“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.