briefcase into Sasha’s hands, delivering a harsh stare.
When Sasha stood, her eyes landed on Dez. If rage had a face, he was wearing it. A cyclone of liquid fire churned in her stomach. She dropped her head, tapping Vinny’s arm on her way out the door.
“Grab your pain meds and a handful of joints.”
***
Taillights zoomed by. The tires of the last big rig of Ashby Trucking hummed against pavement as they tore down the freeway, and Sasha glanced over to the passenger seat.
“I’m okay, really,” Vinny said, brushing chucks of shattered glass from his seat.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You keep looking at me.”
“Sorry.” Sasha sunk behind the wheel, hiking her foot onto the cushion. “It’s just…it’s good to see you in that seat.”
“After I took that bullet, I was huddled on the floor. It was like the fourth of July, loud, but all I could hear was your voice.”
“Vinny, I—”
“Not like that.” Vinny turned to face Sasha, wincing when his shoulder rubbed the seat. “I could hear you telling me to stop being a little bitch, get off the floor, and grab a gun.”
“Sounds about right.” Sasha smirked.
Vinny sat back, groaning. “Can you pull over for a second?”
“Yeah.” Sasha hit the brakes, veering to the shoulder. “You okay?” The truck rocked to a stop, and she reached for Vinny then pulled back, afraid a single graze would break him. “What’s wrong? Maybe you should chill in the sleeper.”
“Here, just,” Vinny inched closer to his armrest, “come here for a second.”
Sasha maneuvered to her knees, slanting toward the passenger seat, and Vinny yanked her onto his lap with his good arm.
“What are you doing, freak?”
“Careful now,” Vinny said through a grin. “I’m injured.”
A smile took Sasha’s lips by surprise. Her tense body withered against his chest, her legs tight on his sides. “I thought it was just a flesh wound.”
“Still, it requires a lot of attention.” His hand glided down the arch of her back. “Someone has to take care of me.”
“Really?”
Vinny’s lips floated atop hers, so close she could almost feel them.
“Yeah,” he said with barely a sound.
The heat of his breath traveled throughout Sasha’s body, cloaking her thoughts in a fuzzy tingle. Her jacket fell to the floor, and a tongue slipped into her mouth. Vinny groaned from the bullet hole in his shoulder, and Sasha winced from the bruise on her side, but that didn’t stop them from fumbling with each other’s belts.
***
Dez
Dez sat behind the wheel of his pickup truck, staring down a curvy, desolate road. His right hand gripped the barrel of a shotgun, left tapping the walky-talky in his lap. He looked across the cab, finding Ellen’s eyes fixed on him.
“How do you even know they’re coming through this way?” he asked, shifting under Ellen’s sharp glare.
“What’s up with you and my daughter? I told you to keep her in check, not fall in love with her.”
“I’m not…What the—”
“Oh, please. I have eyes.”
Dez rubbed his forehead. For some reason, he actually thought he could wipe the notion from his mind, but Sasha’s eyes wouldn’t fade.
“You must really be something,” Ellen said, leaning back to stare Dez down. “I’ve been trying to push Sasha onto your brother for years, and you get her all twisted up in days.”
“What do you mean?”
“Of course.” A smirk lifted Ellen’s cheeks. “You can’t see it. She’s been different since you came back around, less mouthy, more…chill. I like it.”
Before Dez could chew on Ellen’s words, a diesel engine whistled in the distance.
“Get ready,” Ellen said, zipping up her leather jacket.
Dez looked at a garbage truck, parked only yards away. He couldn’t see Otis and Kev inside its dark cab, but he knew they were waiting for his signal.
“Incoming,” Dez said into the walky-talky. Airbrakes whooshed as a Mack truck rounded the bend,
When Sasha stood, her eyes landed on Dez. If rage had a face, he was wearing it. A cyclone of liquid fire churned in her stomach. She dropped her head, tapping Vinny’s arm on her way out the door.
“Grab your pain meds and a handful of joints.”
***
Taillights zoomed by. The tires of the last big rig of Ashby Trucking hummed against pavement as they tore down the freeway, and Sasha glanced over to the passenger seat.
“I’m okay, really,” Vinny said, brushing chucks of shattered glass from his seat.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You keep looking at me.”
“Sorry.” Sasha sunk behind the wheel, hiking her foot onto the cushion. “It’s just…it’s good to see you in that seat.”
“After I took that bullet, I was huddled on the floor. It was like the fourth of July, loud, but all I could hear was your voice.”
“Vinny, I—”
“Not like that.” Vinny turned to face Sasha, wincing when his shoulder rubbed the seat. “I could hear you telling me to stop being a little bitch, get off the floor, and grab a gun.”
“Sounds about right.” Sasha smirked.
Vinny sat back, groaning. “Can you pull over for a second?”
“Yeah.” Sasha hit the brakes, veering to the shoulder. “You okay?” The truck rocked to a stop, and she reached for Vinny then pulled back, afraid a single graze would break him. “What’s wrong? Maybe you should chill in the sleeper.”
“Here, just,” Vinny inched closer to his armrest, “come here for a second.”
Sasha maneuvered to her knees, slanting toward the passenger seat, and Vinny yanked her onto his lap with his good arm.
“What are you doing, freak?”
“Careful now,” Vinny said through a grin. “I’m injured.”
A smile took Sasha’s lips by surprise. Her tense body withered against his chest, her legs tight on his sides. “I thought it was just a flesh wound.”
“Still, it requires a lot of attention.” His hand glided down the arch of her back. “Someone has to take care of me.”
“Really?”
Vinny’s lips floated atop hers, so close she could almost feel them.
“Yeah,” he said with barely a sound.
The heat of his breath traveled throughout Sasha’s body, cloaking her thoughts in a fuzzy tingle. Her jacket fell to the floor, and a tongue slipped into her mouth. Vinny groaned from the bullet hole in his shoulder, and Sasha winced from the bruise on her side, but that didn’t stop them from fumbling with each other’s belts.
***
Dez
Dez sat behind the wheel of his pickup truck, staring down a curvy, desolate road. His right hand gripped the barrel of a shotgun, left tapping the walky-talky in his lap. He looked across the cab, finding Ellen’s eyes fixed on him.
“How do you even know they’re coming through this way?” he asked, shifting under Ellen’s sharp glare.
“What’s up with you and my daughter? I told you to keep her in check, not fall in love with her.”
“I’m not…What the—”
“Oh, please. I have eyes.”
Dez rubbed his forehead. For some reason, he actually thought he could wipe the notion from his mind, but Sasha’s eyes wouldn’t fade.
“You must really be something,” Ellen said, leaning back to stare Dez down. “I’ve been trying to push Sasha onto your brother for years, and you get her all twisted up in days.”
“What do you mean?”
“Of course.” A smirk lifted Ellen’s cheeks. “You can’t see it. She’s been different since you came back around, less mouthy, more…chill. I like it.”
Before Dez could chew on Ellen’s words, a diesel engine whistled in the distance.
“Get ready,” Ellen said, zipping up her leather jacket.
Dez looked at a garbage truck, parked only yards away. He couldn’t see Otis and Kev inside its dark cab, but he knew they were waiting for his signal.
“Incoming,” Dez said into the walky-talky. Airbrakes whooshed as a Mack truck rounded the bend,
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