Ashby Holler (4 page)

Chapter Four

Sasha

A high-pitched ring pulled Sasha from a deep sleep. She slipped her head under the pillow, only dulling the phone’s blare. When the noise finally stopped and a heavy silence returned, she closed her eyes. It was no use. She’d already glimpsed the light of a new day. Her brain wasn’t shutting off now.

The phone screamed once again, and Sasha slapped the nightstand. She grabbed a lighter, a handful of cigarette butts, and an empty beer bottle before finding the phone. The ring stopped once she lifted the receiver. She considered hanging up, but the idiot in her pulled the receiver under the pillow.

“Hello,” she grumbled.

“Hey. Did I wake you?”

Candy’s silky voice sent a flutter from Sasha’s chest to her gut and right into the deepest parts of her soul. “No. I was up.” She moved the pillow aside, clutching onto the phone’s wide mouthpiece. “Crazy party last night, huh?”

“Are you dating Vinny?”

“What?” Sasha sat up, the phone’s cord yanking its base from the nightstand.

“Ellen was telling everyone you two are a thing.”

“Is that why you gave Otis a blowjob in the parking lot?”

“You saw that?” Candy asked softly.

“A lot of people saw that.”

There was a long pause. Sasha could see Candy’s cute frown and the girl’s remorseful eyes clearly inside her mind. If they were face to face, she would wither against Candy’s smooth skin. Hell, she almost crumbled through the phone.

“Sasha—”

A clicking noise cut off Candy’s words, and Sasha groped for the phone’s base.

“Hold on a sec.” Sasha clicked a skinny red button, flashing over to the other line. “Yeah.”

“Oh, hey. It’s Vinny.”

“So formal. Use the phone much?”

“I…umm…”

“What’d you want?” Sasha asked, almost hanging up before she even got an answer.

“I really need to talk to you before the meeting.”

Sasha moved a wall of beer bottles away from the clock on her nightstand. “We got an hour. Just come over now.”

“No, I can’t. I—”

Sasha groaned. Vinny could babble for hours and never about anything major, which was why she clicked back over to Candy. “You still there?”

“Of course,” Candy said in a throaty whisper. “I always wait for you.”

For just a second, a fleeting thought crossed Sasha’s mind. She could jump in her truck, pick up Candy, and drive to San Francisco. They could open a flower shop or maybe sell makeup. It was a nice thought to have, for just that second.

“You busy tonight?”

“No,” Candy said, almost before Sasha could finish the question.

“I’m gonna come pick you up later, like nine or ten.”

“Should I wear something pretty?”

“Nah.” Sasha tried to sound cool, but the frown stuck on her lips warped her words into ones filled with gloom. “I just wanna talk. You know.”

“Oh. Yeah, I ah…see you then.”

With a click, the line went dead. Sasha gathered up the phone and returned it to her nightstand, rising from the bed.

***

Light spilled into Sasha’s room as she opened her door, forcing her back a few steps. The cigarette stuck to her chapped lips decided to waft its smoke right into her eyes, making the whole sunshine situation much worse. She pushed a pair of shades up the bridge of her nose, thumping down the narrow stairs.

“Caffeine,” Sasha muttered, her feet dragging across gravel. She climbed the porch steps, and Kev blocked the clubhouse door.

“It’s almost noon,” Kev said, crossing his arms to bar her from squeezing by him. “Are you just getting up?”

A mix of a grunt and a grumble erupted from Sasha’s lips, coaxing Kev aside. Her eyes locked onto a steaming pot of coffee. The scent of liquid energy filled her lungs, and she hurried toward the aroma, nearly tripping when a tall blonde chick stepped in front of her.

“Hey, Sasha!”

“Hey, umm…”

“Robin!”

“Right.” Sasha moved to the side, but the chick followed like a shadow.

“Are you busy right now?” Robin asked. “I was gonna step outside for a smoke.”

Sasha glanced around the now-trashed clubhouse. The usual batch of women decorated the bar while most of the crew crowded into the backroom. Thankfully, none of them had noticed her.

“Sure. Just,” Sasha pointed around Robin to the silver urn on the bar, “coffee.”

“Oh! I’ll get that for you.” Robin turned, glass clinking. “No cream, five sugars. Right?” She peeked over her shoulder, a sly smile on her red lips.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Robin handed Sasha a mug and headed for the porch. “Come on.”

While sipping her coffee, Sasha enjoyed the sway of Robin’s ass in tight leather pants. She strolled to the porch, sitting on the bench. In every attempt to be casual, she eyed the woman beside her. Feathered hair straight from a bottle, bright eyeshadow in hues of blue and green. A regular bleached Barbie.

