Ashby Holler (25 page)

Otis didn’t say anything for a while. Perhaps he wanted to save the lecture, lay it down while a baby ripped its way from her birth canal, or maybe he could see she’d had enough. Regardless of the reasons, Otis didn’t scold and she wasn’t complaining.

“Do you think I brought the heat down on us?” Sasha asked, avoiding Otis’s eyes and the truth that lie within them.

“I think the mess with Satan’s Crew brought the heat on us. You were just the one who walked them through our door.”

Shame pulled Sasha into a slump. “What should I do?”

“Nothing.” Otis knocked a fresh cigarette against his lighter, packing the loose tobacco into its sleeve. “If you get hauled in, you picked up a girl at a rest stop, and she wanted to do drugs so you dropped her off at the next service station. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna grab a gas can and head up to the cellar, do our yearly burning a little early.” Otis got up, pointing to her jacket. “What are you gonna do about Dez?”

Her hand flew to the lump in her pocket, which created an even bigger lump in her throat. “I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”

Otis shrugged, lighting his cigarette. “You could always tell him to go fuck himself, marry me.”

The slow nod of Otis’s head and the playful gleam in his eyes pushed a smile onto Sasha’s lips. “Don’t tempt me.”

“You already know you’re gonna say yes. Now it’s just about how long you wanna make the poor guy suffer.”

Sasha snickered as Otis strolled off the porch. A few more minutes as a single woman then she’d go inside and end Dez’s suffering, essentially starting a new phase of torment.

Chapter Thirty

Ellen

Rocky cliffs rose higher, and Ellen leaned back in the Chevelle’s bucket seat, loosening her grip on the steering wheel. Four hours, two states, and every dive bar in between, but not one hog in sight. She was actually afraid, not of death or the destruction of her tiny empire. Her fear stemmed from the thought of losing Dante.

The train wreck of her brain settled once she turned onto the compound. Stiff drinks and the quiet countryside sat just up that hill, the two things that could salvage this hellish day. However, when she glimpsed the amount of cars scattered around the lot, she knew only one of those two things would be possible.

Ellen parked in front of the garage, killing the engine. Music and laughter replaced the rumble of horsepower, provoking her last proverbial straw to bend. Some dude leaned over the clubhouse’s rail, regurgitating about a pint of JD, and that straw snapped. An all-out party tonight. If Otis hadn’t lost his mind, she’d beat it out of him.

Red tinges clouded her vision. Somewhere between plotting Otis’s death and scouring the sea of faces for Dante, Ellen found herself standing in the middle of the clubhouse. Her eyes zeroed in on Otis, and he cringed. People crowded all around her, and the word congratulations echoed in the air, a lot.

“Shit, Ellen,” Otis said, weaving through the mob to reach her side. “You had me worried.”

“So you threw a party? Are you fucking serious?”

Otis shook his head, pointing to the small group at the bar. “It wasn’t me. This is all Sasha and Dez’s doing. I tried to get them to hold off but,” he drew her close, his lips grazing her ear, “without telling them the truth, I had no solid reason.”

“When’s the wedding?” a woman yelled over the thump of speakers.

Ellen pulled back, gawking up at Otis. “Wedding?”

“They’re getting hitched,” Otis said through a grin.

The room faded to black, only Sasha shining through. Ellen watched her little girl smile and sparkle. In that moment, her child held the radiance of a fierce woman. The spoiled brat would return, like always, but for this moment, she’d enjoy the glimpse.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Otis asked.

“No.”

“Come here,” Otis said, cutting into the crowd.

Ellen followed him into the backroom, shutting the door on a large percentage of the racket. “I’m so pissed and so happy, which is making me pissed off even more.”

“It’s all right.” Otis pulled a flask from his pocket, handing it to Ellen. “This party is also a trap. Kev, Vinny, and the prospects are stationed around the compound. They’re loaded up and on the prowl.”

“What did you tell them?”

“To stay low, keep an eye out for anyone creeping into the big house. Or anywhere else they shouldn’t be.”

“Smart.” Ellen took a step toward Otis. The ridges of his chest looked so inviting, a perfect place to rest her frantic head. “Otis, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her arms circled his waist, and he held her close.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to find out.”

Otis’s deep voice echoed in his chest, singing in Ellen’s ear, and she squeezed him tighter. “I’m sorry to drag you into this mess with your cousin, but Dante, he gets under my skin.”

