Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) Page 21

  Both Dominic and Grant had called. Grant left me a cryptic voicemail basically saying Marco was dead, but in some weird Mob code language, which I understood for some bizarre reason. Dominic’s voicemail wasn’t cryptic at all. He came right out and said he wanted me home, that he loved me, missed me and would protect me forever. The sincerity behind his words packed an emotional punch and sent my heart racing. Just hearing his voice made my body quiver with longing. I deleted the message before I tortured myself by listening to it over and over again like a bad love song. I broke up with him for a reason and it was hard to remember what that reason was when he said everything I wanted to hear.

  Jason came into the bedroom to find me sitting on the edge of Chelsea’s bed, with tears streaming down my cheeks. I had cried in such a free fall that the front of my tank top was wet.

  “Jesus, Nat, what’s going on?” He sat down and pulled me against his chest. His body heat felt good against my chilled skin and the comfort of being held helped slow my tears. His chin rested on top of my head and I felt enveloped by him. We stayed like that for a few minutes and he didn’t pry. Once I regained my composure, I sat up straighter and pulled away, wiping the moisture from my cheeks.

  “Thanks,” I said and sniffed, hoping I didn’t have snot running out of my nose.

  ‘Want to talk about it?” He leaned back on his arms and waited.

  “I’m finally able to reconnect with my friends and get back to living, but…” I scooted up on the bed so I was sitting cross legged next to Jason. He turned to look at me, his blue eyes studying my face. “If I go back to Philadelphia well, I’m afraid.”

  “Of what? Marco’s threats died with him.”

  “I know that.” I twisted the bottom of my shirt so it pulled tight around my waist. I took a deep breath, stretching the fabric as my lungs expanded. “I’m afraid of being weak and going back to Dom. He left me a voicemail.” I trailed off and released my shirt, leaving behind a crinkled lump that slowly unfurled, reminding me of a wadded up paper towel.

  “Do I want more than a friendship with you? Fuck yeah, but you’re not ready and I understand that. Give yourself time to heal. That’s what you need, because you aren’t weak, Nat. You’re unbelievably strong and you’re the only chick I know who’s been shot.” He smirked at me and I laughed.

  “That is pretty bad ass.”

  “You’re one bad ass biatch.”

  I playfully smacked his bare chest with the back of my hand. Who knew Jason could be so good to talk to? Aside from his relationship comment, he gave advice like Chelsea.

  “Come on. Let’s go get our cars. Plus, I’m starving and you’re taking me out to dinner.”

  “Oh, really?” He stood up in one swift movement, grabbing my arm and dragging me along with him. “Is this a date?”

  With my hands on my hips I gave him a look that had him holding his hands up in surrender. “Too soon?”

  “Yes, too soon.” I smacked his chest again before kicking him out of the bedroom so I could get dressed.

  Once we got our cars, I followed Jason to a nearby taco stand. We sat outside and ate carne asada soft tacos with the best Pico de Gallo I’d ever had. The tomatoes were so fresh they burst in my mouth. Afterwards, we said good bye and Jason gave me a hug before getting in his car.

  It was almost 9:00 when I walked in the front door to the apartment and my phone started buzzing. Apprehensive that it might be Dominic, I almost didn’t fish the cell out of my bag, but eventually did to see it was Chelsea calling.

  “Hey Chels - Happy New Year!”

  “Oh my God, Nat, it’s all over the fucking news.”

  “What is?”

  “They found Marco’s body in a field by the airport today.”

  “No shit.”

  “Yeah no shit and not only was he shot in the head, but allegedly his peen was blown off.”

  “What?” I stifled a laugh. Some guys say they love you with flowers, but Dom says it by castrating assholes with a bullet. You had to appreciate his style, and I hoped Brittany was up there somewhere celebrating.

  “I’ll probably be driving right past where his body was dumped.”

  “Well, if you see his ghost when you’re on your way to the airport, tell it to fuck off.”