“Are you going with Vinny?” Robin asked, cringing as if expecting a slap for an answer.

A chuckle burst from Sasha’s lips. That seemed to be the question of the day. “No.” Except that wasn’t the game they were playing. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She lit a cigarette, passing it to Robin before popping one in her own mouth. “Why, you into him?”

“No,” Robin said, a little too fast. “He’s not extremely sexy at all.” She batted her eyes, which wavered in fear. “Please don’t beat me up.”

“Why would I beat you up?” Sasha asked, taking another sip of her coffee.

“I didn’t know about you two, and I was laying it on kinda thick last night before you got here. I might have touched his—”

“Whoa! I don’t need to know all that. Vinny is free to do whatever he wants with whoever he likes.”

“I get that.” Robin scooted closer, leaning in and bringing the scent of Halston with her. “You have to be a different type of gal around these men, hard. Even if it really doesn’t bother you, I’ll still keep my hands off. Until you’re done with him, anyway.”

“Thanks,” Sasha said through a grin. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re not scary at all. We should hang out some time.”

Sasha flicked her cigarette across the lot, holding back a snicker. “I guess we could chill, do chick shit. You like shooting guns?”

A giggle skirted from Robin’s lips, but it didn’t hold a candle to the ones in Candy’s arsenal. “I never shot a gun, but I’d like to learn.”

“Okay. Maybe after the meeting we—”

“Sasha.” Vinny gripped Sasha’s shoulder, and she flinched, spilling a drop of coffee on her pants.

“Goddammit, Vinny.”

Sasha handed the mug to Robin, jumping to her feet.

“I gotta talk to you,” Vinny said, tugging on her arm.

Sasha pulled away, brushing at the stain. “You’re lucky these pants are brown, asshole.”

The thump of boots rattled the porch. A chill traveled up Sasha’s spine, locking her in place. She could only stand there and stare at the brick shithouse of a man who’d walked into the clubhouse, at the last face she saw before passing out after the lesson her mother had the club teach her when she was fourteen. Desmond Archer. Sasha crept forward, watching his long hair tap the holler’s emblem of his leather jacket.

“Your brother’s out of jail,” she muttered, glancing at Vinny.

“I’ve been trying to tell you since last night.”

“Fuck. Dez?” Sasha slumped against the doorway, watching Dez walk into the backroom. “He’s gonna want the sergeant at arms spot.”

“I know,” Vinny said softly.

“He’ll probably get it too. He has seniority over me.”

“I know,” Vinny muttered, his eyes low.

“Fuck, Vinny!” Sasha stormed inside, making a beeline for the backroom. Her mother released Dez from a tight embrace as she walked through the door.

“Sasha, look who’s out,” Chewy said.

Dez turned, stopping to stare at Sasha. His eyes scanned every inch of her body. She could almost feel the intensity of his glare, like the thickness after a lightning storm.

“Sasha? Damn, you’ve grown.” Dez stepped closer, tugging at the flap of her jacket. “You’re wearing a skin.” He looked at Ellen. “She’s at the table now?”

“Her and your little brother made prospect about three years ago. Wow, you really have been gone a while, huh?”

“Almost six years,” Dez said, shooting Sasha a harsh glare. “Where’s Ron?”

“Oh shit.” Ellen grabbed a beer from the small fridge behind her, handing it to Dez. “We lost Ronny, Jay, and Mad Dog last month.”

“What?” Dez grabbed the beer, downing half the bottle in one gulp.

“Satan’s Crew tore through town, things got ugly. Here,” Ellen gestured to the long glossy table, “take a load off.”

Dez moved toward his old chair, and Kev grabbed his hand.

“Sorry, brother,” Kev said, looking down. “I was voted master of mayhem after you left.”

“Shit, Ellen. I lost my position.”

Vinny and Otis walked into the room, shutting the door behind them, and Sasha dropped into her seat before she ended up in a corner.

“Here it comes,” she mumbled beneath her breath as Vinny sat in his seat beside her.

“Sorry, Dez,” Ellen said, taking her spot at the head of the table. “But someone had to put the parties together.”

“Nah, it’s cool.” Dez settled into the chair at the end of the table, casting Sasha a quick leer. “People, parties, it wasn’t really my thing anyway.”

Once everyone took their seats, Ellen lit a joint and passed it to Chewy. “Not much has changed,” she said, looking at Dez. “Chewy is still V.P. Otis is road captain. We have the sergeant at arms and two runner spots open. Yesterday our vote was…interrupted, so you’ve got perfect timing.”