His big, safe hand cupped her cheek before gliding down the side of her neck. “I tried to warn you about him, twenty years ago when you saw him at my party that night.”

Ellen grinned, peering up into deep, brown eyes. “Yeah.”

“And when you said you’d marry him.”

“Right.” The comfort of his touch grew cold, and she slinked away.

“Then, when you ran off with Ashby.”

Ellen plopped into a chair, kicking her feet onto the table. “If you’re so intuitive, why’d you follow me?”

“You know me, I’m a masochist. Can’t get enough of the pain.” Otis grinned, heading for the door. “You coming? It’s your daughter’s engagement party, hopefully her only one.”

Ellen settled back, the legs of her chair creaking. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Otis nodded then slipped out the door, into the blare of music and excited voices. The sounds of celebration usually quelled her never-ending stream of thoughts. Not tonight, though. A moment she’d been dreading had come to pass this night. The choice. After years of slinging angles, she had to pick between the man who drove her wild for the last two decades and the club that kept her sane.

She reached for a bottle of whiskey, her boots thumping back to the floor. Hard liquor burned its way down her throat, replacing the scorch of regret. If she had a soul, she’d sell it for five minutes with Dante. She could sway him. Given time, he’d fall right into the fold, and he knew it. That was the reason he stayed away.

A cheer sliced into her solitude like a knife. Ellen sunk down against the wooden back of her seat, clutching the bottle to her chest. The party could wait. She needed a few more swigs of whiskey and to make a life-altering decision.

***

Sasha

Sasha lingered in and out of the conversation. She really did want to know about the property for sale up the mountain, but her attention couldn’t break from the backroom. Dez squeezed her leg, and she looked at him. His glare demanded an answer, which she would gladly give if she had any idea what the fuck he’d asked.

“You feeling all right?” Dez asked, running the back of his hand over Sasha’s cheek.

“Yeah.” Sasha pushed his arm away, jumping off the barstool. “I’ll be right back.”

A usual five-second walk to the backroom took five fuckin’ minutes, thanks to the bombardment of people Sasha barely recognized. The barrage of well-wishers ended with Otis, who guarded the door to the backroom like a pit-bull.

Sasha gestured for Otis to move aside, and his eyes narrowed. A snicker flew from her lips, as if he could stop her. She hip-checked Otis from her way, opened the door, and strolled inside the backroom.

“Hey,” Sasha said when her mother looked up from the bottle in her hand. She closed the door and crept toward the table. “Can we talk?”

“That’s never a good opener.” Ellen kicked the chair beside her out, its legs grating the wood as it slid toward Sasha. “Take a load off.”

On the drop into the chair, Sasha eyed the joints in the ashtray that centered the table.

“Did you stop smoking?” Ellen asked, grabbing a joint and lighting it up. “You don’t have to. I smoked my whole pregnancy, and you came out just fine.”

“Awesome.” Sasha took the joint, drawing in a long hit before passing it back. “I wasn’t sure,” she said through a tunnel of smoke. “When I was in New York, I had a talk with Antonio Lazzari.”

Ellen snickered, taking a gulp of the near empty bottle in her hand. “And what did Tony say?”

“That Dante is his brother and that you were with him, before you met my dad.”

“Yeah. That was a long time ago.”

Two men and one woman, the subject hit a little too close to the collar for Sasha. She didn’t want to ask her mother these questions, didn’t care to know the truth, but needed to figure out how to find her own answers. “You must really love him, Dante. To still be messing with him after all these years.”

Her mother leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“I guess, I’m just wondering. If you could go back, do it different, would you have picked Dante instead?”

A smile spread across her mother’s lips but not the happy kind. More like a lost-to-destitution simper.

“I don’t give much thought to what if’s and should have’s.” Ellen hit the joint, handing it to Sasha. “We gotta live in the now and what’s to come.”

“Dante wasn’t in that fire, was he? You wouldn’t burn him alive.”

A far-off gaze gripped her mother’s stare, one Sasha had never seen before, one that scared the shit out of her.

“No, he wasn’t. But you’re wrong. I would burn him alive, if I had to.” Her mother rose, the typical cool glare breezing in to blow away the hint of sadness. “Come on, we’re missing your big party.”

Sasha smiled when her mother’s hand slipped into her own. A small tug and she was on her feet, moving toward the door.

