Blood and Tears (Holler Ashby #2)

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Blood and Tears (Holler Ashby #2) Page 11

by Jamie Zakian


  “What’s this?” Sasha asked, holding up the jean bag.

  “I packed some stuff for you.”

  “Weed and weapons!”

  “Clothes,” Vinny said through a chuckle, handing Sasha a duffle bag. “This one’s weed and weapons.”

  Sasha dropped the bags to the floor, making her way to the nightstand in search of a pre-rolled joint. “I don’t know, man.”

  “About Cash?”

  “Well yeah, but…”

  “Dez,” Vinny said, in almost a sneer.

  Vinny’s attempt at tough did little to mask the hurt in his voice. It seemed wrong for Sasha to talk to him about Dez, but he was the person she always turned to for this kind of shit…before. If the crease on his brow got any deeper, then she’d stop.

  “Dez looked at us like he’s been waiting for us to take off together,” Sasha said, abandoning her search of the ashtray to comb through the scatter of cigarette packs. “He wasn’t even surprised when he found out you were Tyler’s—” She slapped her hand over her mouth. Some idiotic part of her brain actually believed if it weren’t said aloud, it wouldn’t be true.

  “Yeah,” Vinny said, low and drawn out. He walked toward Sasha, her every muscle growing stiff. His arm brushed her chest as he reached down, opening the top drawer of the nightstand. “I might’ve said a few things to Dez.” He pulled out a joint, its white paper gleaming as he lit his zippo. “Things we said we wouldn’t say, that day in the woods.”

  Vinny’s words came out between puffs of smoke. The sweet aroma cloaked the stench of betrayal, so she didn’t lay into him.

  “You can bet Dez was surprised then.” Vinny took another hit, passing the joint to Sasha. “So was my face, when it started getting pounded.”

  “Why’d you do it?”

  “When I got those pictures, Dez freaked. Said we should all forget about you. That you forgot about us.”

  “What pictures?” Sasha asked.

  Another trip into the nightstand’s drawer and Vinny pulled out a manila envelope. He dumped the envelope, spilling large, glossy prints of her face onto the bed. Half the pictures had Rosalie’s address in the background. The others, close-ups of her kissing Rosy, and Liz, and Michelle, were tasteless jabs. No street signs in those photos. Their sole purpose was to turn those who loved her against her. Only one kind of evil would deploy such a vicious tactic.

  “Fucking feds,” Sasha yelled, pushing the photos to the floor. “I was wondering why they didn’t pick me up a year ago. They wanted me on the property so they could poke around.”

  “They weren’t the only ones who wanted you on the property so they could poke around.” Vinny jabbed his finger at Sasha’s stomach and she swatted his hand away, biting back a smile. Hope brimmed in his eyes. He wanted so much from her, a kiss, her love, the recognition of fathering her child. All she had to give was the roach burning her fingertips and a pat on the arm.

  Sasha walked to the door, grabbing the bags from the floor. Huffs and grumbles flowed behind her. It wasn’t easy to ignore her best friend’s pain, but she stepped into the sun’s warmth without looking back.

  ***

  Special Agent Philip Daniels

  “Agent Daniels! We just got word on the bug. She’s leaving town.”

  Daniels jumped up from his desk, pushing past the young agent and tearing ass down the hall. According to his watch, he still had two hours before he could legally pick the Ashby perp up for questioning again, but time zones confuse things.

  The director looked up from a stack of papers on his desk, grumbling as Daniels burst into the makeshift office in this commandeered building. Must be the hideous view of a shitheel town that had his superior in a huff. He’d turn around, wait ‘til the old crab downed a pint of scotch, but that hillbilly bitch wasn’t getting off that easy.

  “Sir, our girl’s leaving the state. I’m gonna bring her in now. I’ll take the slow route back, circle the town to stall for time.”

  “Agent!” the director hollered, stopping Daniels in the doorway. “I just got my ear chewed off for forty-five minutes by the attorney general. This Ashby case is closed.”

  “But sir—”

  “No. It’s over, Daniels. She’s got friends in high places, and their feet stomp hard from up there.”

  “That bitch murdered Rebecca.” Daniels tried to stop it, but his fist drove into the wall through the crumbling plaster and hit a beam.

