Blood and Tears (Holler Ashby #2)

by Jamie Zakian

  “You made it back in time!” Tyler said, squirming out of Vinny’s probably too tight hug.

  “You didn’t think I’d miss your birthday, did ya?”

  Dez pushed his way to the front of the small crowd that now surrounded Vinny. “What happened?”

  Vinny stood, but he couldn’t lift his gaze. They were all staring at him, he could feel it. What an idiot he’d been, convincing them to hold hope, convincing himself. Now they all were waiting for good news, and he didn’t have anything but shit to say.

  On the first attempt at speech, Vinny almost told them Sasha was dead except that lie would only benefit Sasha and destroy everyone else. Well fuck that, and fuck Sasha.

  Cash took Tyler by the hand, tugging lightly. “Come on, little man. Show me the cake the girls made for you.”

  The second Tyler slipped into the clubhouse, Dez grabbed onto Vinny’s arm. “Sasha’s dead, isn’t she?”

  “Nah. She’s great, living it up in the city.” Vinny’s words came out in a sneer. It would feel like shit to trash the woman he’d wasted most of his life chasing, except he’d lost the ability to feel a long time ago.

  Without a word, Otis turned and walked toward the clubhouse.

  “Are you sure?” Kev asked, managing to look more confused than he sounded.

  “No. I’m making shit up, asshole. Yeah, I’m sure! I talked to her myself, right before she had her new friends toss me out the city at gunpoint.”

  For the first time since coming home, Vinny looked at Dez. He expected sadness, maybe even a bit of agony, but didn’t anticipate to find a face full of rage, aimed at him.

  “You…” Dez said through clenched teeth. He balled his big fist, again and again, before aiming it Vinny’s way.

  Vinny stumbled back as Dez slammed his knuckles into the semi's door. “I wanted to let her the fuck go.” He drew his fist back from the dented metal. A stream of blood flew from his now busted skin as he pointed at Vinny. “Not you. You had to keep chasing whispers of her name, spreading hope, making me believe she'd be back. You had no right.”

  This would be the point where Vinny started hurling insults then punches. It should be, but the fire never ignited in his veins.

  “Sorry,” Vinny muttered, brushing past Dez and heading for the garage. He’d shout, swing, defend himself, if he had a leg to stand on. Dez was right. He’d wasted his time, his life. Four years of waiting for Sasha to wake up, damn near two more tracking her coward-ass down, and all the nights before that they’d spent together, just to have her spit in his face. Sasha was her mother’s daughter all right. A user, abuser, an intoxicating drug that cloaked its destruction under guises of love. He should’ve seen it sooner. Now that he did, blue skies seemed gray and the gentle breeze stung his skin.

  Vinny opened the door to his room, grumbling at the sight of bare skin. Usually, a buck naked bleached bimbo was the ideal end to a long road trip. Usually. Today was an alone-time kind of day. One of those smash everything that reflected his image days, and company would distract from that fun.

  “Not now.” Vinny left his door open to make it easier for Crystal to leave.

  “Bad trip?”

  Instead of reaching for her clothes, Crystal groped at Vinny. She ran her hands through his hair, and he cringed. All he could feel was Sasha’s fingers tickling his flesh, Sasha’s lips teasing his mouth.

  “Stop!” Vinny grabbed Crystal by the wrists, pushing her away.

  “Okay.” Crystal’s grabby hands came back, groping his chest. She pushed Vinny onto the bed. “Just sit down for a sec.” She plucked a joint from the ashtray, lit it up, and slid it between Vinny’s lips. “Let me help you unwind real quick, then I’ll split.” Her knees hit the ground, and she fumbled with his belt. “You don’t have to do anything. Just sit back and relax, baby.”

  What the hell? A blowjob would be pretty fucking awesome right now. He did deserve it, after such a stressful trip.

  A chill took his body by surprise when lips wrapped around his cock. Vinny leaned back, scooting closer. It was gentleman-like, his way of helping out. Smoke flowed into his lungs as her tongue slithered up and down his flesh. His gaze drifted to the window, and a hint of blue seeped back into the gray sky.

