creaks ringing out as Sasha galloped down the steps. She ignored Candy’s smile and gestured to her pickup truck.
“Come on. I’ll give you a lift home,” she said, opening the passenger door.
“But I just got here.” Candy slapped on a pout then climbed into the cab.
Sasha hurried to the driver’s side, hopping in. “Nothing’s going on today. There’s no reason to hang around.” She cranked the engine to life, tiny pebbles kicking up as she sped toward the front gate.
“What’s the rush?” Candy asked, slumping in her seat. “I hang out here all the time. You’re making this look shady.”
The truck’s tires chirped when hitting the pavement, and Sasha buckled down on the gas. “And you can keep hanging here…” Her fingers drummed the steering wheel, her gaze locked on the road.
“But?”
Sasha looked at Candy, darting her stare away at the slightest hint of skin. Those legs…she wanted to slip her hand between them so badly.
“But,” Sasha said in a quaver, “we have to stop seeing each other.”
“Is that what we’re doing? I thought we were just fucking when you felt like it.”
“And you have to stop talking about me,” Sasha said, hardening both her stare and her voice. “This isn’t a game. If people find out, you’ll just get bounced from the clubhouse, but I’ll get thrown in the cellar to bleed out a slow death. Do you understand?” She parked in front of Candy’s house, turning to stare at the fidgety girl in the passenger seat. “Please tell me you understand.”
“I understand. I’ll zip it up, I swear.” Candy sprang forward, clutching onto Sasha’s arm. “My mom’s out of town. Come inside. We can spend one last day together.”
Sasha closed her eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of lavender as Candy leaned closer.
“I just wanna feel your fingers on me,” Candy whispered, “inside me, one more time.”
“No.” Sasha yanked her arm away, pushing Candy back. “Just go. Forget I ever existed.” The instant the words left Sasha’s mouth, a chill crept into her spine. A light gasp streamed from the passenger seat, but Sasha kept her eyes down.
It wasn’t until the truck rocked from a door slamming shut that she looked up at Candy walking away. A tear escaped her clutches, carving a cool path along her warm cheek. She put the truck in gear and drove away from the locks of flowing scarlet hair.
***
After about two hours of pounding shots at the local bar, a numbness overcame Sasha. A slash still scraped her heart, but at least she didn’t care anymore.
“One more, Jack,” she muttered, sailing her glass down the bar.
“You’re pretty lit up, Sasha. You drivin’?”
“Holy shit!” Sasha slapped her hand on the faded bar, glaring at the man behind it. “I didn’t know you started working for the fuzz, man. See, and I thought you were a bartender.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jack poured another double of whiskey, placing it in front of Sasha.
Before the sting hit her throat, a hand crashed onto her shoulder.
“What’s this, one of them trucker skanks?” a man slurred from behind her.
“Nah. She’s got a jacket on,” another said, his beer spilling at Sasha’s side.
“Did you steal that jacket, darling? ‘Cause I don’t think a sweet little thing like you—”
The sloppy grasp on Sasha’s shoulder slid down her back, and she jumped to her feet. The stool banged to the ground, and she slipped her hand into her pocket, fingers looping into brass knuckles. She glared as three men inched toward her.
One drunken flinch set off a chain reaction of fists. Metal pressed against Sasha’s skin as her knuckles slammed into the corner of a jaw. A hit rocked her gut, another cracking her cheek, and she dropped to her knees. While teetering, Sasha barreled her brass-covered fist into a man’s nuts.
Before the smirk could leave her bloody lips, a kick sent her crashing into the bar. Stools clattered atop her, clearing once boots
“Come on. I’ll give you a lift home,” she said, opening the passenger door.
“But I just got here.” Candy slapped on a pout then climbed into the cab.
Sasha hurried to the driver’s side, hopping in. “Nothing’s going on today. There’s no reason to hang around.” She cranked the engine to life, tiny pebbles kicking up as she sped toward the front gate.
“What’s the rush?” Candy asked, slumping in her seat. “I hang out here all the time. You’re making this look shady.”
The truck’s tires chirped when hitting the pavement, and Sasha buckled down on the gas. “And you can keep hanging here…” Her fingers drummed the steering wheel, her gaze locked on the road.
“But?”
Sasha looked at Candy, darting her stare away at the slightest hint of skin. Those legs…she wanted to slip her hand between them so badly.
“But,” Sasha said in a quaver, “we have to stop seeing each other.”
“Is that what we’re doing? I thought we were just fucking when you felt like it.”
“And you have to stop talking about me,” Sasha said, hardening both her stare and her voice. “This isn’t a game. If people find out, you’ll just get bounced from the clubhouse, but I’ll get thrown in the cellar to bleed out a slow death. Do you understand?” She parked in front of Candy’s house, turning to stare at the fidgety girl in the passenger seat. “Please tell me you understand.”
“I understand. I’ll zip it up, I swear.” Candy sprang forward, clutching onto Sasha’s arm. “My mom’s out of town. Come inside. We can spend one last day together.”
Sasha closed her eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of lavender as Candy leaned closer.
“I just wanna feel your fingers on me,” Candy whispered, “inside me, one more time.”
“No.” Sasha yanked her arm away, pushing Candy back. “Just go. Forget I ever existed.” The instant the words left Sasha’s mouth, a chill crept into her spine. A light gasp streamed from the passenger seat, but Sasha kept her eyes down.
It wasn’t until the truck rocked from a door slamming shut that she looked up at Candy walking away. A tear escaped her clutches, carving a cool path along her warm cheek. She put the truck in gear and drove away from the locks of flowing scarlet hair.
***
After about two hours of pounding shots at the local bar, a numbness overcame Sasha. A slash still scraped her heart, but at least she didn’t care anymore.
“One more, Jack,” she muttered, sailing her glass down the bar.
“You’re pretty lit up, Sasha. You drivin’?”
“Holy shit!” Sasha slapped her hand on the faded bar, glaring at the man behind it. “I didn’t know you started working for the fuzz, man. See, and I thought you were a bartender.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jack poured another double of whiskey, placing it in front of Sasha.
Before the sting hit her throat, a hand crashed onto her shoulder.
“What’s this, one of them trucker skanks?” a man slurred from behind her.
“Nah. She’s got a jacket on,” another said, his beer spilling at Sasha’s side.
“Did you steal that jacket, darling? ‘Cause I don’t think a sweet little thing like you—”
The sloppy grasp on Sasha’s shoulder slid down her back, and she jumped to her feet. The stool banged to the ground, and she slipped her hand into her pocket, fingers looping into brass knuckles. She glared as three men inched toward her.
One drunken flinch set off a chain reaction of fists. Metal pressed against Sasha’s skin as her knuckles slammed into the corner of a jaw. A hit rocked her gut, another cracking her cheek, and she dropped to her knees. While teetering, Sasha barreled her brass-covered fist into a man’s nuts.
Before the smirk could leave her bloody lips, a kick sent her crashing into the bar. Stools clattered atop her, clearing once boots
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