by Jamie Zakian
“Sasha brought her home on the last run,” Dez said, pointing the tip of his blade to the woman taped to a chair.
“So you decided to torture the bitch?”
“I caught her in here, going through your desk. She had your gas logs and maps. She’s a fed. I heard her on the phone.” Dez dragged his blade along the woman’s cheek, and she cried out, squirming in her chair. “Rebecca Prescott, agent 5327,” he sneered.
“No,” the woman sniveled. “My name’s Misty Jeffers. Ask Sasha. She knows me.”
Ellen turned from the swollen eyes that pleaded up at her, staring at Dez. “Are you sure about this?”
“Positive,” Dez said, the knife trembling in his hand. “I heard it, Ellen.”
The regret on Dez’s face spoke louder than his words. He knew what this meant for Sasha, how she’d be punished. Oh, how that girl would be punished.
“Where’s Sasha?” Vinny asked, pacing in the doorway.
“She left,” Dez called out, his glare locked on the woman whimpering in a chair, “about twenty minutes ago.”
Vinny stomped across the clubhouse, staring out the front windows. “She could be back any second.”
Ellen snatched the knife from Dez’s hand. “And I’ll deal with Sasha when she gets here.” She placed the tip of the blade under the woman’s fingernail, pressing lightly.
“No, please don’t.”
“What’s your name, honey?” Ellen asked in the softest tone her fuming body could muster.
“Mist—”
Ellen jabbed the knife forward, peeling the woman’s nail from her flesh. The scream that followed filled Ellen’s mind with rage. She stepped back, glancing at Dez. “Hit her.”
Dez’s large fist rocked the side of the woman’s face, teetering the chair before it slammed back on its legs. The woman’s eyes rolled back, and Ellen slapped her across the cheek, holding the knife to her neck.
“You’re gonna die, darlin’. There’s no way out of it. Tell me your name, and I’ll end you quick. Fuck with me, and I’ll make it last days.”
“Please, please,” she whimpered.
Ellen back away, nodding. Dez grabbed onto the woman’s shirt, holding tight while hurling punches. Between the crack of bones, and in a watery croak, bits of words echoed.
“Hold up.” Ellen caught Dez’s arm mid-swing, leaning close to the bloody mess that was once a woman’s face.
“Rebecca Prescott, agent 5327,” she mumbled, over and over as though all other information had been beaten from her head.
“Sasha’s here,” Vinny said, looking from Ellen to Dez.
“Good.” Ellen cut the tape from the chair, and the bitch flopped to the floor. “Bring her,” she said, pointing to the woman whose blood stained her floor. She tossed the knife aside and grabbed a handgun from her desk, walking out of the room.
***
Sasha
Sasha leaned against the steering wheel of her pickup truck, staring up at her open door. “Oh fuck.” Her truck bounced as she sped past the clubhouse. Rocks kicked up as she skid to a stop outside the garage. Sasha jumped from the cab and ran up her stairs. Inklings spawned in the back of her mind, warning her of danger, telling her to run away from this entire compound, yet her legs pushed on up rickety steps.
An empty bed mocked her. No sweet smile, fringed leather bag on the dresser, sandals by the door. Just a hint of patchouli, the only trace that Misty had ever been there. Sasha backed onto the landing, and the shuffle of boots filled her ears. A chill sucked all the warmth from her body, leaving a bone-jarring shiver. Her eyes drifted toward the clubhouse, stopping on her mother’s glare. It was that look, the stuff of nightmares, a glower that said four men she trusted were going to stomp her face into the gravel. At first, her legs resisted the urge to move. Then she saw Misty, slumped over Dez’s shoulder and trailing a stream of blood.
“No,” Sasha cried out, running down the stairs. “What did y’all do?”
Dez tossed Misty to the ground at Sasha’s feet, and Ellen stormed forward. The side of a pistol slammed against Sasha’s cheek, flashing the world to black.
Sasha dropped to her hands and knees, blinking back a haze. Blood gushed into her mouth, and a buzz bounced around inside her head. Thick fluid trickled down the back of her throat, and she hacked until she heard the sound of a gun being cocked, its click silencing her cough.