  Chapter Four

  Sasha

  Rusty springs squeaked as Sasha wiggled on her bench seat. For three hundred bucks, she didn’t think this old Ford would make it past West Virginia, but here she was driving up the curvy road into her mountains. Rough stone sparkled in the headlights, the truck’s old motor chugging up the steep incline. The strangest sensation spawned in her chest, one she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t fear, excitement, or dread. More like all that shit rolled up into one giant ball of what-the-fuck.

  As the truck rounded a bend, its headlights shined off a newer section of guardrail. Sasha hit the brakes, staring at the gleam that didn’t belong. It was too clean, didn’t have enough dents to match the gray metal on either side of it. This was the spot, the place where her heart had permanently shattered, the dark hole of death that took her ability to love away.

  Sasha opened the door, taking a deep breath of crisp night air. The gentle breeze, which flowed so freely here, gave her the strength to walk to the edge of the road. Part of her actually expected to find a mangled Mack truck in the valley far below, spilling out bloody clumps of her beautiful girl.

  “Candy,” Sasha uttered, choking on the lump that hatched even bigger lumps inside her throat. If this lonely stretch of road wasn’t made of rock and pavement, she’d torch the fuck out of it.

  Her legs carried her back to the truck, thankfully, ‘cause her mind was running a bit slow. It was the lack of weed. Only roaches littered the ashtray of her pickup, none big enough to smoke. Fuck, she was about to eat them little bastards. Her surprise homecoming would have to be executed semi-straight, which was only half-bad.

  A slight tremble quaked Sasha’s hands as she steered her pickup onto the compound. The same dented front gate sat wide-open, right beside the same faded sign rising above the chain-link fence. Ashby Trucking, also known as home sweet hell.

  Halfway up the gravely hill, the thump of speakers tickled Sasha’s ears and pushed a smile onto her lips. “Hasn’t changed a lick,” she muttered, driving through a maze of cars and rowdy people.

  After finding a place to park and taking a few deep breaths, Sasha climbed from her truck. Chills spread through her body with every step she took. How strange to walk this property and feel as though she were treading where she didn’t belong. Voices screamed in her head over the cheers wafting from the clubhouse. They told her to run, to leave this place if she loved the people in it. She froze mid-step, just a few feet away from the clubhouse. Her crazy person voice could be right. She didn’t even know why the fuck she came to this holler. It wasn’t too late. She could hop in her truck, roll out, and nobody would be the wiser.

  “Sasha?” Vinny said, his deep voice drowning out all other sounds.

  A thickness clung to the air, suffocating Sasha for the briefest of seconds. She must be getting rusty, because she used to be able to sense Vinny’s electric vibe before he snuck up behind her.

  Sasha turned and looked into Vinny’s shocked eyes. “You’re not the only one who can make surprise visits, motherfucker.”

  “What are you doing here?” Vinny asked, pulling Sasha away from the clubhouse.

  Sasha yanked her arm free, which earned her a hard glare. It would’ve been great if she could’ve started this off without fucking it up, but doing things proper wasn’t her strong suit. “I, uh…didn’t like the way things left off, between us.”

  Vinny didn’t say a word, his brain might’ve conked out on him, which only added to the awkward vibe that surrounded them.

  “So, big party,” Sasha said, glancing at the clubhouse. “Is it a special occasion?” Based on Vinny’s face, she didn’t want to hear the answer. With her luck, she probably stumbled into the middle of his engagement party. Or w
orse, this could be Dez’s wedding.

  “It’s Tyler’s birthday,” Vinny said, a tinge of spite trembling his voice.

  “Oh shit! I didn’t know. Fuck!” Sasha slapped her forehead twice, but couldn’t whack the feel of scumbag from her brain. A real mother would know their child’s birthdate. Then again, the majority of real mothers weren’t in a coma during their child’s birth.

  “I don’t have a present.” Sasha looked at her truck. She’d give the little dude that, but it was kind of shitty.

  “I think seeing you would be enough of a present.” Vinny scanned the crowd, looked at his feet, then up to the actual stars in the sky, pretty much anywhere else that wasn’t her direction.

  “Would the kid even know who I am? I don’t want to confuse him on his birthday and everything.”

  “Tyler knows you. There’s pictures of you everywhere, all over the clubhouse.”

  Vinny glanced at Sasha. It was only for a second, but she caught the affection in his stare.