  Chelsea giggled at the visual I created and switched the conversation to regular things like what she got for Christmas and how she spent New Year’s Eve with her parents. She couldn’t wait to get back to LA and to the warmer weather.

  “It’s been freezing rain or snowing every day I’ve been here,” she whined. “And my tan is fading.” I could picture her pouting into her phone.

  “Jason and I ate dinner outside tonight,” I said, rubbing it in.

  “I don’t want to hear how you ate outside.” Based on her tone, I knew she was teasing especially when she asked, “Jason, huh?”

  “It’s not like that, although he hasn’t been shy about telling me he wants more.” I proceeded to fill her in on our conversation and the blurry boundaries we seemed to have established. We talked for a few more minutes until I heard Chelsea yawning. It was after midnight in Pennsylvania, so we ended our call both equally excited to see each other in two days.

  I wasn’t anywhere close to going to bed with a belly full of tacos and energy to burn, so I booted up the laptop and logged on to Facebook for the first time in over two months. According to the red balloon, I had over 500 notifications and I immediately got overwhelmed. What was I going to tell people? I had literally dropped off the grid and certainly could not tell the truth as to why.

  Before writing anything, I scrolled through my feed and saw that one of my friends from college had gotten engaged on New Year’s Eve. Checking out other profiles revealed that another friend from college, plus a friend from high school also got engaged over the holidays. I’d heard about this phenomenon happening, where post-college, your mid to late-twenties consist of one wedding after another. The irony of this wasn’t lost on me as I changed my relationship status to “single” before posting a status update: I’m fine and living in LA with Chelsea. I’m sorry for disappearing, but it’s been complicated. Things are much better.

  That was the most I could do as I knew that post was going to create a shit storm of inquiries.

  ***

  The next day I went for a liberating run outside, each press of a heel to the asphalt expelled any lingering anxiety over Marco. He couldn’t hurt me anymore. I got back to the apartment and showered. It was another warm day so I slipped on a sundress and as I was going through my velvet pouch of jewelry, I stopped when my fingers brushed across the diamond teardrop necklace Dom had given me at my graduation party. I pulled it out, fingering the gold chain and tracing the swirl of gold holding the diamond in place before clasping it around my neck. The gem landed just shy of between my breasts. The cool metal quickly warmed to my body temperature and the weight was familiar, like I had never taken it off.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon washing Chelsea’s bedding since she was on her way home. I did a quick sweep of the bedroom, removing any of my items, even vacuuming her room because she was such a neat freak and I, well, I wasn’t.

  It was back to the futon for me, but did it have to be? I started thinking about getting my own place or seeing if Chelsea wanted to move into a two bedroom apartment, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure I was going to stay in California. A decision was going to have to be made soon.

  Chapter 30

  Chelsea roared into town like a hurricane carrying all sorts of gossip from our hometown on her gale force winds. We sat on the futon as she filled me in on who got engaged, who got knocked up and about two high school sweethearts from our class who got married right after we graduated and were in the process of getting a divorce because the guy came out of the closet. She brought back a container of her mom’s famous Christmas mint fudge and I devoured three pieces even though it was slightly stale, while Chelsea spilled the gossip.

 
“Oh, I forgot! I saw Grant and he wanted me to give you his present.” She disappeared inyo her bedroom and returned moments later with a wrapped gift about the size of a clothing box. I immediately opened it and found a framed picture underneath several layers of green tissue paper. The picture was of me, Grant and my mom from my graduation party. Grant was standing in the middle with his arms around our waists. He had always been the glue to keep our dysfunctional family unit together. I had the necklace on that Dominic had given me that night. As I stared at the image, I absentmindedly played with the diamond pendant. I lifted the frame out of the box and set it on the coffee table. I was getting ready to set the box down when I noticed a card. I opened the envelope and a Visa gift card fell out onto the floor. I picked it up and gasped at the amount. “Holy shit!”

