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Authors: Jamie Zakian

Ashby Holler (6 page)

BOOK: Ashby Holler
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Her tank top flew over her head, bra dropping to the floor. She turned, but her eyes wouldn’t lift to Dez’s face. Her hands, however, couldn’t keep off the ripples on his chest as he removed his shirt. When her courage kicked on, Sasha looked up from the muscles in front of her. Dirty blonde hair tumbled from Dez’s shirt, splashing over his wide shoulders, and a somewhat wicked giggle slipped from her mouth. Dez gripped Sasha by the waist, skating his lips along her neck. He pushed her to the bed, knocking a gasp from her lungs.

Sasha stared up at Dez, reaching for the button of her pants.

“No,” he said, dropping to his knees. “I want to.” He tugged on her pants, peeling the fabric free from her skin. “It’s been so long since I’ve tasted a woman.”

Dez yanked Sasha to the edge of the bed, his head sinking between her legs. The deepest groan ripped from Sasha’s chest. Sheets balled beneath her curled fingers, a tingly haze fogging her brain. Before she could gasp for air, he covered her with his body, enveloped her, invaded her. Softly, gently, Dez wrapped his fingers around Sasha’s neck and lifted her onto his lap. His hold on her throat remained light, but he thrusted into her hard, making her arched back shudder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Sasha rolled onto her stomach, slowly peeking over her shoulder. Through waves of brown hair, she watched Dez buckle his belt. When he sat on the bed and pulled out a sandwich bag of green buds, she scooted away.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be or something?” she said, propping on her elbow.

Dez chuckled, opening his bag. “You got a tray and some papers?”

Sasha slinked out from behind Dez, hopping off the bed. After tossing on an oversized t-shirt, she grabbed a small silver tray and a pack of rolling papers. She stood in front of Dez, tray in hand. If not for the bag of weed, she would’ve tossed him out. Or just left. Dez took the tray from Sasha’s grasp, gliding his thumb along her the edge of her hand. She yanked her arm away, sitting at the far end of the bed.

Shame, guilt, and awkward humiliation churned in the air, hanging over Sasha like a dark cloud. The noises Dez pulled from her, the way she squirmed…she never felt so foolish. It’d be nice if he’d just split. His chilled expression, steady hands. It only added to the thorns of embarrassment that burrowed in her gut.

The aroma of kind-bud surrounded Sasha like a warm hug. Her legs uncoiled, and she leaned toward the scent. Dez slipped a joint between her fingers, and she took a big hit. The smoke carried a fraction of worries from her body as it left. It wasn’t enough of a release, so she went in for another hit. Mid-puff, Dez’s hand landed on her thigh. Thick smoke bunched in her throat, which chose now to seal shut, and she coughed.

“Are you dating my brother?” Dez asked.

The cough turned to a full-on hack, and Sasha pushed the joint into Dez’s hand. “No.”

Dez narrowed his eyes, staring at Sasha. “A lot of people were saying—”

“We’re just friends.” Sasha was trying for an honest tone, but her words came out through clenched teeth. “People, opinions, assholes, you know how that goes.”

“Tell me about that firebombing,” Dez said, passing Sasha the joint.

“What the fuck is this?” She took a few hits, each puff renewing her barbed edges. “You don’t have to go through this uncomfortable after-sex chit-chat bullshit with me.”

“You used to be all smiles, floating around this compound. What happened to you?”

Sasha leaned back, glaring. “I got thrashed by the people I trusted most in this world. And the last five years I’ve spent earning their respect back was blown by your little stunt at the clubhouse.”

Dez held a blank stare, which grated Sasha’s already flared nerves. She jumped up off the bed, heading toward the bathroom. “It’s late. You should hit the road.”

Once shut inside the tiny bathroom, a puff of relief sailed from her mouth. She froze, waiting until her outer door slammed before turning on the water. Twenty showers wouldn’t wash the filth from beneath her flesh or cleanse the part of her that enjoyed his hold over her body. She had to try, though.

The faucet squeaked as Sasha cranked up the hot water. She stripped off her shirt, dropping it to the floor. A cloud of steam parted as she stepped into the tub, surrounding her as she stood under the scalding downpour.

 

***

 

The sun barely shined through the curtain, yet its beam was strong enough to wake Sasha from a deep sleep. For a good ten minutes, she just laid there. The courage to leave her bed never arrived, but her need for nicotine had ignited a burn in her stomach nine minutes ago. She rolled out of bed, glancing at the clock en route to her pack of smokes.