This was it, the end of a bumpy line. Sasha rose to her knees, and the barrel of a gun was pressed into the back of her head.
“You brought a federal agent onto our property?” her mother all but growled, shoving the gun harder against her skull.
“What? No. She’s just a college girl from—”
A kick sent Sasha face down onto the ground. Rocks dug into her palms, and Misty’s blood pooled beneath her fingers.
“Listen to her, Sasha,” Dez said, his shadow falling over her.
Sasha pushed herself back to her knees, keeping her eyes low. Ellen stepped forward, grabbed Sasha by the hair, and yanked her closer to Misty’s twitching body. Sasha closed her eyes, but she couldn’t block out Misty’s garbled voice as she repeated a name and a badge number.
“My only child, a disgrace,” Ellen sneered, releasing Sasha in a shove. “I tell you to cool it, and you bring in the heat. I warned you, girl.”
The gun’s barrel returned to the back of Sasha’s head, and she opened her eyes, looking up at the deep blue sky. “Do it. Fucking kill me.”
A gunshot jolted Sasha’s body, echoing off the green hills. Her heart pumped, fast, strong, but a bullet didn’t pierce her skull. She dropped her gaze, and Dez lowered a gun from Misty’s head.
“It’s done,” Dez said, moving behind Sasha. “Ellen.”
Sasha couldn’t move. Splatters of bright red held her gaze. Misty stared at her through vacant eyes until blood covered her battered face.
“Yeah,” Ellen muttered.
Boots shuffled all around, but Sasha stayed on her knees. The lake of blood beneath Misty’s head, ripped off nail on her delicate finger, crimson-stained blonde hair trapped her stare. A beautiful person, an ugly lie, a gory heap. Sasha didn’t know what she was looking at.
An icy prickle ran through her veins, and she shivered. She knew that feeling well. It spawned every time her mother grew near.
“I’ll deal with you later,” her mother’s voice growled from behind her. “Clean this shit up.”
Minutes dragged. It could’ve been hours. Sasha couldn’t tell. Time dwindled under the fiery ache that scorched her insides. That split she felt in her chest, it had to be the last fragment of her soul breaking. She was broken.
“Sasha.” Vinny glided his hand up her arm, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorr—”
“Don’t.” Sasha shrugged away from his touch, climbing to her feet. “My mom’s right; I am a disgrace. I wanted her,” she said, her stare caught on the hole in the back of Misty’s head. “I put the club at risk because I wanted her.”
“I’ll get a tarp, to wrap her in.”
“Don’t waste a tarp. Just help me throw her in the back of my truck.” Sasha turned, avoiding Vinny’s face like the plague. One dose of his gentle eyes might cause a full out breakdown, but without him at her side, she’d still be on the ground like a pathetic rat.
Sasha opened her tailgate, and Vinny gripped her shoulder.
“I’ll get her,” Vinny said, blocking Sasha’s view of a corpse that was just starting to twitch. “You go start the truck.”
Her instinct to argue didn’t kick on. Broken. Vinny must have seen it, the shatter of the self she’d pieced together. She must be marked. Now, when the world looks at her, they’ll see another broken girl, and she didn’t care. She couldn’t care, or she’d never be able to leave her bed again.
The motor roared to life, and Sasha flinched. She looked down to find her hand on the key and foot on the brake. Vinny hopped inside, nodding. For a second, life seemed normal. Just another day with her b
est friend, out for a joyride up the mountain, except he wasn’t her best friend anymore, this was no joyride, and a body was leaking brain matter all over the bed of her truck.
Autopilot stayed engaged, directing her hand to the gearshift and foot to the gas. Without a word, she drove up the hill, toward the cellar.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ellen
Ellen hung up the phone, marching into the backroom. She stood over Dez, glaring down as he scrubbed blood off the floor.
“What’d the sheriff say?” Dez asked without sparing a glance.
“That it’ll take a few days to find out anything concrete.”
“Shit. We could all be in jail in a few days.”
