Chapter X

"Sasha."

"Sasha. I'm sorry."

"I should have told you."

"Shut up." Sasha demanded the silence of the disembodied. "Shut the fuck up, Lance. Your dead. You're just an illusion. This. This is why I drink. This is why I can't bring myself to tell the truth to Michael. It's because of all of this. What am I supposed to say? That I hear you because of my grief over you? That medications alone can't stop. Fuck."

Sasha began sobbing through her self talk. "You lied to me. You lied to me that you were fine. All I have are theories. Theories only why you never told me about the importance of your fucking cancer. I knew you all my life." The great amount of intoxication wasn't allowing her peace of mind at this point. "You could have told me you selfish bastard."

"You were never about yourself, were you Sasha? You were always about those around you. That's why I always loved you."

"Still not going away this time?" Sasha questioned herself grabbing another bottle. Staring at herself through the shattered bar mirror. Swig after swig. Nothing was eliminating what her inner torment was reminding her like a broken record on cycle. "How about you fuck off, Lance. There's a reason why I have the medications in the first place."

Sasha had shuffled through the broken glass, wanting escape. "Fuck this. Fuck all of this." She had continued fighting with herself. "I have to get the fuck out of here. I don't want to stay here." She needed escape.

Departing her Diamond Casino Penthouse. Leaving her phone and just wanting to distance herself from those who might notice her. Heading down East Vinewood, Sasha was sprinting. Not watching where she was going, there were a few she had collided with.

"What's your damn problem lady? Drunks. I swear."

"Sorry about that. Sorry." Sasha's response being delayed, but were most uncertain. Had she be able to reciprocate to those around her?

Sasha knew she couldn't talk straight through her stumbling, but all she wanted was to get to a more isolated placed so that being within public view wasn't of question. Continuing in the direction of East Vinewood, everything seemed to blur. The passage of time almost becoming irrelevant. Reality blacked out around her.

"You always been stranded haven't you?" The voice in her head kept rambling. "I always questioned if I only worsened your state of mind. Your condition. Your overall mental state."

"Hearing your voice in my head isn't helping." Sasha spoke more loudly to herself. "Get out of my fucking head. Get out, get out, get out!"

"Any louder and you're going to cause a scene. Relax." A different voice. One that was recently familiar. "I was wondering why you weren't answering your damn phone. Are you all right?"

Sasha had zoned back into reality. More tears streamed down her face. There was no way that she was already hallucinating him. She quickly became more confused and disoriented. "Mich... Michael."

"You're drunk."

"When...?"

"Relax, Sasha. I'm here. Why aren't you monitoring your drinking? You promised."

"I've been hearing his voice."

"What? Whose voice?" Michael kept talking to try and sober her thoughts. He observed her struggling to gain back to senses. As if traumatized. "Sasha. Please. Talk to me."

"Ever since Lance's death. My grief for him has cause hallucinations. It's why I'm on medications. Medications that don't do jack shit." Sasha's barriers were breaking down. There wasn't much else that could explain such vile behavior. This included promising Michael himself that she would moderate her drinking.

Sasha's body began shivering from the gust of outside weather as Michael took off his jacket to place around her body. "I'm sorry, Michael. I'm sorry I never told you that side of me." She had leaned in hard into him. "I should have told you I was mentally unstable than how I perceived myself."

"It's all right, kid. You're all right now."

The warm embrace from Michael had been welcoming, but Sasha needed to be sure it was him. Not an illusion her mind was tricking her with. "Please. Just tell me one thing..." She had buried herself further into him. "Please tell me you're real."

"Oh. I'm real, kid. I'm very real." Michael reassured her.

Sasha knew that she must have blacked out. Where had she wandered? It was hard to construct anything that took place. Electric like shocks shot through her spine as if trying to keep her grounded. "Damn. Michael. I'm so damn sorry." Were the last thoughts she could consciously mouth.

"Can you walk, kid?" His question was met with silence. "Kid?"

Michael gave an aggravated sigh, wrapping Sasha's right arm around his neck and carried her down East Vinewood. Luckily enough for him she had wandered off not too far from the Diamond Casino. There wasn't much trouble until his presence alerted those around him at the Casino himself.

Whispers of passerbys, guests and even Casino Staff now had lingering eyes upon Michael as he carried an unconscious Sasha. "What? Haven't you been drunk before?" More people having taken notice. Michael gradually becoming more and more uncomfortable. Within his reach, Michael had pushed the button for the elevator to bring him on up to Sasha's Penthouse.

