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.”
Sasha held her arm out stiff. “Joint. Need joint.”
A chuckle lifted Dez’s lips. “I got ya, man. Bed first.”
“Yeah, all right.” Sasha took Dez’s hand, wobbling to her feet.
Chapter Eight
Sasha lay in bed, listening to the chirp of birds. The small amount of sleep she managed had cleared her drunken mind but did little to heal her sore body.
“Fucking chicks,” she muttered, crawling from bed. No one but a woman could’ve sent her running to Jack’s bar, practically looking for trouble. She stripped off her shirt, stepped in front of the mirror, and stared at her reflection. Shades of blue, purple, and yellow spanned her left side, from thigh to ribcage. Her face was only a tad better. Fat lip, puffy cheek, and a few scrapes.
“Little girl.” She hit the glass with her scabbed knuckles, shaking the closet door and rocking the image that failed to match her mentality.
She dressed slow and careful. Each move inspired a new wave of sharp throbs. As she tied on her bandana, the phone rang. Piles of messy clothes tripped up her steps. She hopped to the side to keep from trampling her jacket and reached for the screaming receiver.
“Yeah.”
“It’s a go,” Jack said in a rush. “They already told the cops a group of blackies jumped them.”
“Jesus.”
“I think they were a little relieved. I mean, who wants to admit they got beat down by a girl?” Jack said with a bit of a chuckle.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“Oh shit. Not that you’re a regular girl or anything.”
“Every word is getting worse, asshole. I like you better when I’m drunk.”
“Ha! I get that a lot,” Jack said, glasses clinking in the background. “Anyway. They’re all at my place now, waiting for the cash.”
“All right. I’ll be there in an hour or so, but I ain’t coming alone.”
“I’ve been a friend of the club a long time, Sasha. I don’t want no trouble with you.”
“Nah, it’s more of a heads-up than a threat. Thanks, Jack. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Before Sasha could hang up the phone, a light knock rattled her door. “Grand central fucking station around here,” she muttered. “What?” she yelled.
“It’s Vinny.”
A slew of grumbles erupted from Sasha’s lips at the sound of his voice. She popped a cigarette in her mouth, flicking her zippo to life. “Come in.”
The door crept open, and the chain of a wallet swung into its frame as Vinny peeked inside.
“Oh, you’re up,” he said, stepping inside the room. “I thought—”
“What? I’d be a blubbering pulp.”
“No. I don’t know.” Vinny shut the door, kicking aside the mess to clear a path to Sasha. His eyes lifted to her face, and he grabbed her hand. “Sasha, I…”
Sasha backed away, shaking her head. Whatever dumb shit was about to tumble from Vinny’s mouth, she didn’t want any part of it. In the blink of an eye, his expression went from one of love to annoyance.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Vinny yelled. “I would’ve chilled at the bar. I was so bored last night.”
“I don’t know. I—”
“And Jack’s bar, really. Only inbred fucks go there. What the hell?”
A shrug was all Sasha offered. She couldn’t tell Vinny how she ran to Jack’s looking for a fight to dull the pain of losing Candy. It would make her look like more of a punk than she felt.
“At least you look okay,” Vinny said, running his hand along Sasha’s cheek. “Pretty bad shiner, but—”
“Oh my god.” Sasha pushed Vinny’s arm from her face, stepping away from him. “What are people saying?”
“You really want to know?”
“No.” Sasha snatched her jacket off the floor, muffling a groan. “Did she send you up here?”
“Yeah.” Vinny sat on the edge of her bed, fishing a semi-bent joint from his pocket. “Ellen was worried. She wanted me to check on you.”
Something between a snort and a giggle vibrated Sasha’s chest. “Yeah right.” She lit her zippo, holding out the flame. “What’d she really say?”