  “You’ve been working this case hard, Phil,” the director said in a stern tone. “You’re overdue for a vacation. Why don’t you take a week off, get your head together?”

  “I don’t need a week off.”

  The director rose from his chair, his large hands clamping onto his thick leather belt. “Well, now I’m not asking. Go get yourself a bottle of Makers Mark and get past this.”

  “I can’t do that.” Daniels stormed down the hall, past his office and the agent still waiting in his doorway. He didn’t give a fuck about grabbing his shit. All those years of compiling case files could’ve been spent watching his daughters grow. The countless hours of footwork should’ve been time he used to flirt with his wife. It would’ve meant something, if he had taken out the heart of organized crime. But because one skanky cunt fucked all the right people, everything he’d worked for was circling the proverbial drain. There was no way he could just let this case go.

  ***

  Sasha

  The clunk of a semi as it hit a pothole ripped Sasha from sleep, and the hum of tires brought a smile to her lips. She rolled onto her side in the sleeper cab, staring out the wide windshield of her father’s old semi. A thin beam of the setting sun cut through bushy trees. The flashes of light, the whirl of green leaves whizzing by, let her forget. For just that minute, while tucked between backpacks and fleece blankets, life was normal. She was just a girl in a truck, with her best friend riding shotgun. She could hold onto that fantasy, but it would only be for herself. Everyone else would still see the empty shell of a woman she had become.

  A jolt shook the cab, carrying Sasha’s body up. “It’s bumpy as a motherfucker without a trailer.” She leaned against the passenger seat, and Vinny handed her a lit cigarette. It still didn’t sit right with her. Not the cigarette, that hit her nicotine deprived spot just right. It was Dez. He should be sitting in that driver’s seat, not some man she barely knew. They couldn’t have gotten that far. She should make them turn around, swap out the dud for Dez.

  “Where are we?” Sasha asked, coughing as cigarette smoke stung her parched throat.

  “We just cut into Maryland,” Vinny said through a yawn, stretching.

  “What!”

  Leather crinkled as Vinny turned in his seat, staring at Sasha with judgemental eyes. “You’ve been asleep for six hours.”

  “Shit.” There goes her plan of kidnapping Dez. “I hope you got some sleep.”

  “He’s been snoring this whole time,” Cash said, pulling a joint from behind his ear.

  Cash only took one quick puff then passed it directly to Sasha. The dude wasn’t so bad. He just…wasn’t the person she wanted in that seat at this moment.

  “You want me to take over?” Sasha asked, almost nervous to wield a big rig after so long.

  “Nah,” Cash said. “I’ll sleep when we get there, figure I’ll be doing a lot of motel squatting.”

  Sasha passed the joint to Vinny, leaning back to take a good look at the man behind the wheel. A Colt .45 tucked in a holster, outline of a snubnose through the jeans at the calf. Cash wasn’t as dull as the sack of muscles he looked like. Maybe he would prove useful.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Sasha said, still staring at Cash. “It’s just, your big ole backwoods ass would stick out like a sour thumb.”

  “What about him?” Cash pointed at Vinny, who paused mid-toke.

  “Vinny’s good with propers, always has some smart-ass shit to say, like them. Probably all them thick books he’s always reading.”

&nb
sp; “I am pretty damn refined,” Vinny said, tugging the ends of his coat, the joint flopping in his mouth.

  “Oh yeah, just look at you, man.” Sasha plucked the doobie from Vinny’s lips, handing it to Cash.

  “It’s cool,” Cash said after a quick hit. “I know why I’m here, but I ain’t no snitch. You know what I mean?”

  Sasha did, and it meant everybody knew about her and Vinny. How Dez could even look at her face without slugging it, she’d never know. The shame he must feel. Just the sound of her name must twist his stomach, the way her gut twisted in his absence. She should’ve stayed gone, but fucking Vinny. When she got back to Kentucky, if Dez was still there, she’d find a way to make it up to him, whether he liked it or not.