Dez rubbed the stubble on his chin, eyeing the empty seat at Ellen’s left. “Sergeant, huh!”

The room fell under a blanket of silence, all eyes shifting to Sasha.

“Am I missing something?” Dez asked, glancing around the table.

“You missed a lot,” Sasha said, leaning back in her chair.

“Sasha’s been gunning for that spot,” Ellen said, biting back a smirk.

“Oh yeah?” Dez turned to face Sasha, and his grin dropped once he glimpsed her narrowed eyes.

“Sasha really stepped up when we needed it,” Chewy said.

“She found the biker fags’ warehouse and firebombed it,” Kev added, shooting Sasha a grin. “And yesterday—”

“A little girl, protecting the club.” Dez snorted, shaking his head. “You all trust her with your lives?”

“Let’s start with something easier,” Ellen said. “I nominate Vinny as runner.”

Chewy nodded. “I second that.”

“All in favor,” Ellen said.

Sasha slouched in her chair as the patched members voted. Her eyes drifted over, into Dez’s glare. It looked like he wanted to fuck her and fight her at the same time. Creepy, yet a tingle slithered beneath her skin, lifting the hairs on her arms. She turned to Vinny, who took a thin patch marked
‘
Runner’
from her mother’s hand.

“I nominate Dez as sergeant at arms,” Otis said, his stare fixed on his lap. “Sorry, Sasha.”

Sasha looked at the faces around the table. They all avoided her glare except for her mother, who was brimming with satisfaction.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to vote on this yet,” Chewy said, stroking his long, gray beard.

“All right. Tell you what.” Ellen fished two sets of keys from her pocket. “We got two runs today. Kev, you take Dez. Get him caught up.” She passed the key with a red tab to Kev and slid the other set to Sasha. “And you can show Vinny the ropes.”

Ellen rose from her seat, peering around the table. “We’ll reconvene the vote later.”

Sasha grabbed the key from the table. The key’s metal ridges pressed into her palm as she squeezed her hand into a fist. Once the room cleared with only her mother remaining, she rose from her chair. Their eyes connected. Her mother lifted her chin and crossed her arms. Sasha lowered her glare. Every member of the club knew Charles Ashby, the true but now deceased president of Ashby Trucking, wanted Sasha in that sergeant’s seat. They also knew an argument with the new president would only end well for the new president.

Much like a punk would do, Sasha kept her gaze on the faded wood floor and walked out of the room.

Chapter Five

Ten minutes. They got ten minutes down the interstate before Vinny started tapping the steering wheel. Sasha kept her gaze out the passenger window. Colors melded as trees whizzed by. The whistle of the diesel engine warmed the ice in her veins, until…

“So…”

Vinny’s voice cut into Sasha’s one second of peace, and she exhaled loudly, but that didn’t stop him from blabbering on.

“You let me do some really dirty things to you last night.”

Her hand flew to her forehead, as if trying to create a barrier between them. It wasn’t working.

“Things I’ve never done with anyone else before,” he continued.

Sasha turned to face Vinny, catching a hint of puppy love behind his electric blue eyes. “You can file all those things away in your spank-bank, ‘cause it’s never happening again.”

“C’mon. I
know
you had a good time.”

Vinny’s hand landed on Sasha’s thigh, and she shoved it away. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

“Damn.” Vinny lit a cigarette, hurling glares between puffs. “If you don’t want to be with me, why’d you fuck me?”

Sasha shrunk into her worn cloth seat, as far away as possible. “I was lonely. I wanted hands on me. It didn’t matter whose they were.”

“Ouch.” Vinny flicked his ashes out the window, staring at the road ahead.

Hurt spanned his face, and a weight tugged on Sasha’s heart. The urge to comfort him drew her hand out. A pothole rocked the cab, and she pulled back.

“Gimme your skin,” she said, reaching into the back compartment.

“Why?”

Sasha held up a mini sewing kit. “I’m gonna sew your patch on.”

“I don’t get you.” In rough yanks, Vinny pulled off his coat. “At all.” He delivered a harsh glare along with his jacket.

Her hands went straight to work, but the stitches couldn’t mend the rift that now lay between them. “You need this patch on when we get there or we’ll both get shot.”

“You don’t have a patch.”

“Everybody knows me. I’ve done this run a million times.”

“Whatever. Just tell me when to turn.”

That bitter fringe in Vinny’s voice, the stiff edge that cut the air…more reasons she hated herself for fucking her best friend.

