by Jamie Zakian
“They’ll need to hit me with something bigger than a dump truck.” Sasha reached for the passenger door and Vinny brushed past her, opening it.
“Don’t do that,” Sasha yelled, slapping his hand away.
“What?”
Sasha climbed into the truck. Razor-tipped prickles spread between her legs as she slid onto the seat, but she stifled her groans. “I’m good, don’t need a butler.” She slammed the door shut, leaning against the open window. “You’ve seen me fucked up worse than this.”
“No, I haven’t.”
Vinny hurried around the front of the truck, dropping behind the steering wheel, and Sasha grabbed a joint from the ashtray.
“Are we gonna talk about the blood type thing?” Vinny asked, although it didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like he wanted some kind of omission, perhaps an apology, except he’d find neither in the cab of this truck.
“No.” Sasha snatched the zippo from Vinny’s hand, avoiding his glare. “Dez is Tyler’s father. That’s what we decided, in the woods that day.” Vinny had his chance, they both did, and blew it. How different everything would be if only they’d told the truth. She wouldn’t have fell in the cellar, her mother would be alive, and the kid in there would cling to her, not Dez. None of that mattered. It was a life that didn’t belong to her, in a world that never existed. A wise person once told her not to dwell on what-ifs and should-haves. She had to live in the now, and all the slaughter to come in the future.
Chapter Eleven
Just like old times, Sasha hobbled up the stairs beside the garage. Wooden boards creaked as she stepped onto the landing. The squawk of old wood, also known as the sound of home, sent flutters of warmth that melted the icy shell that had become her self. Her excitement grinded to a halt when the door squeaked open. Bare dresser tops gleamed in the overhead light, just as shiny as the freshly swept floor. Wait, a floor?
“Where’s my shit!” Sasha said, barging into the room.
“I burned it.”
Vinny said it so casually, as if it weren’t a lifetime’s worth of memories. “Dude!” she yelled, gawking at the hollow, near-empty room.
Vinny tossed his keys on the nightstand, sliding out of his jacket. “You pissed me off.”
It was a pretty valid reason, one Sasha couldn’t rebut. “Did it make you feel better?”
“Yeah,” Vinny said, without thinking twice.
“Then I guess it was worth it.” Sasha shrugged. The fire gods could have her shit as long as Vinny found a fraction of solace.
“I saved some stuff.” Vinny opened the closet, pulling out a cardboard box.
Sasha knelt down as he unfolded the top. The first flap peeled back, revealing a hint of flames. With the shedding of the second flap, a bright emblem of a semi truck’s grill filled her view. Vinny didn’t get to open the rest of the box. Sasha sprang forward, grabbed onto her father’s old jacket, and pulled it to her chest. Smooth leather tickled her fingertips, its soft crinkle sending shivers. It smelled the same, felt fucking great as she hugged it tight.
“I couldn’t burn that.”
The box was a treasure trove of awesome. Clothes Sasha really missed, bottles of perfume she’d never use again, and little wooden boxes filled with value-less yet priceless keepsakes.
“This is, like, everything,” Sasha said, her smile growing wider the deeper she dug through her crap. “What’d you burn?”
Vinny dropped to his ass, leaning against the wall. “Some bloody clothes, a mountain of empty cigarette packs.”
Sasha’s chuckle couldn’t be stopped, and it carried away at least ten pounds of stress as it escaped.
“I need a shower.” She wobbled to her feet. An attempt to lift her tank top sparked a blaze in her shoulder, ripping a cry from her chest.
“Let me,” Vinny said, jumping up off the floor.
“Seriously?”
“I won’t look.” Vinny walked behind Sasha. His hands fell to her waist, and she flinched. His grip remained light, gentle, yet she couldn’t make her stiff body relax.
“Besides,” he said, leaning closer. “I already have every curve memorized.”
Warm breath flowed over Sasha’s neck, igniting a tingle that hurt her most tender of places more than it excited. Vinny lifted the end of her shirt, peeling the blood-crusted fabric from her skin. A hand glided down her back, so soft. She forgot hands could touch in such a loving way. When his fingers hit the snap of her pants, he froze.