  ***

  Dez

  Dez pulled a picture from his pocket, gliding his thumb along its worn surface. This photo had gone everywhere with him for the last five years. He’d squandered hours staring at it. A long crease ran across its center, but that didn’t matter. Sasha’s face was etched into his brain. He thought this faded image of her scowl was the only thing that kept his heart beating. That was before he touched her, got dosed with her electric vibe.

  “That was Sasha,” Otis said, hanging up the phone.

  It was news Dez already knew, he could tell at the first ring, but hearing her name set off a whirlwind of shivers.

  “And?” Only one word, yet it still erupted from Dez’s mouth in a pathetic quaver.

  “They just got to Queens. I wrote all the motel’s info down.”

  It sounded like Otis wanted to say more, but that was all Dez got. Not one hint that Sasha missed him, loved him, needed him. The TV cut off, replaced by a VCR’s whirl. Tyler was rewinding that video, again, to watch it for the billionth mind-grating time.

  Otis’s hand landed on Dez’s shoulder, and he almost swung. He wasn’t even angry, yet the strongest heat prickled every stitch of his skin.

  “Why don’t you take a break?” Otis said, ripping the picture from Dez’s grasp. “Have a cigarette.”

  Fresh air, and the ability to listen to his own thoughts instead of doped-up muppets, would be amazing. A soft mattress and a Sasha that hadn’t been trampled under the world’s heavy boot would be even better. In this life, he took whatever he could get.

  “Thanks, man,” Dez said, rising from his chair and snatching the picture back.

  While kissing Tyler on the head, Dez got sucked into an ice cream run. Not a bad task. Any excuse to keep busy seemed all right in his book.

  Dez only got two steps away from the hospital’s front door. The aim was to sneak into that alley and spark a bone, but damn it was far from Tyler. He had the rest of his life to smoke joints, but the hospital cafeteria would be closing soon and he had ice cream to fetch.

  After one last drag, Dez flicked his cigarette to the ground. He turned toward the hospital’s door, catching a glint of metal in the glass. A crack rung in his ears. Pain didn’t even become a factor until his knees hit the ground. That’s when the thump in his head pulsed so hard it blurred his vision.

  The curve of a baseball bat raced into view then…black.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Vinny

  Vinny thought he’d get at least twenty minutes to stretch, shower, roll a few joints. These were important things, necessary things, that Sasha was grossly neglecting. He got two phone calls worth of weed into his system, which equaled to half-a-joint, and she was standing in the motel’s doorway tapping her foot.

  “Just hang out with Cash then,” Sasha said, walking out the room. “I’ll be back.”

  “No!” Vinny practically shoved the joint in Cash’s hand, running out the door after Sasha. “Damn girl, trying to ditch me already?” He’d be pissed, except the buzz of the city around him sent him into a trance. Eight o’clock at night and people still hustled along the sidewalks. So many buildings, packed in rows and twinkling as they rose to the dark sky. Some dude in a suit, holding a clunky device to his ear, plowed into him then had the nerve to yell, “Fuck you!” It was awesome.

  “Hey! Fuck you, buddy,” Sasha shouted, turning to flip the guy off.

  “This place is cool,” Vinny muttered, gawking at the line of taxis they strolled past, all filled with more people.

  “No, it’s not. It fucking sucks here.”

  “C’mon.” Vinny nudged Sasha with his elbow, and she grumbled. “You think every place fucking sucks.” More grumbles, laced in crystal-clear obscenities. Just like old times. It should’ve brought tingles, but all Vinny felt was a slice to the heart.

  “We’re here.” Sasha stopped beside a long red carpet, leading to two large men blocking a glass door. “Just be cool, which means quiet, and do everything I say. These guys have a bunch of weird rules.”

  “I feel like we should’ve prepped for this more,” Vinny whispered, smoothing back his hair.

  “Nah, it’s good. You’re cool. Come on.”

  Vinny was cool, all right. In fact, his spine was frozen stiff. Unless he wanted to stand on the sidewalk all night, gawking at city folk, he needed to plant his hip at Sasha’s side.

  The men nodded at Sasha, opening the doors, and Vinny forced his legs to hurry after her. He stepped through the double-doors, and his jaw dropped. By the looks of the old stone building, he was expecting a wide-open room with a single table. Maybe even a boxing gym. Yet he stood in the lobby of a classy restaurant. It was like walking onto a fifties movie set, fully equipped with the big-titty tiny-dress hostess who flounced toward them.