Low whispering and gossip had continued. Some had even taken notice who was in Michael's arms. "Isn't that Sasha Vercetti?" As soon as Michael turned his attention towards them, they continue walking like they never asked such a question. Michael himself certainly wasn't interested in gossip. Could you imagine the tabloids?

"Excuse me, sir." One of the Casino's Security Staff approached Michael as he patiently waited for the lift. "Can we be of any service to you?"

As the Security Staff asked that question, the elevator doors opened. Michael considered not even giving eye contact, but it was clear he was just more annoyed. "Yeah. How about you mind your own fucking business?"

The Staff giving a look of sheer anger and confusion. Michael in return watch him as the elevator shut its doors to arrive upon the Penthouse. Struggling to get through the door and taking Sasha to lay down in her bed, Michael covered her properly before reassessing his current objectives.

It didn't take long for Michael himself to notice the chaotic mess that Sasha left behind. Broken glass had been shattered behind the bar. Something he would scrape up with a broom and dustpan once located. Dumping the remains into the nearest waste basket. Finding the source wasn't even a challenge for him.

Picking up a broken picture frame and a signed photo inside... Michael knew who it was. "That must be Lance. No doubt. Must have been what broke her mirror." He stared at the picture of them. Seeing how happy Sasha appeared. She even appeared delighted. Lance had even signed it himself. Perhaps answering why it was framed.

Soon the sound of Michael's smartphone ringing had distracted him. Looking at the Caller ID, he briskly answered. "De Santa."

"Michael. The only reason I call is to ask if Sasha is alive. Safe."

"Yeah. She's just been getting drunk. Completely hammered recently. I believe what triggered this has to be Lance's Death. She broke her penthouse bar mirror. Don't worry. I'm already addressing it. I'm calling someone in the morning. I'll be getting most of the penthouse overall set up tonight. I can't say how much time I have before the party, but-"

"-I can assure you Mr. De Santa that you'll have enough time. Seeing that the family is hosting. I'll be attending personally. We'll have more plans set in place a day prior if we're lucky. Your job hasn't changed. You still need to keep Sasha safe."

Michael had considered Vercetti words. "I solely hope and wish that Aldrick hasn't discovered I'm working for you instead of him, Tommy. That guy is bad news. You don't need me to tell you that though. Because you already know."

"I've known for years, Michael. He's been envious on how, though we've had many business endeavors I trusted Lance Marston more than Aldrick and it showed. Everything from discussing business with him. Expansions even. It was all unraveling for the best of us."

"So it was bitter rivalry between Lance and Aldrick?"

"I know not what he plans with Marston's Legacy. Being that they were John's personal weaponry passed down through generations. They could be valuable to the right people. Selling them? You would need a good buyer. Unlike say jewelry... good luck finding certain suppliers."

"Yet now, Lance with his logic trusted Sasha with such controversial pieces of family history in her possession."

"Lance's death impacted Sasha more than any of us. I just have a hunch he was more than extended family to her. Aldrick found a way inside and now I know he won't quit until he acquires Marston's Legacy. Crawford knows Sasha is vulnerable."

"Tommy..." Michael was trying to find ways to break the news to Vercetti about Aldrick's recent antics. Something that was feared and would anger him at the same time. "Are you aware that Crawford has been seducing Sasha? He's been already working himself into a peculiar situation."

Michael's explanation had been met to momentary silence. Before Michael could continue a follow up, Tommy spoke up. "Please tell me you were there. Please tell me you didn't allow that bastard to follow through with his vile intentions."

"Simultaneously. I was there the same night that Sasha clearly denied Crawford all together. I may have not stepped in the middle, but I can assure you that she had no intention of falling for his charm. His obvious attempts were vile, yes, but they were also useless."

"I suppose I can't get upset with you seeing that you just got yourself involved." Tommy had sighed. "Very well. Good enough. I'll be there in a few days. Carry on, Mr. De Santa. I thank you again for your services."

"Sure. No problem." Michael responded back as they concluded their call.

Quickly resuming to sweep up the shattered glass, Michael lightly tossed both the picture of Lance and his phone onto the bar counter. "What the fuck am I doing here? All of this is all just seriously fucked." He continued to convince himself. Now watching Sasha sleeping soundly from her bedroom.

Michael knew there had to be enough equipment to get everything settled for arming the penthouse itself. With Sasha resting peacefully he had a moment to close his eyes and visualize what might take place knowing his choices and actions. There was no regrets in the back of Michael's mind. He was now Sasha's Bodyguard.

There was only a matter of time left before the dinner party and Michael's world came crashing down around him.