Ellen kicked the bucket beside Dez, splashing soapy water over its brim. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
His cruel eyes veered to her, but she stood firm. If Dez actually expected to intimidate her, he’d have to practice that glower in the mirror a few more times.
“Don’t you ever come between me and my daughter again,” she said, wagging her finger in his face. “This club, that girl, they’re mine to control. Just like you, motherfucker.”
Dez rose to his feet. This time, his stare held a vicious edge. A slight improvement, though still the look of a boy playing man.
“You can run this club into the ground for all I care,” Dez said, inching closer. “But I won’t let you put a bullet in Sasha’s head.”
“If I wanted to put a bullet in my little girl’s head, nothing would stop me, especially not a punk-ass kid like you.”
Dez curled his fingers into tight fists, and Ellen lifted her hand to the butt of her holster gun. One excuse, that’s all she needed to end this man’s self-designated reign over her club. Boots rattled the floor, but neither one of them dared to look away. A wisp of Old Spice filled Ellen’s lungs, bringing a smile to her lips.
“What’s going on in here?” Otis asked, walking into the backroom.
A smug glare lit Dez’s eyes, as though he had the upper hand, and it set Ellen’s blood to boil. His nerve superseded what little patience she possessed, but she refused to give him the power to know he rattled her. His death could only provide moments of satisfaction. The suffering she had in mind for him could deliver years of spiritual pleasure.
Ellen lowered her hand from the gun on her belt, stepping aside. “Go on, Dez. Swoop Sasha into your arms. Ask her to run away with you. I just wish I could be there to see your face when she shoots you down.”
Dez bumped Ellen’s shoulder as he strolled by like a stubborn child walking through the clubhouse, with his fists clenched, legs stomping out the door.
“Whose blood is on the floor?” Otis asked, sitting at the far end of the table.
For the first time since Ellen’s rude awakening, the tight strands that tugged at her every muscle loosened. She dropped into the chair beside Otis, slouching onto the table. “Spark a bone and I’ll tell you all about my shitty morning.”
***
Sasha
Dry leaves whirled around Sasha. A cascade of colors rode on the mountain breeze, but she couldn’t see them. A fog stole her vision, tunneling it to dead eyes. It was strange, how quick the sparkle faded. The cellar door squeaked open, but her gaze remained a prisoner to Misty’s cold, empty eyes.
Vinny knelt down and grabbed Misty by the shoulder, looking at Sasha. “Did you want to say something?”
“Yeah.” Sasha took a step back, but she still couldn’t lift her stare from the swollen, ripped skin of Misty’s face. “She was good. Nobody ever played me like that before and never will again, I swear it.”
Leaves rustled as Vinny dragged the body toward a dark hole in the ground. Then, in the slip of a second, Misty was gone and Sasha could finally look away.
She closed the cellar door, its thud carrying across the valley, and clicked the padlock shut. “Everything you did today, standing back so my mother could do what she needed to, comforting me after. It’s what Chewy would’ve done.” She stood, lifting her eyes to his regret-filled face. “I’m glad you’re VP, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“Sasha, I—”
“I’m pregnant.” Sasha slapped her hand over her mouth, regretting the release of words even though it felt so good to let them go. Poor Vinny. She might have stunned him stupid. He just gawked, looking like he could puke at any minute.
“I, uh…I don’t…” His jaw hung open, waiting to catch flies. “Is it mine?”
The question stung, but he had a valid reason to ask it, so she didn’t slug him. “You or Dez.”
Vinny shook his head, rocking in place. “It has to be Dez.”
“Jeez, asshole, way to pass the buck.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He rushed forward, grabbing her hand. “He’ll kill us both, but for real. He blacks out, sees red. It has to be his. Besides, we weren’t fucking around. Remember?”
“It doesn’t matter whose it is.” Sasha yanked her hand away, walking toward her truck. “I’m getting rid of it.”
“What? No, you’re not,” Vinny shouted, grabbing her arm.
She twisted from his grasp and shoved him, hard. “What do you care? We were never together anyway, remember.”
“Sasha.”