  “I tell him about you all the time,” he said, so low his voice barely flowed over the music, “about the old shit we used to do.”

  “Oh God.” Sasha chuckled, even though the thought scared the shit out of her. “The kid probably thinks I’m a psychopath. Where did you tell him I was?”

  “He thinks you’re sleeping, like a princess in a fairytale.”

  Sasha stepped in front of Vinny, taking his hand. “And I needed a prince to kiss me and wake me up?”

  It was a tiny one, but Vinny smirked and Sasha savored every bit of warmth it radiated.

  “Sasha!” Kev yelled, pushing his way down the clubhouse steps. “Holy fucking mother of shit. It is you!” He damn near tackled Sasha, scooping her up in a bear-hug. “I knew you’d be back. These guys are fucking stupid.”

  The moment Sasha’s feet hit the ground, a light tug pulled at the end of her flannel. She looked down and big brown eyes stared up at her, shimmering in the moonlight.

  “Mommy?”

  The one word, spoken in a meek voice, took Sasha’s quaking knees to the ground. “Hey, little dude,” she choked out. The kid’s goofy smile flashed, so much brighter in real life, and she chuckled. It was either laugh or burst into tears.

  Tyler crashed against Sasha’s chest, holding as tightly as tiny arms could, and the air burnt from her lungs.

  “You woke up for my birthday,” he said, his breath rustling her hair.

  Sasha drew back, studying the kid’s face. Dez would come along any second and literally toss her ass off the compound. She wanted to memorize every curve of Tyler's chubby cheeks, every sparkle in his deep eyes, before the child was gone from her life forever.

  “What the fuck!”

  Too late. The new prez caught her scent. Sasha rose with every intention to stand tall, but shrank down under Dez’s stare.

  “Look Daddy, Mommy woke up for my birthday,” Tyler said, pulling Sasha closer to Dez.

  “That’s…” Dez scanned the crowd moving in around them, stopping his glare on Vinny, “amazing, buddy.”

  “Best present ever!” Tyler tugged on Sasha’s arm, yanking her toward the clubhouse. “Come on, I gotta show you my cake.”

  “No.” Dez reached for Sasha, and Otis held him back.

  “Let the kid have this.” Otis turned to leer at Sasha. “It might be his only chance to meet his mother.”

  Sasha cringed. These fuckers did welcomes just like she remembered. She took Tyler by the hand, letting him pull her into the clubhouse.

  ***

  Dez

  Dez leaned against the bar, hawking every one of Sasha’s moves. The smiles she slung at his son, her fingers running through his child’s hair, it made him want to ram his fist into everything. That bitch had a lot of nerve. After what she put him through, to waltz back in here, without a hint of remorse on her face. If it wasn’t Tyler’s birthday, he’d wrap his fingers around her neck and squeeze.

  Vinny stepped beside Dez, gawking at Sasha as she played all the people around her. They thought it was a miracle. Stupid assholes also thought she’d been transferred to a private facility, instead of running out on her family like a spineless coward.

  “What the fuck?” Dez practically shouted without tearing his gaze from the heartless demon of a woman who held tight to his son.

  “I don’t know,” Vinny said, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. “I didn’t think she’d come back, ever.”

  “What happened in New York, really?”

  “I didn’t fuck her.”

  “That’s a surprise.” Dez snatched the bottle from Vinny’s hand, taking a long swig. He needed to get good and loaded to keep from wrecking shit, to keep from grabbing Sasha and holding her close, to keep from forgiving her for trampling his heart.

  “She told me she thought about us,” Vinny said, with more sadness than anger. “That she picked up the phone to call every night, but she was scared.”

  “Scared.” Dez took another gulp just as long as the first, maybe longer. “Of what?”

  “Probably your fist, shattering her face.” Vinny snatched the bottle and walked into the crowd.

  That’s when it happened. Sasha’s eyes cut through the sea of faces, shined beyond the clouds of smoke, and locked onto Dez’s glare. A firestorm whirled inside his chest. The love he felt for her, which only grew deeper the harder he’d clung to her ghost, flared into overdrive. Her stare was like acid, ripping at the lining of his gut, tearing open old scars of abandonment. And the ache. His entire body ached for her touch, yearned to wrap itself in her feel, scent, taste. It all crashed down on him in waves. Love, hate, need. His mind spun faster than the room. He didn’t know what to do. Hug her, hit her? God how he wanted to pull her into his arms, just as much as he wanted to toss her ass over the side of the mountain.