“Can I?” Vinny asked in a whisper.
Lips landed on Sasha’s shoulder, and a tear skated down her cheek. She almost said no, almost pushed him away. But the image he still held of her, an undefeatable force to be reckoned with, was something she didn’t want to lose. Plus, the notion of bending down to remove her pants seemed like torture.
“Yeah,” Sasha said, twice since the first attempt only erupted as a stutter.
Vinny dropped to his knees, taking Sasha’s jeans with him. She ignored his gasp, stepped out of the clingy denim, and walked into the bathroom.
“You can burn those too,” she said, turning on the hot water.
***
No matter how shitty the water pressure, there was nothing better than a shower in your own home. The harsh man-stink shampoo dampened the experience, but not enough for Sasha to give a shit. It was weird to smell Vinny on every inch of her body, and strangely comforting.
The clothes he’d left on the sink fit like a glove. Her old baggy cargo pants were pure bliss to slide into. Vinny even hung one of her ratty bandanas on the doorknob, cleaned and pressed.
Sasha grabbed the bandana, its soft fabric wrinkling in her grasp. For a good, long minute, she stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t the girl who could pull off that black and red bandana, or carry the weight of that skin lying on the bed. The scatter of bruises on her face seemed right, and a cold leer filled her eyes, but her head wasn’t right. She wasn’t ready to be that girl, not yet.
Carefully, she hung the bandana back on the doorknob and walked from the bathroom.
“You look much better,” Vinny said, sitting up on the bed.
“I feel almost much better.”
Vinny lifted a joint and flashed a smile.
“Now I’m much better.” Sasha eased onto the bed, dropping to her back. “Weed me.” A deep chuckle pulled her glare. “What?”
“It’s just…fuck!” Vinny rolled onto his side, staring at Sasha beyond the smoke that wafted from the joint in his grasp. “This. You.”
“Don’t get dorky on me now.” Sasha snatched the doobie, taking a long hit.
“Sasha. I was trying to tell you something, before the coma, but you kept cutting me off.”
Sasha hit the joint a few more times, since Vinny was too busy blabbering to smoke.
“I love you.”
Vinny said the words so firmly, so genuinely, it sucked the pot smoke right out of Sasha’s lungs in the form of a cough. She handed him back the joint. It looked like he needed it more than she did, unless she also had that yellowish tinge to her skin.
“I love you too,” Sasha said, failing to hold back her smile. “More than a friend, and not like a brother. But…”
“Dez.” Vinny snickered, his head shaking.
“I can’t hurt him again.”
“You got no problem hurting me.”
“You’re special.” Sasha thought it was funny, but Vinny didn’t laugh. A bit of an asshole vibe snuck in and she shrugged it off, sitting up to face him. “I didn’t come back here to make trouble, fuck up everyone’s shit.”
“Really?” Vinny snorted, crushing out the tiny stub of a joint in an ashtray.
“Really. I wanna do right by Tyler, give him a mom and a dad.”
“That’s…” Vinny hopped off the bed, grabbing his jacket. “Your line of thinking is straight-up retarded.”
Sasha rolled off the mattress, climbing to her feet. Flashbacks of her mother’s viper tongue started to crowd the
room, scorch the air, so she made her way to the door.
“Want your jacket?” Vinny asked.
“No.” Sasha didn’t look back, didn’t want to see her old skin calling out to its owner. As she stepped onto the landing, a cool breeze ran over her bare shoulders, cutting through her tank top.
“It’s chilly,” Vinny said, lifting the faded leather coat.
No shit it was chilly, but Sasha couldn’t put that jacket on. Everything it symbolized was the opposite of who she had become.
“You got a flannel?” she asked, crossing her arms to combat the mountain’s icy winds.
***
Sasha walked across the parking lot, peeking inside the hospital’s wide glass door. Dez paced in the hallway then thrusted his pointed finger at a doctor’s chest as Kev wedged himself between them.
“This can’t be good,” Vinny said, rushing inside.
As Sasha tossed her cigarette to the ground, a hand gripped onto the back of her neck. Her fist cocked back, and the barrel of a gun jammed into her side.
