”
“Yeah, baby.” Sasha rushed forward and Tyler scurried back, crashing against the wall. The fright in the boy’s eyes rooted her in place. A shredded face on a ghost mom was definitely the worst thing a person could see, this she knew.
While slipping her bandaged fingers inside the sleeves of her robe, she knelt down. “Can I hug you?”
Tyler ran into Sasha’s arms, nearly toppling her to the ground. His tiny body pressed against her own, and the horrors wiped from her mind. “My baby.” She pulled Tyler onto her lap, the warmth of his very essence overshadowing any pain his weight caused.
“Have you been scrapin’?” Tyler asked, running his little finger along a wide gash on Sasha’s cheek. “You look like you been scrapin’.”
Sasha tore her lips from Tyler’s head long enough to say, “Scrapin’?”
“I went to a huge farm.” Tyler pulled back from Sasha’s tight hug, holding a serious glare. “Uncle Kev put me in a big hole in the ground with a mask man, but there was a TV so it wasn’t all bad. I met uncle Kev’s mama and she knew you, said you was a scraper.”
A long chuckle rolled from Sasha’s chest, taking about ten pounds of hurt with it. “Sounds like you had one hell of an adventure.”
“Yeah. Is that what happened to you too?”
It could’ve been. Every horrid memory, for her entire life, fell under a cloak of warm fuzz the instant Tyler’s body snuggled into her arms. All her thoughts went to him. She needed to know him, wanted to hear the crazy shit he babbled on about.
“Yeah, little dude. That’s exactly what happened to me.”
Sasha planted her lips atop Tyler’s head, and that’s where they stayed the entire time as he rambled on about some guitar.
The End
Epilogue
Sasha walked into the Pink Kitty, and the half-naked hostess hurried forward to shove those big tits in her face. A fifty to the cleavage got Sasha a tongue down the throat and an escort to her favorite stool at the end of the bar. For the past week, this strip club had been her sanctuary. It was the only place where large men who could knock her ass out and toss her in a cell if they so wished didn’t surround her. There was no threat in here. Just beautiful women, fragile creatures circling a pole. She could drop every one of these bitches with ease, which brought on a sense of security. It almost let her believe she was Sasha Lazzari.
“Back again,” the brunette who liked hairspray a bit too much whispered in Sasha’s ear. “You here for me?”
Actually, Sasha had come for the blonde twirling around the pole, but this one would do. “I sure am, sunshine.”
The chick giggled. City girls always giggled at her accent. She cringed at theirs. A hand landed on Sasha’s thigh and she flinched, almost scaring the stripper off.
“Your man, or your daddy?” the chick asked, sitting on the stool beside Sasha.
“What?”
“Someone worked you over. A girl only lets her man or her daddy hurt her that much.”
That sounded about right. Add a devious mother to the mix and this stripper would be right on the money. Big surprise.
“Maybe I did this to myself.”
“No, you didn’t.” The woman snickered, eyeing the scabs that peeked above Sasha’s low hanging tank top. “I have a little something that’ll help with the…jumpiness. You want to take me to the champagne room?”
“Sure.”
After shelling out five hundred bucks, Sasha followed a curvy ass up the stairs to a private room of couches. The chick pushed Sasha on a loveseat, hopped in her lap, then pulled a small paper pouch from her boot. While riding Sasha slow, she scooped a pile of white powder into her long pinky nail.
“No coke for me,” Sasha said. “I’ve got enough trouble sleeping.”
“It’s not coke. It’s china, H.”
“Heroin?” Sasha asked, slanting back.
“Yeah.”
Sasha shook her head, pushing the chick’s hand away. “I don’t shoot.”
“You don’t have to shoot, just take a little toot,” she said through a smirk, snorting the powder up her nose. The second she inhaled, her body went loose and her thin bikini top came off.
“What does it do to you?” Sasha asked, leaning into the hard nipples that rubbed against her chest.
“It makes me forget my daddy kept me locked in a closet for ten years to rape me whenever he wanted.”
That was pretty fucking hardcore. If that junk could make this girl forget all that and let her feel a hint of the ecstasy her face displayed, it might be worth a try. After all, how much harm could one hit do?
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Acknowledgements
Blood and Tears is a difficult story to get through, much like most lives, which is why I’d like to acknowledge anyone who has ever suffered from abuse. Abuse victims carry their trauma with them every second of every day, strengthening their reflexes yet weakening their souls. To everyone who has suffered the injustices of hate, please know you are strong, beautiful, and a survivor.
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/
