by Jamie Zakian
Blood and Tears
By Jamie Zakian
BLOOD AND TEARS
Copyright © 2016 by Jamie Zakian.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: December 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-948-1
ISBN-10: 1-68058-948-2
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For the dreamers, the thinkers, the lovers, the fighters, and all the freaks like me.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
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Chapter One
“God damn, motherfucker,” Sasha grumbled to herself over the thump of her boots on concrete steps. After a year and a half of trolling around Queens, she should be used to the stench of ass crack and exhaust, except she wasn’t. That’s when the invisible vice around her heart tightened, again. Every afternoon, when Sasha stumbled from Rosalie’s apartment, a pout snuck onto her lips. The idea of leaving her beautiful girl to stroll along dirty streets didn’t bring the frown. It was the scenery. Birds didn’t chirp in the city, leaves never rustled, and frosty blue eyes weren’t leering at her. No, not the eyes. It was the mockingbird’s call she missed, totally.
Sasha popped a cigarette in her mouth as she walked down the sidewalk. Before she could reach for her zippo, a hand landed on her shoulder. She gripped onto a thick wrist, leaned back, and flipped a solid body over her shoulder. The chump landed on his back with a thud, and Sasha pressed down on his neck with her boot. A gust of wind blew her hair. Her brown waves blocked her view of the asshole’s shock, but that didn’t stop her from twisting the guy’s arm.
“Sasha,” a low voice rang out.
That soft roll of a smooth southern tongue, even muffled under Sasha’s foot, sent a spike to her chest. Her fingers trembled, and the arm in her clutch slipped away.
“Vinny?” Sasha scurried back, gawking as Vinny peeled himself off the dirty sidewalk. The look on his face was unreadable but Jesus Christ, she forgot how the sun shined a bit brighter when he was near. It took all she had to keep from diving into his arms. “I—”
Vinny rushed forward, and Sasha shrank down. He wrapped his arms around her, holding tight, pulling her into a warmth she thought had extinguished long ago.
“You fucking bitch.”
She couldn’t tell if anger or sarcasm trembled Vinny’s voice, and she didn’t care. Her head had found a piece of home once Sasha laid it against the familiar ridges of Vinny's chest. All the things she’d convinced herself were gone came flooding back, and she didn’t want to let go.
Vinny wrenched back from the tight embrace then shoved Sasha. She bumped into some dude with a briefcase who had the nerve to call her a dumb bitch. “Hey, fuck you too, buddy!” she yelled at the guy’s back. Her middle finger went up, spanning the sidewalk of rude-ass people flowing around her.
“Guess my postcard got lost in the mail,” Vinny sneered, and Sasha turned back to face him.
“I don’t—”
“Look at you!” Vinny said, swatting at Sasha’s feathered hair. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Sasha rolled her head to the side. Streaks of blonde cut through her brown hair, spilling down the sleeve of her flannel shirt. “My girl’s a hairdresser.”
“Your girl?”
There it was, the reason Sasha left her holler. The mockery those she loved most made of her life had begun. Pretty surprising, that it took Vinny five whole minutes to ridicule her. She’d tag his ass with a left hook and storm off, except he looked so tired, so beat down already.
“You wanna grab a beer?” She gestured to the bar behind her, and Vinny rolled his eyes.
***
Sasha picked at the label of her bottle, stealing glances at Vinny. He didn’t fidget like her or shift his gaze. A hardness lingered in his eyes, one that hadn’t dwelled there before, and the hardness was fixed on her.
“So,” Sasha took a swig off her beer, looking into the corner, “how you been?”
Vinny’s elbows hit the table, rattling a little bowl of pretzels. “Really? How the fuck do you think I’ve been? I thought you were dead.”
He looked pissed. This would require some hardcore explaining, which called for a big fat joint. In one swift move, Sasha pulled a joint from her front pocket and lit her zippo. For the first time since they’d sat at that tiny table in the back of this dive bar, Vinny tore his eyes from Sasha to glance around.
“It’s cool,” Sasha said through a puff of smoke. “They don’t fuck with me here.” She held out the joint, and Vinny looked away. “Whatever.” And back into her mouth the doobie went, doing its magic to hide the guilt in her stare.
“Dez knew you split but I fought for you, actually fought him for you. I had them all convinced Dante took you.” Vinny’s eyes glossed over for just a second before fury rushed in to cloud their shine with rage. “How could you do this to me, to your kid?”
“My kid died in the cellar, with everything else.”
“No!” Vinny jumped up, sending his chair to the floor in a crash. “Your soul’s the only thing that died in the cellar.” He slammed his palm down on the table, rocking it on its legs. “Tyler asks about you all the time.”
Sasha looked at the bar and the man who was already on the phone.