  “What?” Chelsea asked.

  “It’s for a thousand dollars.”

  “Holy shit is right. Want to switch brothers?”

  I laughed and flipped open the regular card to read the message Grant had written in his cramped, yet very legible handwriting: Christmas wasn’t the same without you. Miss ya, sis. Love, Grant.

  My throat grew thick with emotion and I blinked away newly formed tears. Expressing love wasn’t big in our family so for him to write that meant a lot. It also made me very homesick. Not for my childhood home, but for life in Philadelphia with Grant; our impromptu lunches or occasional runs through Fairmount Park. I even missed his overprotective tendencies.

  Life fell into a relatively relaxed routine over the next month while I worked at Dirty, hung out with Chelsea, continued surf lessons with Jason and shooting lessons with Victor. I was running more frequently and felt stronger than ever. Every time an ice storm or snurricane hit the east coast, I laughed and went out to play in the California sun, making sure to post as many pictures to Instagram as possible.

  There were benefits to winter in Philadelphia and Dominic reminded me of that on the day that would have been our one year anniversary. I was at work, but it was still early so I had time to sit in the break room and eat a snack, when my cell phone buzzed. Dominic had texted me a picture of us taken at the skating rink where he took me on our first official date, the same night we first made love. In the image, my cheeks were flushed; a result of the combination of cold, excitement and the visceral reaction I experienced whenever I was near Dom. He had taken the picture with his phone, selfie-style, and my head was resting on his shoulder. Dom had tucked me against his side, keeping his arm around my waist. I smiled and traced my fingertip along Dom’s lips, remembering how soft yet firm they were and instantly felt my body warm up and tingle in all of the right places.

  “Whatcha doing?” Jason said from behind me and I jumped, quickly locking my phone to shut the screen down. Even though Jason and I weren’t together, I still felt guilty whenever I communicated with Dom. Being caught when my hormones were threatening to boil over didn’t help my body temperature to drop. I was single and still dealing with relationship issues.

  “Nothing, just playing Candy Crush.” The game was another thing restored to my life since I was able to come out of hiding.

  “Cool, well Callie wanted me to let you know she needs you on the floor. It’s beginning to get busy.” He ducked back out the door and I stashed my phone in my bag before following to catch up with him.

  “Oh, so Derek and Chelsea will be in later,” Jason said, talking loudly over the band doing a sound check.

  “That’s cool.” I knew they were going out on a date, but didn’t know the details.

  “Yeah, Derek was pretty nervous about tonight.”

  “Why?” I stopped walking and grabbed a hold of Jason’s arm. “He’s not breaking up with her, is he?” If that was the case, I needed to be forewarned. Chelsea’s last break up was a nightmare ordeal that left her meddling in my relationship with Dom, which eventually led up to our big fight.

  “No, quite the opposite,” Jason said with a wink then left me to ponder the possibilities.

  It was almost midnight when Derek and Chelsea arrived and I got my answer. The glow radiating from Chelsea could probably be seen from space. She practically skipped her way through the crowd before latching on to me with a squeal.

  “Oh my God Natalie, Derek asked me to marry him!” she blurted out in one long rushed sentence. She released my upper arms and stepped back, thrusting her left hand into my face. A simple princess-cut diamond glittered on her finger, reflecting the red and blue stage lights. “I said yes!” She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet with a massive smile plastered on her face.

  “Congrats, Chels! Let me see.” I dutifully grabbed her hand and brought the ring closer for further examination. It was gorgeous and I made sure to tell her so, which just caused her smile to expand and I was afraid her face was going to split in half. I pulled her into a hug and she returned it Chelsea-style, throwing her whole body into it with bone breaking intensity. Derek arrived with a martini in each hand, passing one to his fiancée.

  “These are on the house, courtesy of our Best Man,” he said.

  “Oh, Nat, I almost forgot…will you be my Maid of Honor?” Chelsea asked.