  “Sasha!”

  A rush of perfume struck Vinny first followed by the sight of a curvy woman groping Sasha. The woman dragged her red-tipped fingernails up Sasha’s back, brushed her lips along Sasha’s neck. Vinny adjusted his now tight pants, looking away to hide his grin.

  “They got AJ,” the woman said in her shrill eastern accent.

  “I know.” Sasha tried to pry the hands off her body, but the woman was going strong. “That’s why I’m here. Tony’s waiting for me, doll. I gotta run.”

  “Come see me later?”

  Sasha walked away from the chick’s whiny plea, and Vinny followed. Before he could get out one snarky comment, a waitress latched onto Sasha while balancing her tray of drinks.

  “You’re back!” the waitress said, kissing Sasha on the cheek. “Did you hear?”

  “That’s why I came,” Sasha said, gliding her hand down the arch of the woman’s back.

  The waitress pulled Sasha to an empty spot at the bar. Vinny looked around, but not one head turned their way. The waitress didn’t even glance at him as he walked next to Sasha. Everything about the place, its tables full of robot-like people, the dim lights and glimmers of jewels, left an eerie vibe.

  “I’ve been so scared,” the waitress whispered, setting down her tray to run her hands up Sasha’s chest. “I thought they’d run in here and shoot up the place, but now you’re back.” A bare knee slid between Sasha’s legs, the woman holding tight. This chick was laying it on thick, right in front of him, in the middle of this creepy restaurant where people didn’t notice shit.

  “I got business to take care of, babe.”

  With that, the chick dismounted, grabbed her tray, and winked. “Call me later.”

  Vinny watched the woman’s hips sway as she headed toward the scatter of tables. “You’ve been busy.” He didn’t tear his gaze from the eye candy around him. He already had Sasha’s glare down pat.

  “It’s…not what it looks like.”

  “Uh-huh. Doll? Babe?”

  Sasha leaned closer to Vinny, shielding her mouth. “So I don’t mix up names.”

  “Uh-huh!”

  Sasha’s smile lit up the smoky room, blocking out everything else. It’d been ages since he’d seen that glow, a glow capable of blinding the average man not accustomed to such a shine.

  “Just hang here.” Sasha slapped the bar and like magic, a clean-cut, thin-mustached man appeared to wipe the pristine area in front
of Vinny. “Get whatever you want. I’ll be right back.”

  Vinny almost chased after Sasha, but the weird mobster rules she mentioned kept him rooted in place.

  “What can I get ya, sir?”

  “Sir,” Vinny muttered. Jesus Christ. He would’ve run a comb through his hair if Sasha had bothered to tell him they’d be traveling back in time to hit the swankiest club in 1950.

  “Whatever’s on tap,” Vinny said, watching Sasha cut across the room.

  “We have seven drafts on tap and one specialty barrel.”

  Vinny’s gaze remained glued to Sasha as she walked up three small steps to a private dining area. The men sitting around the long table up there were different than the other people in the restaurant. For starters, these guys were looking right at him.

  “Budweiser,” Vinny said, leaning against the bar to commence a proper stare down.

  ***

  Otis

  Otis peeked into the hallway, again. Dez should’ve been back by now. Hell, the man could’ve driven to Tennessee, got thirty ice cream cones, and still would’ve been back twenty minutes ago.

  “Where’d Daddy go?” Tyler asked, snuggling into the pillow.

  “He’ll be right back, buddy,” Otis said from the doorway.

  “You already said that, twice. I’m tired. I need Daddy to tell me a story.”

  Tyler’s lips started to pucker, his eyes squinting. The kid would start bawling any second, and Otis wasn’t high enough to deal with that shit.

  “Hold tight, little man. I’ll go look for him.” Otis hurried down the hall, poking his head into the waiting room.

  Kev jumped up from a chair, away from his flock of porn stars who had come to check on Tyler an hour ago and never left.

  “You seen Dez?” Otis asked, keeping his eye on Tyler’s door.

  Kev shook his head, stepping into the hallway. “Not since before the girls showed up.”

 

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