“My plan,” Sasha said meekly, without glancing up, “was to treat you like shit to keep from leading you on. I didn’t want you to know I had a good time last night. I didn’t want you to think we were…”

“That’s a stupid plan.” Vinny’s tense body loosened, a hint of a smile lifting his cheeks.

“I like what we have. I really don’t wanna fuck it up.”

“Tell me about this run,” he said, his tone, look, mood, all back to the normal, chilled Vinny mode.

“It’s a seven-hour trek south to Gulfport. We park at a dock and wait for the boat from Cancun. You give the Mexicans the briefcase, and they load the trailer. One hundred pounds on a pick-up.”

“Oh shit! Really?”

“Yep.” Sasha glanced across the cab between throwing stitches, Vinny’s eyes growing wider each time. “So if you ever get pulled over on the way back, you better have your finger on the trigger. The weed’s stuffed in teddy bears and crated up, but you never know. Sometimes the fuzz is just another biker-douche in disguise. That’s how they got Mad Dog.”

“I didn’t bring a gun.”

Sasha dropped her hands, the needle piercing leather. “You went on a run without packing proper?” She lifted the flap of her jacket, the butt of a gun strapped into her holster. “I got ya this time, but—”

“This time?”

“Yeah. You’ll be ridin’ solo soon, so pay attention, especially when we deal with Felix.”

“Where’s the other truck going?” Vinny asked.

“They’re doing a drop-off. They took the red truck, that’s ten pounds, to our buyer in Chicago. I’ll go with you on drop-offs until everyone’s comfortable. They’re always more intense than pick-ups.” Sasha looped the thread, pulled tight, and snipped the end.

“There you go.” Sunlight shined off the runners badge as she held up the jacket. “A patched member of Ashby Trucking. You should be proud. I’m…proud of you.”

After dropping the coat in Vinny’s lap, Sasha wrapped her fingers around the wheel. “Put it on.”

Slowly, Vinny released his control over the eighteen-wheeler. He slithered into his second skin and pulled the collar snug against his neck. He rested his palm atop Sasha’s hand, and his gaze fell to her for a split second.

Sasha slid from his grasp, moving back into her seat. It wasn’t Vinny acting different. He always pawed at her, flashed playful grins, proposed lewd acts. It was her. Sometime between last night and this morning, she forgot how to be cool. Sasha spun toward her window. She’d give herself twenty minutes to get her mojo back before she started faking it.

***

Dez

“You guys are pretty serious about this Sasha bullshit, huh?” Dez asked, although it was a stupid question. It only took him one glance to see the fire in her stare, which burned so bright it made him want to follow it to the ends of the Earth.

Kev shifted into ninth gear, stepping on the gas. “Sasha’s a lot different since Ellen had you and the guys…”

“Teach her a lesson.”

“Yeah.” Kev rubbed the side of his neck, his nose scrunching. “I guess. I still don’t know what she did. It must’ve been major to earn a beat down like that.”

“I’m not telling you,” Dez mumbled from behind the flame of his zippo, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Nah, that’s cool. I’m just saying, you got sent away the next day so you don’t know what it was like for her.”

Dez sat back, dropping his glare. He knew the aftermath of a beat down, received plenty as a child, though he never thought he’d deliver one to a child. The day one of Sasha’s bones cracked under his boot haunted him. It would always haunt him.

“She had a broken jaw,” Kev rambled on, as if chatting about the features on a new Ford pickup and not the damage Dez inflicted on a little girl. “Her one eye was swelled shut for days, and she had this limp, still happens when it’s rainy, but Ellen wouldn’t let Sasha see a doctor or rest. The next day, Ellen had her mopping the clubhouse floor. The girl couldn’t even stand. It was—”

“I don’t think this is what Ellen meant by getting me caught up.”

“Oh shit.” Kev looked at Dez, grimacing. “Sorry, that’s a total downer. You probably wanna hear about all the hot tail running around the clubhouse these days.”

“Fuck, finally. Now you’ve got my attention.”

***

Sasha

Sasha peered in the side mirror of the big rig, scooting to the edge of her seat. “Cut the lights. Pull up to the dock and kill the engine.”

Gravel crunched under the weight of a creeping semi. The engine clunked, its rumble giving way to a chorus of cicadas.

“Now what?” Vinny asked.

A grin swept Sasha’s lips. The shake in Vinny’s voice reminded her of the first time they boosted a car together, eight years ago. It was kind of cute.

