Sasha turned her gaze to the window, leaning into a gentle breeze. “I stole one of those teddy bears when I was nine. Two years later, I found out what was in them, ripped the head off, and smoked that shit. It was all dry and flakey, nasty.”
Vinny’s laugh filled the cab, pushing a smile onto Sasha’s lips.
“Is it weird,” Sasha asked, stealing the cigarette from Vinny’s mouth, “having your brother back around?”
“Sort of. Dez is crashing at my place for a few days until he gets set up. That’ll be weird. I got used to living alone.”
“You should tell him to beat feet. He treated us like shit when we were younger.”
“Yeah right. He’d probably kick my ass then take my room.” Vinny smirked, but a hint of fear shined through.
“Dez does have a mean right hook.” Sasha peered across the cab, frowning.
“Yeah.”
Brakes whistled as Vinny steered off the highway and onto their ramp. They merged onto a skinny road, heading up into the hills, and he sighed. “I can’t wait to get out of this truck. My ass is numb.”
***
The sweet smell of sticky bud wafted from the clubhouse, and Sasha closed her eyes, inhaling the scent deeply. Vinny stood beside her, leaning against the front bumper of the semi to join her in staring at the rowdy swarms of people trampling their clubhouse.
“Weed,” Sasha said, stretching as she walked toward the voices that flowed over loud music.
Two men burst from the front door, tumbling down the porch steps while locked in a backwoods brawl. Sasha steered her gaze from flying fists and spurts of blood, looking at Vinny. “One in the morning and it’s still jamming. Here, gimme the keys.”
“Sweet. I gotta take a leak.” Vinny thrust the keys into Sasha’s palm and squeezed his way inside the clubhouse.
Sasha stepped around the bloody men on the ground and pushed through the growing crowd. She wasn’t even two feet inside when her mother waved her over. Tiny leather skirts and near nonexistent tops surrounded Sasha, yet somehow she managed to walk through the room with her eyes high.
“It’s all good,” Sasha said, handing the keys to Otis and reaching for her mother’s joint. “Felix says hi.”
“I doubt that.” Ellen yanked her hand away, blocking Sasha from the roach in her fingers. “Felix hates me. Always said—”
“You weren’t good enough for his brother from another mother. I know. I’ve heard it.”
Ellen snickered, passing the joint to Otis.
“Hey, Sasha, will you give me a hand unloading?” Otis asked between hits.
“Shit. I just got back, man.”
Otis held out a tiny smoking stub of a joint. “Please.”
“All right,” Sasha said, as if she could deny a request from her road captain. “Just give me twenty minutes to get my head on straight.”
As Sasha walked from the clubhouse, Dez caught her eye. He sat on the small couch, a cute blonde under each arm. Sasha slowed her steps, listening as she passed.
“My fist shattered the whole side of this guy’s face. That’s why they gave me seven years, but overcrowding…”
Sasha stopped short, her glare shooting to Dez. He flinched and she recoiled, then rushed out the door. She almost made it off the porch when Dez called out from behind her. “Sasha!”
“What!” Sasha spun on her heels, staring straight into Dez’s eyes.
Dez strolled into the doorway, smirking as he leered down at Sasha. “You know how shit was handled in the old days, when two club members wanted the same position?”
Chatter lulled to a hush around the compound, and Dez raised a brow. He waited for something, Sasha to argue or maybe throw a punch, but she kept her lips shut and her face blank.
“They had to slug it out,” Dez said, the words carrying chills. “I say we settle this the old-fashioned way.” He lifted his arms at his side, and his stare locked on her face. “If you can drop my ass, the spot’s yours.”
Beside the echo of music, a stillness clutched the
Learning to Kill: Stories