“Come with me now, and I won’t have your boy clipped,” a man whispered into Sasha’s ear.
That slimy sharp accent, spewing out threats to her child, boiled Sasha’s blood. She nodded. The asshole behind her probably thought she’d agreed with his demand, but she was giving her fist the go-ahead to fly. She shifted her weight, ready to swing, and the gun pulled away from her back, clanking against the sidewalk. Garbled words filled her ears, and the fingers clutching onto her neck fell limp.
Sasha turned and Otis winked, squeezing a greasy-looking wiseguy tighter in a chokehold.
“Shh,” Otis said, the muscles in his arm flexing. “Go to sleep.”
The man’s arms flopped, his legs buckling, and Otis dragged him into an alley. Sasha scooped the fallen glock off the sidewalk, glancing around the empty parking lot as she followed.
“Friend of yours?” Otis asked, dropping the guy in a pile of trash.
Sasha stared at the man’s face in the dim light. Something about his high cheekbones, pointed chin, looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“Don’t know him, but those shoes.” Sasha couldn’t miss those dark-tipped loafers, especially not with the spot of blood on them, her son’s blood. “I need to talk to this guy, someplace quiet.”
“Wait here,” Otis said, taking off across the parking lot.
With the gun high and aimed at the man’s head, Sasha crept toward the end of the alleyway and peeked down the sidewalk.
“Sasha!”
Vinny’s panicked call pushed Sasha’s finger against the trigger. Thankfully, she didn’t shoot. To kill this man here would be too easy, for him.
“What the fuck are you—” Vinny stopped just outside the alley, staring down at the pair of legs in the glow of streetlights. “What the fuck’s going on?”
“What’s going on in there?” Sasha tried to glimpse through the wide sliding door of the hospital, but a glare blocked her view. “Tyler?”
“No. Shift change. The new doc was trying to toss Dez out. Some bullshit about parents only.”
“Awesome,” Sasha groaned, as if Dez needed any more reasons to despise her.
“Don’t worry. I set the doc straight.”
“I bet you did, with a please and a smile.”
Vinny frowned, kicking a can into the alley. “It’s how you deal with propers.”
In a screech of tires, Otis pulled his pickup to the curb.
“Help me with this guy.” Sasha tucked the gun into her waistband, grabbing the man’s limp hands along with bits of slimy papers.
“Dez is asking about you,” Vinny said, lifting the guy’s legs.
“Fuck, dude! It’s not like I’m out here having a smoke break,” Sasha grumbled, struggling to haul the body through a cramped, trash-strewn alleyway.
Otis opened the back door of his truck, and Sasha shoved the asshole who’d ruined her plans inside. Instead of jumping in the passenger seat, her legs scurried backward. She really wanted to torture this guy, but she really wanted to check on Tyler.
“I’m taking him to the old saw mill, outside town,” Otis said, slamming the back door shut. “Meet us there, and don’t be lollygagging.” He tapped Vinny on the chest before rounding the truck. “You’re with me.”
“I gotta get involved?” Vinny asked, his tone of voice bordering on whiny.
Sasha pushed Vinny toward the passenger door of Otis’s truck, holding out her hand. “Gimme your keys.”
Vinny stood firm, a sour look scrunching his face, and Sasha dug through his jacket pockets. She pulled a keyring from his inside pocket, smiling at his frown.
“Thanks!” she said, jingling the keys as she walked backward toward the hospital. “See you in a few.”
Her smile faded when she stepped under harsh fluorescent lights and choked on the stink of hospital. She strolled past the nurse’s station, killing the perky chatter. The women’s nervous eyes gawked, and Sasha flashed her now clean clothes on her way into Tyler’s room.
Dez jumped up from a chair when Sasha walked in. His grin lit a spark in his beat eyes, and she hurried toward the shimmer.
“You came back,” Dez said, only moving one foot away from Tyler’s bed.
Fear had never hindered Sasha’s steps until now. She was terrified to get any closer to either of them, afraid her unending cyclone of destruction would rip them to shreds. But the second her gaze landed on Tyler and the way his little nose twitched during sleep, her selfish desire to hold the child close overrode her logical decision to leave his life and never return.