Whatever Vinny was about to say, she didn’t give a fuck. He had no idea what was best for her life, her body. She opened the driver’s door, nearly clipping his side with its edge. “I’m not bringing a baby into this shit. What a good life it’ll have, spending hours on the road doing drug runs and dropping bodies down a mine shaft. Are you fucking crazy?”
“Are you fucking crazy? Half the women that go into places like that don’t come out alive. I don’t want you to do this. Please, don’t make me stop you.”
“Oh yeah. Good luck, because I’m doing it today, and nothing is gonna change that.” She slid into the cab and started the engine. “Get in.”
Vinny held tight to her door, his legs cemented in place. “Just give it a few days. It couldn’t hurt. Maybe you’ll feel different.”
Sasha revved the motor then put the truck in reverse. “You wanna walk back?”
Every one of her days for the past eleven years, she spent with Vinny. Not once had she seen that look in his eye. That look belonged to Dez, right before he put his fist through someone’s face.
Vinny staggered back, slamming her door shut. “I’ll walk.”
“Come on, man.”
“Go,” he yelled, waving her off. “Take care of yourself, like you always do.”
The anger that trembled his voice, the tinge of disappointment in his stare, it hit harder than a backhand. Sasha punched the gas, shooting a rooster of dark earth from her tires. The truck bounced and clunked backward down the trail, but she didn’t let off. Another second was too many to dwell in these woods, on this compound, in her own blood-speckled skin. She tapped the brake and cut the wheel, spinning the truck around to face her mother’s house far below the hill. Without a glance in the rearview mirror, she drove past the big house and toward the puddle of blood at the foot of her steps.
***
Dez
Dez paced in Sasha’s bedroom. He had no idea what he was doing in there or what he’d say when she returned. Words couldn’t reverse what he’d done. He took something from her, something more important than a piece of ass. The confidence was gone from her stare, and he took that.
When Sasha’s truck’s engine rumbled the floor, his legs froze in place. If he had a decent bone in his body, he’d throw himself out the window, slip from her life, and never look back. But he didn’t move, which meant his inners were soaked in decay. The thump of boots on stairs rivaled the pound of Dez’s heart. He inched away from the door just as Sasha stormed in. She jumped at the sight of him, her hip crashing into the dresser beside the door.
“Goddammit, Dez!” Sasha shrank down, backing toward the doorway. “What are you doing in here?”
Dez took a step, and Sasha fl
inched, her back hitting the threshold. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, feeling like a total dick for attempting to defend himself. “I had to do that. You understand, right? If I didn’t shoot her, Ellen would have killed you. Sasha, I—”
“You should have let her kill me.” Sasha rushed forward, her tiny fists striking Dez’s chest. “Why’d you stop her? Why!”
“Because I love you.” Dez seized Sasha by the wrists, holding tight. “I love the shit out of you. I can’t sleep another night without you in my arms, wake up another morning and not see your smile.”
Sasha fell against Dez’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. He could stand there and hold her forever. She belonged to him, covered in blood and dirt, shaking in his grasp. The missing half, ripped from his soul five years ago, back to make him whole again. Her lips glided along his cheek, brushing his mouth, and his grip on her body grew tighter.
“Dez, I…I’m…” Sasha pushed off Dez’s chest, staring into his eyes. “I…need to get out of these clothes.” Her gaze dropped, and she rubbed her forehead.
“I got you.” Dez scooped Sasha into his arms. A light shiver ran down his spine as her weight fell against his chest. Her fingers twisted into his hair, warm breath floating along his neck as he carried her into the bathroom.
***
Vinny
Vinny ran down the hillside. Branches snagged his jacket, scraping his skin, but that didn’t slow his sprint. He jumped a fallen log, weaving through dense trees. Day, night, he could run this narrow trail down the mountain blindfolded. These were his woods, the home of his childhood, the place where he first kissed a girl, an eternal keeper of his murderous secrets.
He rounded a bend, picking up the pace. The snap of twigs echoed over his heavy gasps as he broke through thick brush. His boots dug into rocky dirt, skidding to a stop. Beyond the grand Victorian house that dominated the hillside, Vinny glimpsed Sasha’s truck parked in its usual spot.