“Sit down, Vinny.”
“Fuck you, Sasha.”
Vinny turned and walked out the front door, leaving a picture on the table. A cute child’s deep brown eyes lured her stare, much like a train wreck.
“Damn kid,” Sasha said, gliding her finger along the glossy photo. “You got big.” The kid still had the same goofy smile as that baby she saw in the last picture, the one that was seared into her eyelids, the one that haunted her every night once her head hit the pillows.
Sasha rose from her chair, butting the joint out in the ashtray. This time, she took the picture with her when she left.
***
Laughter flowed in waves as the doors to Fat Tonys swung ope
n. Sasha strolled through the restaurant, not one head turning her way. The glitz no longer held a sense of awe. In fact, it kind of sickened her. There were people struggling to survive this city’s wrath everywhere she looked and these assholes just sat at their hand-carved tables, chuckling like clowns while nibbling on their sixty-dollar-a-piece plates.
Sasha walked up the small stairs across from the bar, nodding to the boys around the long table before taking her seat.
“Where you been, Sasha?” Enzo, the Don’s right-hand man, asked, which meant Antonio wanted to know.
Sasha steered her gaze to the head of the table, which wasn’t easy with the waitress leaning over her shoulder to set down a glass of wine. “I ran into an old friend, from back home.”
“Really?” Antonio said. He sounded surprised, but the hard stare hinted otherwise.
“Yeah. The dude must’ve used his spidey senses to track me down, ‘cause I was real careful.”
“Huh.” Antonio tapped his cigarette in a crystal ashtray, holding an icy stare. “Maybe the boys should hang around with you for a while.”
Heads nodded around the table, except for Sasha’s. “That’s not necessary.”
“But still. I’d feel better if Marco and Ricci tailed you ‘til this all blows over.”
The chair squeaked as Sasha settled back. These people, her new crew, had never made her feel like an object, until now. There must be something about her that made people assume they could own her. Hell, a neon sign could be flashing Vulnerable Girl for Rent above her head and she wouldn’t see it beyond the cloud of smoke, which wafted from the freshly lit joint in her mouth.
Antonio cocked his head, and the made men at the table quickly made their way to the bar. Antonio’s shifty eyes, the tap, tap, tap on the ashtray’s edge, spread ice beneath Sasha’s skin. The Don was nervous. People who strummed the Don’s nerves usually disappeared, and they were the only two people at the table. Antonio waved Sasha over, and despite her body’s strong reluctance she slid down the row of chairs to his side.
“I got the medical report back this morning,” Antonio said, turning to face Sasha. “There’s no doubt about it, you’re a Lazzari.”
This wasn’t news to Sasha. One step inside Antonio’s house and she saw what could’ve been her pictures lining the walls. Except it wasn’t her dark stare in those photos, it was Dante’s.
“The test was just a formality,” Antonio said with only sincerity. “I didn’t need it. I could see my brother the moment I laid eyes on you.” He took Sasha’s hand, his chubby fingers squeezing lightly. “I know what it was like for you, growing up. That’s not the kind of family you’ll find here. You’re not bound to this place, to me. If you miss your people, you’re free to go home. And if you wanted to come back, you’d be welcomed with open arms.”
Antonio’s words, and the affection behind them, felt foreign. There had to be an angle; Sasha just couldn’t see it yet.
“Would you like to know where your trucker friend is staying?” Antonio asked, leaning back in his padded chair.
“You know?”
“Of course. An eighteen-wheeler can’t roll through my city without me knowing.”
Sasha didn’t want to know where Vinny was staying. One more glimpse of Vinny and she’d hightail it back to the hills, begging to be punished for crimes she hadn’t committed. Her gaze fell. Her blonde waves shrouded her view, blocked out the bobble-headed grins of the fools dining below their private section and the sexy waitress who was weaving between tables. Behind her golden streaks, she could be a different person. Sasha Lazzari, a woman to be feared, respected.
The picture peeked out from her breast pocket and she jolted back, sitting up straight.
Antonio’s hand landed atop Sasha’s, rubbing gently. “What is it?”
Of all the people Sasha had met in her entire life, the man beside her was the only one she’d ever really trusted. Slowly, and without looking, she pulled the picture from her pocket and handed it to him.
“Is this your son?”
Since a massive lump took up residence in Sasha’s throat, she nodded.
“My great-nephew. He’s one handsome little man. Has your eyes.”
“Let’s hope that’s the only thing he has of mine.”
Antonio chuckled, passing the photo back. Sasha didn’t look at the picture, didn’t have to. That kid’s face had properly etched itself into her brain.
“What’s his name?”