“Three! Jesus.”

A lit cigarette dangled from Sasha’s lips as she stretched. She glanced out the window, stumbling forward at the sight of red hair. Candy strutted across the gravel, putting the beauty of an autumn-crested hillside to shame, and Sasha’s forehead bumped the cool glass.

Candy headed for the stairs, and Sasha opened the window. With one hand on the railing, Candy froze. Then her bright eyes gazed up, robbing the air from Sasha’s lungs.

“I’ll be right down,” Sasha yelled as quietly as possible. She tore through her room. Dirty clothes flew through the air as she searched for semi-clean cargo pants. After slipping on a tank top, she scooped up her jacket and ran out the door.

The staircase wobbled, low creaks ringing out as Sasha galloped down the steps. She ignored Candy’s smile and gestured to her pickup truck.

“Come on. I’ll give you a lift home,” she said, opening the passenger door.

“But I just got here.” Candy slapped on a pout then climbed into the cab.

Sasha hurried to the driver’s side, hopping in. “Nothing’s going on today. There’s no reason to hang around.” She cranked the engine to life, tiny pebbles kicking up as she sped toward the front gate.

“What’s the rush?” Candy asked, slumping in her seat. “I hang out here all the time. You’re making this look shady.”

The truck’s tires chirped when hitting the pavement, and Sasha buckled down on the gas. “And you can keep hanging here…” Her fingers drummed the steering wheel, her gaze locked on the road.

“But?”

Sasha looked at Candy, darting her stare away at the slightest hint of skin. Those legs…she wanted to slip her hand between them so badly.

“But,” Sasha said in a quaver, “we have to stop seeing each other.”

“Is that what we’re doing? I thought we were just fucking when you felt like it.”

“And you have to stop talking about me,” Sasha said, hardening both her stare and her voice. “This isn’t a game. If people find out, you’ll just get bounced from the clubhouse, but I’ll get thrown in the cellar to bleed out a slow death. Do you understand?” She parked in front of Candy’s house, turning to stare at the fidgety girl in the passenger seat. “Please tell me you understand.”

“I understand. I’ll zip it up, I swear.” Candy sprang forward, clutching onto Sasha’s arm. “My mom’s out of town. Come inside. We can spend one last day together.”

Sasha closed her eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of lavender as Candy leaned closer.

“I just wanna feel your fingers on me,” Candy whispered, “inside me, one more time.”

“No.” Sasha yanked her arm away, pushing Candy back. “Just go. Forget I ever existed.” The instant the words left Sasha’s mouth, a chill crept into her spine. A light gasp streamed from the passenger seat, but Sasha kept her eyes down.

It wasn’t until the truck rocked from a door slamming shut that she looked up at Candy walking away. A tear escaped her clutches, carving a cool path along her warm cheek. She put the truck in gear and drove away from the locks of flowing scarlet hair.

 

***

 

After about two hours of pounding shots at the local bar, a numbness overcame Sasha. A slash still scraped her heart, but at least she didn’t care anymore.

“One more, Jack,” she muttered, sailing her glass down the bar.

“You’re pretty lit up, Sasha. You drivin’?”

“Holy shit!” Sasha slapped her hand on the faded bar, glaring at the man behind it. “I didn’t know you started working for the fuzz, man. See, and I thought you were a bartender.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jack poured another double of whiskey, placing it in front of Sasha.

Before the sting hit her throat, a hand crashed onto her shoulder.

“What’s this, one of them trucker skanks?” a man slurred from behind her.

“Nah. She’s got a jacket on,” another said, his beer spilling at Sasha’s side.

“Did you steal that jacket, darling? ‘Cause I don’t think a sweet little thing like you—”

The sloppy grasp on Sasha’s shoulder slid down her back, and she jumped to her feet. The stool banged to the ground, and she slipped her hand into her pocket, fingers looping into brass knuckles. She glared as three men inched toward her.

One drunken flinch set off a chain reaction of fists. Metal pressed against Sasha’s skin as her knuckles slammed into the corner of a jaw. A hit rocked her gut, another cracking her cheek, and she dropped to her knees. While teetering, Sasha barreled her brass-covered fist into a man’s nuts.