“Vinny told me about the asshole doctor,” Sasha said, glancing at Dez. “I’m…” Sorry didn’t seem like the right thing to say. I’m a great big pathetic slut fit much better.
“Where is Vinny, Otis?”
“Yeah.” Sasha squirmed away and Dez grabbed onto her waist, brushing the gun.
“What’s going on?” Dez asked, with more annoyance than concern in his voice.
He looked so tired, so completely fed up with her shit. This bullshit with the mob might tip him over the edge, end her chance at redemption, but she couldn’t rebuild their relationship on a foundation of lies.
“Somebody tried to nab me on the way in here, the same fucker who hit us with the dump truck.” Sasha looked at her poor little dude, lost under wires and tubes. The scratches on his beautiful face warped her guilt to fury.
“What do they want?” Dez asked, stepping closer to Tyler’s bedside.
“To die.”
Dez smirked, which incited a giddy type of hum in Sasha’s chest. It ran beneath her skin, growing to a warm tingle as it invaded every inch of her body. She reached for Dez, realized how desperate she looked, then jerked her arm back. Dez didn’t let her get very far. His hands glided up her sides, along her neck, to her cheeks, and she didn’t fight him. The fingers running into her hair gave off too much strength to part with, and the silky lips nearing her own were far too inviting to turn away.
“Is this okay?” Dez asked, pulling Sasha so close she could almost feel the tremble of his lips.
“Always.” She kissed him hard, grinding into him even though it hurt like hell. Anything could happen between now and the next time Dez touched her body. She might not even make it across the parking lot. This moment had to count. The hands gripping her tight, that tongue skating along the roof of her mouth, those goddamn abs that had more ripples than the Hudson after a storm, had to be utilized. Dez gave her the tools to set the world aflame in this kiss.
A light sway set Sasha’s feet to wobble as Dez pulled back. “Thanks,” she said.
“Huh?”
Sasha pulled the gun from her waistband, holding it out. “People might be coming here, to hurt Tyler.”
“Keep it.” Dez lifted his shirt, showing the butt of a revolver tucked into a holster. “What crew are we wiping out?”
“Mobsters,” Sasha said, also managing to convey a sorry with that one word.<
br />
“Like in the movies?”
Sasha shrugged, dropping a soft kiss on Tyler’s forehead before backing toward the door. “I don’t know. I’ve been kinda out of the loop for the last five years. Love ya.” She stopped in the doorway, her mouth caught open. She didn’t mean to say that last part out loud, but it was out there, in the air, causing a crinkle in Dez’s brow.
“I love you too, you crazy bitch,” he said, flashing a smile.
Although it actually hurt to do, Sasha walked away from the dimly lit room that housed everything she’d die for. The nurses stopped to gawk, again, as she strolled by. This time, Sasha blew them a kiss before strutting down the hall. That should keep them busybodies gabbing for at least an hour.
Kev walked from the waiting room as Sasha headed for the front door.
“What’s up?” he asked, blocking her swift exit to much needed revenge.
Sasha leaned close to Kev, eyeing the near empty hallway beside them. “You packing?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Keep your eye on Tyler’s room and your finger on the trigger.”
“What am I aiming at?” Kev asked, his hand resting on the butt of his holstered gun.
“Any Italian mobster-looking motherfuckers.” Sasha patted Kev on the arm, then strolled out the sliding glass door.
Chapter Twelve
Sasha walked through a kicked-in metal door of a long forgotten brick building. The thump of her boots echoed around the wide-open space as she crept deeper into the sawmill. It was perfect. Cobwebs hung from old steel machines, a man was tied to a logging table that had a giant saw protruding from it right above his head. There was even a flickering light that swung to cast shadows over Otis and Vinny, all perfect. Sasha grinned at Otis, and he nodded. She’d have to thank him later. This setup was like Christmas and her birthday all rolled into one.
She circled the table, glaring down at the man tied to it. The guy didn’t cry out, beg to be freed; he just stared at her with a sneer on his now busted lips.