***

Dez

Dez scanned the crowd, looking for Vinny or Kev. He’d even settle for one of those weird lookalikes right now, but all he got was more freeloading rednecks.

A hand ran up his back, rough and sloppy. Not Sasha. Dez turned, latching onto a soft wrist without bothering to look at its owner.

“Ooh. Feisty,” a silky voice all but breathed on his neck. The first thing Dez saw was tits. Huge, overflowing, way too tight halter-top tits. Right, the brunette with blue eyes.

“So, Dez,” she said, sliding her finger down his chest. “Why don’t we duck out of here real quick, while you’re still single?”

The chick rubbed on him like a cat in heat, and he inched away. “I’m not single.”

Candy stepped beside Dez, crossing her arms. “You better back off, Nancy, or you’ll be picking your crooked teeth off the floor.”

Nancy waved her hand and stomped into the crowd, stopping to throw a wink Dez’s way.

“Sorry, Dez. That bitch is going for the grand slam,” Candy said with a cute little huff.

“What’s that?”

“You know. When you ball all the club members? I’ll scalp the bitch if she gets near Otis. Word is, she’s only gotten Vinny and Kev so far.”

Dez nodded. A grand slam, it seemed like a noble accomplishment for a woman. That’s when he remembered one of his clubmates was a woman. “How’s that gonna work with Sasha? She’s a runner.”

“If you want a real grand slam, you gotta get her too,” Candy said, as if Dez were dense. “I guess I’m closer to a grand slam than Nancy.”

“What?” Dez said with a bark that made Candy flinch. “You were with Sasha?”

Her jaw dropped, but those green eyes grew wide. “Oh shit. You didn’t know? I’m not a giant slut or anything. We were together for years, but she broke up with me a long time ago, like two whole weeks.”

“What!”

“Oh shit. I gotta run, Dez. Congratulations?” Candy shrugged, scurrying toward Otis.

Broke up, dated. Dez understood a little fun here and there, but for Sasha to date a chick for years. That meant something.

A rush of voices erupted from all sides, laughter stinging his ears. Too tight, too many people. He staggered, lost in a flock of eyes, when an icy breeze grazed his cheek. The sliver of crisp air promised a chance at escape, and Dez barreled toward it. His legs didn’t stop once outside the front door. He kept going, down the porch, across the lot, and toward his truck.

“Dez! Wait up,” Otis called out, jogging after him.

“No. No more pep talks.”

Dez opened the door to his truck, and Otis slammed it shut.

“You don’t know Candy,” Otis said, blocking Dez’s reach from the pickup’s door handle. “She over-exaggerates. What she calls dating, a normal person would call the occasional screw.”

“You’re lying to yourself.” Dez took a step back, waving his arm toward the clubhouse. “You’re all lying to yourselves, especially Sasha.”

“Dez, listen—”

“Two weeks ago, that’s when Sasha decides no more women. Out of the blue and when I just happen to come around. She’s using me as a cover, to keep her mother happy, to get my spot at the table. Probably planned this whole pregnancy shit.”

“You’re wrong.” Otis grabbed Dez’s arm, holding tight. “She did change when you came around. You changed her. You can’t see it, but you clear up all the confusion in her mind.”

Dez yanked himself from Otis’s grasp, backing away. “No. I’m confusing her more. Why do you think she’s picking up chicks at rest stops?”

“That bitch targeted Sasha.”

Otis dropped his head, and Dez glimpsed Sasha on the porch steps. Their gaze met, her lips curved up, and a pang shot through Dez’s chest.

The view of a dark angel fell behind Otis as his stare raised. “When you look in her eyes, you see love. Nothing else should matter.”

Sasha stepped beside Dez, peering up at him.

“Is everything cool?” she asked.

Dez saw the shimmer in her eyes. More intense than concern, yet softer than lust. True love.

“Yeah.” Dez looked away, hiding the bit of rage that still lingered in his stare. “Just getting some fresh air.”

“Wanna sneak off with me?” Sasha took Dez by the hand, a sly smile crossing her lips. “Get into some trouble.”

Sasha inched closer to Dez, her chest gliding along his own. It felt right. Heat still surged with her slightest touch, and his hands still wanted to grip her ass.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Weird.” Sasha wiggled her shoulders. “I just got a chill.” Her grip on Dez’s hand tightened, and she led him toward the garage.