Before the smirk could leave her bloody lips, a kick sent her crashing into the bar. Stools clattered atop her, clearing once boots stomped her side. Wads of blood made her choke back her cry, a whimper seeping out instead as she hacked between kicks. She hunched over, pulling a knife from her belt. The next leg that neared got a blade to the calf.

Howls stopped the beating, and Sasha hobbled to her feet. Two men sprawled to the floor, one gasping while holding his balls as the other screamed about the knife buried deep in his leg. The last man lunged toward Sasha, his fist high. She snatched a beer bottle off the bar and knocked the guy upside the head, dropping him to his back.

“Huh!” Sasha shrugged, guzzling the bottle in her hand. Her arm dropped, and the glass slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor.

“Sorry, Jack,” she said to the stunned man behind the bar. He flinched when she reached for her pocket. Slowly, Sasha pulled out a handful of cash. “For the mess.” She laid a crumpled ball of hundreds on the bar and turned toward the front door. The room took a quick spin, blurring in shades of red. Her brain said walk and the legs followed, a neat little surprise. After ripping her blade from the man’s leg, she staggered out the door.

 

***

 

Sasha parked beside the garage, and her mother rose from her bottom step.

“Jesus fucking Christ, seriously,” Sasha mumbled. She rolled from the cab, her groan quickly turning into a wince. Her trembling hand left her achy side, and she stood almost straight, attempting a stroll toward the stairs.

“Jack called,” Ellen said as Dez walked from the shadows. “Are you for real? Look at you, a fucking disgrace.”

“What’s he doing here?” Sasha glared at Dez, who stared back with only concern in his eyes.

“He was here when Jack called. You stabbed a man?”

Ellen stomped forward, whacking Sasha upside the head. “You know Dez went down for much less. You’re in deep shit. Those assholes are on their way to the hospital. Questions, cops.”

Another wallop hit Sasha’s head, and she cowered down.

“You stupid little bitch,” Ellen yelled.

“Enough,” Sasha shouted, her hands up. “I’ll fix it.” She pushed past her mother, limping up the stairs.

Once inside her room, the urge to collapse into a corner came on strong. She shed her bloodstained jacket, crying out from the splinters of pain that accompanied every movement. She clutched the phone with her shaky fingers and dialed. As she fumbled with the receiver, she heard a man’s voice on the line.

“Hello?” Sasha said. After flipping the phone the right way, she finally heard the voice clearly. “Jack.”

“Sasha! You’re in deep shit, girl. I told you, you had enough.”

“Listen. If you go to the hospital and get those guys to leave me out of this, I’ll give them each three grand. And I’ll give you five for your trouble.”

“Really?” Jack asked, his voice making the phone vibrate against Sasha’s ear.

“Swear to fucking God, but you gotta convince them all to take the deal.”

“Shit, yeah. I’ll call you back.”

The line went dead, and Sasha moaned while hanging up the phone.

“You okay?”

Sasha jumped at the sound of Dez’s voice, relaxing with a huff.

“Beat it,” she grumbled, slumping to the floor.

“Let me see that.” Dez knelt beside Sasha, swatting her hands from her side to lift her shirt. “Oh fuck!”

A groan carried Sasha forward, and she peered down at the fringe of a giant purple mark. She sagged back, snickering through the ache. “That ain’t shit. When less than half your body’s a bruise, it’s been a good day.”

“What the fuck, Sasha? You trying to prove something to me?”

“Not everything is about you.” Sasha used the last of her strength to shove Dez, but he barely moved from her side. “I just wanted a regular drink, like a normal person, and these motherfuckers fuck with me. Now I’m getting all kinds of shit about it. This is bullshit.”

Dez dropped to his ass, scooching so close their hips touched. “Did you really take out three dudes?”

Sasha waved her hand, as if that could clear Dez’s question from the air. “I don’t know. There was a lot going on.”

“You might’ve taken me.” Dez looked into Sasha’s eyes, then away.

“I doubt it. You weren’t drunk.”

“Neither were you.” His next words failed, leaving his mouth open and chest raised.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty fucking sober now. And it sucks.”

Dez smiled, pushing a strand of blood-clumped hair from Sasha’s face. “I’d kiss you, but your lip’s all split.”

“What, not attractive?” Sasha leaned back, shrugging.

“Come on,” Dez said, climbing to his feet. “Let’s get you out of those bloody clothes and into bed.”

BOOK: Ashby Holler
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