“Tyler, I think.” Sasha squirmed in her seat, in her own skin. “I just left him. I never…I didn’t…”
“You know,” Antonio slid a pack of cigarettes in front of Sasha, “I had a brother who walked away from his kid to give her a better shot at life, and it worked out for the best in my opinion. But in your situation, I wonder. Is it best for that child to grow up without his mother?”
Boots thumped up the small steps, interrupting Sasha’s whirling thoughts. She turned in her chair and AJ, the only person who could walk up to this table at this moment and not get whacked, sat beside her. AJ had no respect for tradition, which was a problem, as he was the Don’s only son.
“You were attacked?” AJ asked. His question could easily be mistaken as a declaration of war.
“No!” Sasha said, her glare much harder than her bark.
“It’s all over the street that one of our guys was threatened in the middle of Joey’s pub. I wanna know who this jackoff is and make an example of him.”
“Calm down,” Antonio said, lifting his hand.
“No, pop! We can’t let shit like this stand, or people will think we’re getting soft.”
“No one’s moving on our territory!” Antonio yelled, stopping the clink of glasses and mindless chatter in the entire restaurant. The tone of Antonio’s voice, the curl of his large fist, shriveled Sasha’s spine. Judging by the sudden hush in the room, it affected everyone else as well.
Antonio’s wide, tense body loosened, and as if on cue the background noise kicked on. “Some of Sasha’s family is in town, for a visit.”
“Great,” AJ muttered. “More hillbilly fucks littering the streets.”
“Hey!” Antonio’s fist hit the table, quaking everything in the area, including Sasha. “You need to show your cousin more respect.”
“She’s not my cousin.”
AJ’s finger wagged in Sasha’s face, and she leaned back. It was either that or grab the butter knife and start slicing.
“Yes, she is. I got the final test results this morning. That makes her an underboss of this family, your equal.”
“That’s bullshit!” In a fit of stomping feet, AJ scampered off, followed by his trio of thugs.
Once the spoiled brat, and future leader of the Lazzari family, stomped from sight, Sasha turned to face Antonio. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. You can tell him I don’t want to be an underboss.”
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works. Your father controls half this city. It’s your responsibility to look after his interests until he gets back. AJ will just have to find something else to do from now on.”
Sasha couldn’t orchestrate a more fucked day if she tried. She just stole her brand new cousin’s turf, which was a little more serious than melting his G.I. Joes, though it left the same foul stench. If ever there was a reason to split…she glanced at Antonio, catching a light smirk.
“You did this on purpose,” she said, leaning onto the table.
Antonio’s face cleared, but his gaze still held a glimmer of amusement.
“You knew if you laid down the weight, I’d bolt.”
A chuckle heaved Antonio’s belly. “You might not have the jacket on anymore, but the patch said it all. You are a runner.”
That shook Sasha to the core, made her want to prove him wrong. She crossed her arms, held herself tight, but couldn’t replicate the embrace that clutched her body only an hour ago.
“Where’s my crew staying at?”
Antonio nodded, sl
iding a folded piece of paper in front of Sasha.
Chapter Two
Since Sasha couldn’t shake Marco and Ricci, she made them drive her to the Travelers Motel. Unfortunately, she’d only had time to smoke one joint before they got there. She needed at least three more. Her gaze locked on Vinny’s door, and a little bit of vomit crept up the back of her throat.
“You want us to go knock for you?” Marco snickered from the front seat.
A slew of obscene-laced grumbles trickled from Sasha’s mouth as she opened her door. Once outside and surrounded by the twinkle of city lights, her muscles uncoiled just a tad. It was enough for her sorry ass legs to function, so she pushed them forward.
She stood in front of Vinny’s door like an idiot, her arm rising and dropping. The boys in the car were probably getting a kick out of this one. “Fuck this. I’m out.”
The door flew open, and Vinny’s grumpy face filled Sasha’s view. Her smile spread wide, even though his glare deepened. She’d wrap her arms around him, feel his body against hers, if she didn’t think he’d toss her ass to the filthy pavement.
“How’d you find me?” Vinny asked, eyeing the men in the car behind Sasha.
“This is my city.”
“Your city,” Vinny snorted, hurling a spiteful glare.
The flare in Vinny’s gaze was too cute. Sasha had to look away and force back her rising grin. “How’d you find me?”
Vinny leaned against the doorway, shrugging. “What do you want?”
“World peace, equality for all.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” Sasha reached for Vinny’s hand and he pulled away, so she snatched his arm. “What I really want is for you not to hate me.”
“You took off, started a fancy new life with city clothes, forgot all about me.”
“I never forgot you.” Sasha glided her hands to Vinny’s neck, twisted her fingers into his hair. “I picked up the phone every night to call you, but I couldn’t dial.”