  Dez balled his fingers so tight he feared his fists would never unclench again. He needed to go, get some air, but there was no way in hell he was letting Tyler out of his sight.

  A hand landed on Dez’s shoulder, and his arm cocked back.

  “Whoa!” Otis said, his grip on Dez’s shoulder tightening. “You good?”

  Otis’s smooth voice sent a layer of ice to cool Dez’s fiery mind. Sasha may have cast a spell on everybody else, but Otis would still ride with him on the fuck-Sasha bandwagon.

  “No. I’m not fucking good.” Dez turned to face Otis, resisting the urge to latch onto the guy in search of comfort. “What do I do?”

  “What do you wanna do?”

  “Man, not you too. Fuck.” Dez dropped his stare to the faded wooden floor. Sasha had gotten to Otis, and she hadn’t even talked to the man yet. He’d be next. Another sheep, in line for the con-man’s slaughter.

  Otis leaned against the bar, staring up at the ceiling. “I wanna take Sasha out back, beat the shit out of her,” he said in a near growl. “I also wanna hug her and never let go.”

  “Yeah.” Dez knew that feeling, times ten. “Can we do both?”

  Otis chuckled, but Dez was eighty-five percent serious, maybe sixty-five percent. Dez stared across the room. Panic drove his heart to pound. His eyes found Tyler amid a group of children, and of course Sasha was gone. For a second, Dez thought it was a dream. Then he caught the look on Otis’s face, broken, lost, tortured. It was like looking in a mirror.

  “Guess we don’t have to worry about it,” Otis said in a grumble. “Bitch took off again.”

  Dez headed for the door. This time, if Sasha was going to leave him, she’d have to look him in the face before she did it.

  ***

  Sasha

  Sasha tried to keep up with that kid. One minute it was Hot Wheels, the next The Dukes of Hazzard, and a whole bunch of shit she didn’t understand in-between. It didn’t take Tyler a long time to find somebody else to ramble at, leaving her alone with Otis’s and Dez’s leers. By the looks of it, she was in for one hell of a beating. Those assholes better have fists wrapped in luck. She didn’t roll with the punches anymore. She
shot back.

  Except she felt inclined to let them whoop her ass. It was this property. Something about this holler, and the people slithering on it, brought the little bitch out in her.

  Sasha stepped onto the porch, eyeing her truck. Misery lingered on this mountain. It would consume her if she stayed. She thumped down the steps, stopping once she felt gravel under her boots. Tiny pebbles crunched under her fidgety foot, her gaze stuck on that old Ford.

  “You just gonna split?” Dez called out, his voice sending both spikes and sparks into Sasha’s chest. She’d replayed memories of him over a thousand times in her mind, but she got the smooth drawl of his voice all wrong. It was so much deeper, stronger, in real life.

  “No, I—” Sasha turned to face Dez, struck by the gleam in his frosty-blue eyes. Even in the dark, hidden in shadows and soaked in hate, his gaze ran through her soul. “I was just gonna rummage through my truck for a joint.”

  Dez pulled a freshly rolled joint from his inside pocket, sat on the bench, and lit it up. Sasha crept back up the steps, making sure to keep far from Dez’s reach. After about three hits and twenty glares, it became apparent he was going to smoke that joint to his head. The first punishment, with many more to come, most likely.

  “What the fuck do you want, Sasha?”

  Besides a hit of that joint, she had no goddamn clue. “I tried really hard to forget about this place, all the shit that happened. Then fucking Vinny showed up.” She walked in front of Dez and leaned back against the porch's rail. “Vinny put a picture of that kid on the table. He’d gotten so big. To me it’s only been like a year, but really over five have passed and…I don’t know.” Her knees quaked, wanting to buckle for optimal begging position. She didn’t dare. Forgiveness was too good for her, and she wouldn’t burden Dez to grant it.

  “I can leave,” Sasha said, pointing at her truck. “If you want.”

  “Holy fuck, I get a choice this time. We can go get the kid. Maybe he can pitch in on it too.”