  “Of course!”

  Chelsea squealed again and handed her drink over to Derek so she could pull me into another hug. “I love you Nat, you’re the best.”

  “I love you too. So who’s the Best Man?” I asked since Derek was tight with both Jason and Collin who were behind the bar slinging drinks.

  “Jason,” he answered.

  Just then a customer waved at me for a round of drinks so I excused myself and got back to work. “We’ll talk later,” I said to Chelsea, giving her a kiss on the cheek before pushing through the crowd surrounding the bar.

  It wasn’t until after closing that I had a chance to absorb the news. My best friend was getting married. Chelsea had been spending a lot of time with Derek, but I never knew how serious they really were. I assumed they’d want to move in together and since Derek lived with Jason and I lived with Chelsea, one of us was going to be getting evicted, unless they moved out into their own place. I didn’t realize how distracted I was until I walked into the bathroom; a row of urinals was the first clue that I was in the wrong one.

  I tried to duck out before anyone saw me, but ran into Jason just as I was leaving.

  “What are you creeping in here for?” he teased and I felt my cheeks flush.

  “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

  “So that’s some news tonight, huh?” Here he was blocking the doorway so I was still technically inside the men’s room and he wanted to talk about the engagement.

  “It is and I’d love to chat, but not here - it reeks,” I scrunched my nose up at the odor, a rank combination of beer, farts and a melting pot of cologne.

  Jason laughed and stepped aside so I could leave. “Let’s go grab something to eat and talk, okay?”

  “Sounds good, I’m ready when you are.”

  We took Jason’s car and I shuffled through his iPod for some decent music. He had a bunch of Eminem and Drake, not the usual music I listened too. Finally, I stumbled across some Silver Sun Pickups and leaned back, listening. It was a nice night and we drove with the windows down since traffic was light and we wouldn’t be sucking in exhaust fumes the entire way. Jason drove to a 24-hour Asian fusion diner, which was packed with people in various stages of drunkenness. The air conditioner could barely keep up with the body heat.

  A petite hostess led us to a table for two, weaving through the crowded aisles with the grace of someone who has been doing this awhile. She wore the standard uniform for the diner; a Kimono style dress in a bold floral pattern that wrapped around her waist, but unlike the traditional Kimono, this one was short. A dragon tattoo covered the lower half of her left leg, the scaly tail, drawn in intricate detail, twisted around her ankle.

  Our table was by the window, which offered an exciting view of the parking lot. It actually did get exciting when thre
e black sedans with heavily tinted windows pulled in and drove towards the back of the building, disappearing from view. Moments later more dark sedans with tinted windows arrived and it made me think of the night I was assaulted by Mr. Genovese. We had left Crimson for The Speak in a procession of black Cadillacs.

  A sense of unease made me put my fork down, the Pad Thai suddenly unappetizing. A knock on the window next to me made me jump and I almost knocked my iced green tea over. Peering through the glass, I saw Victor, but only his face at first because he was wearing all black and had on a baseball cap that cast his eyes in shadows.

  “What the hell?” Jason said. “What does he want?”

  “I have no idea.” I fished my phone out and texted Victor asking him.

  Seconds later my phone vibrated and his response appeared on my display; three words that spurred me into action: Get out now.

  “Jason, we have to go.” I threw two twenties on the table, more than enough to cover our bill plus a tip.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, trying to keep up with me as I pushed through the crowd towards the exit.

  “I don’t think we really want to know. Trust me on this.” I said as we hurried across the parking lot to his car.

  We were a few blocks away when I heard gunfire and we instinctively ducked like a bullet was going pierce the rear window at any moment.

  Jason was quiet for the rest of the drive back to Dirty. Tension rolled off of him in waves and even with the window down, the air felt thick to breathe.

  He parked next to my car and I started to get out when he placed his hand gently on my arm, so I stopped, turning to face him.