“Now, we wait.” She stared out the windshield at the last sliver of sun, setting fast beyond shaggy trees. “Keep one eye on the gulf, the other on your mirrors.”

Sasha tucked her jacket behind her holster, glancing around. “This is private property. Cops don’t come this deep into the swamp, so if you hear anything strange out here—”

“Finger on the trigger.”

“Yep. The boat will come from that direction.” Sasha leaned across the cab, pointing to the gentle waves out Vinny’s window. Her chest brushed against his arm, and he turned to face her. Warm breath flowed over her cheek, and her throat clamped shut. She backed away, swallowing hard. “You’re supposed to be watching.”

“Right.” Vinny adjusted his perfectly fine belt, his eyes darting back to his window. “What am I watching for?”

“When the boat gets close, it’ll blink its lights. Three times, once, then twice. Got that?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you flash the running lights twice.”

Vinny recited the information in a near whisper when a pattern of lights flickered from the dark stretch of water. The trees lit up as he pulled a knob on the dashboard and a boat’s motor revved.

“You ready?” Sasha asked, opening her door.

While nodding, Vinny reached for the handle and missed.

“Relax.” Sasha jumped to the ground. “They’ll smell your fear.” A grin spread across her lips as she strolled to the front of the semi. When Vinny stepped beside her, she slapped on a tough leer, nodded, and walked toward the dock.

A charter boat moored beside the concrete wharf, sending little waves to rush onshore. Dim beams of moonlight shimmered off an emblem of a falcon amid flames, the words
Gulf Runner Tours
scrawled in red along the bow.

“Is that my Sasha?” Felix climbed from the boat, his short stubby legs barely clearing its tall side. He stopped on the pier, smoothed the ends of his white suit, and slid his fingers along the brim of his matching hat. With outstretched arms, he traipsed forward. “My girl.”

“Uncle Felix,” Sasha said, her smile spreading wide.

After scooping Sasha into a tight embrace, Felix stopped to eye Vinny. “Who’s this?”

Before Sasha could answer, a flood of men surrounded Vinny—rifles raised, guns cocked. Vinny froze mid-step.

“This is Vinny. He’s our new runner.”

The barrels remained aimed at Vinny’s chest, his nervous eyes on Sasha.

“
¿Está la policía?
”
Felix asked, staring into Vinny’s eyes.

“I, uh.” Vinny’s cheeks turned red as he shrugged.

“You know.
El hombre
. The fuzz.” Felix nodded, and the man beside him patted Vinny down.

“Nah, he’s cool.” Sasha inched back, allowing the men to roughly frisk Vinny. “Known the guy since second grade. Poor bastard hasn’t stopped following me since.”

“Smart man.” Felix waved his hand, sending his men back to the boat. He placed his hands on Sasha’s shoulders, rubbing softly. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence, my dear?”

“Just training the new guy. And I missed you, of course.”

Felix chuckled, his chest heaving, as a line of men hauled crates to the back of the truck behind him. “I’m happy to see you, dear, but…isn’t this a little beneath you?”

Sasha frowned, her gaze dropping to the still patchless breast of her jacket. “We’ve had some issues. Satan’s Crew. You might be seeing a lot more of me.”

“
Pinche maricon
,” Felix muttered, his expression turning venomous for the briefest of seconds. “It’ll be nice to see your face more often, but I’d like to see a patch on that skin.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Sometimes I don’t know what Ellen is thinking. Ahh, if I were twenty years younger, I’d whisk you away from all this. But then, you’re too good for me.” Felix glided his thumb along Sasha’s cheek, sparking a smile. “You know you can call me anytime if the shit gets thick. Your enemies are my enemies, no matter who they are.
¿Comprendes?
”

“
Si. Gracias
. You’re too kind, Felix.”

“Only to you, my dear, only to you.”

The cargo door of the semi slammed shut. Men gathered by the dock, clinging to their rifles, and Sasha looked at Vinny. “The case,” she said, motioning to Felix.

Vinny crept forward, handed over a black briefcase, and nodded.

“I don’t know about this one, princess.” Felix rubbed his smooth chin, eyeing Vinny. “Too stiff, fidgety.”

After another round of hugs and soft Spanish words, Felix left Sasha’s side and returned to the charter boat. Her smile faded as the little red light of the stern disappeared behind mist.

“How is that man your uncle?” Vinny asked, scanning Sasha from head to toe. “You don’t look Mexican.”

“He’s not my real uncle.” Sasha glared at Vinny like the dummy he was, walking toward her truck. “C’mon, let’s hammer down. It’s a long ride home.”