Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) Read online

  “Yeah, he’ll be good as new.” Gio looked around the living room, at the blood saturated carpet by the futon and the trail of drops leading from the entryway where a pile of bloody towels sat in a heap by the door. “I’ll send a clean-up crew over to straighten this place up and take this to replace anything damaged.” He pulled out a money clip and peeled off a bunch of one hundred dollar bills.

  Gio and Jimmy left soon after that, but it was less than two hours later when Jimmy was back with the cleaners; a pale, silent bunch who went to work scrubbing the blood stains like they did it every day. They probably did. I kept myself in the bedroom behind a locked door until the apartment was quiet again. After taking a quick shower and putting on clean clothes, I went out to find Jimmy sitting in the recliner, one leg crossed over his knee, playing with his phone. The entire living room was spotless and the carpet looked brand new. Not even a pink stain was left behind. Victor was still out cold, but his color had improved.

  Jimmy looked up from his phone and regarded me with his steely gray eyes. The right side of his face twisted down in a frown from the scar tissue, but I didn’t get the sense he was angry, he just looked like it. “So, um, Victor looks better,” I said awkwardly, taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table.

  He nodded in agreement and continued to stare at me, making me feel uncomfortable on top of awkward. “I’m still amazed he made it up the stairs.” I didn’t know what else to talk about, but had to say something to fill the silence stretching out between us.

  “Victor’s a tough bastard. Did he say whether he got his job done?”

  “Uh no, he didn’t, but he was out of it and not conscious very long.”

  “Did the doctor leave instructions for his care?” I asked, glancing down at a bag of bandages and antibiotic ointment as well as two prescription bottles.

  “I’m going to be staying here to keep an eye on Victor until we can move him. I’ll take care of everything.”

  At first I was relieved that Victor’s care wasn’t my responsibility, but I wasn’t thrilled about having Jimmy staying over. It must have shown on my face because Jimmy flashed a rare lopsided smile and put his hands up in surrender.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you, just lug this guy back and forth from the bathroom and make sure he isn’t a pain in the ass.”

  “Guaranteed he’ll be that,” I said and Jimmy laughed and it looked almost painful for him the way half the scar tissue on the right side of his face bunched up.

  At that moment our patient started to waken. He groaned and his eyelids fluttered. I placed my hand on his arm. Alarmed at how cold his skin was, I stood up and grabbed the fleece throw that was draped over the back of the futon and covered him up as much as possible. He groaned again and opened his eyes, blinking several times. I remembered what it was like when I came to after being treated for my gunshot wound; cloudy, disoriented and it had felt like milk covered my eyeballs, they were so goopy and blurry.

  “Natalie?” he asked in a croaky voice. He turned his head slightly towards his friend. “Jimmy? Where am I?”

  “You’re at my apartment. Don’t worry; you’ll remember once the meds wear off. The good news is you’re going to be okay and Jimmy is going to be your nurse – sponge baths and all.”

  Jimmy laughed and shook his head. He came over to squat in front of Victor. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I am here for ya, man.”

  Victor smacked his lips together in what should be universal body language for “I’m so parched I can’t even speak” so I went into the kitchen to get him something to drink. After searching all of the drawers for a single straw, I settled on a sports bottle and filled that up with ice and water. Jimmy helped him sit up and Victor drained half of the bottle with several big gulps. He was a mess; his shirt crusty with dried blood and sweat, plus his jeans were basically cut to shreds.

  “Did you bring a change of clothes for Victor?” I asked Jimmy.

  “Yeah,” He pointed to a small black duffle bag by the front door. “Hey Victor, are up to getting changed and cleaning up a bit?”

  I showed Jimmy where the towels were and told him to help himself to whatever was in the kitchen. Then I left the apartment because I needed to find Jason and smooth things over – if it was even possible.

  Chapter 38

  Jason wasn’t at his apartment, unless he had hidden his car and was hiding out in the dark. I called and texted several times without a response. I called Dirty to see if he was there, but Callie said she hadn’t seen him since work the night before. I texted Chelsea to see if Jason had gone over there to see Derek, but the answer was no.

  “What’s up?” Her next text said.

  “Explain later,” was my response. She left it at that, knowing I would indeed tell her everything.

  Over two hours later, I returned to my apartment. Jason still hadn’t returned any of my calls or texts which only underscored how pissed off he was. Date night was officially a bust.

  ***

  I didn’t hear from Jason the next day, despite multiple attempts at contacting him. Both Victor and Jimmy picked up on my anxiety and swore to me that Gio didn’t have anything to do with Jason’s disappearance. I finally went out for a run, just to have some space since Victor was staying one more night.

  The sun was beginning to set when I returned and Victor was awake. He and Jimmy were watching some MMA thing on TV. I’d arranged to have the night off so after a shower, I put on yoga pants and a sweatshirt then made my way into the kitchen to make dinner. After seeing the pitiful sandwiches Jimmy had made the night before, I took pity on the guys and said I would handle dinner. Thick steaks had been marinating all afternoon and were ready to be cooked. I washed some potatoes and stuck them in the microwave before going down to the community charcoal grill that was located in the courtyard.

  It was nice to sit outside and just breathe. I worried about Jason and what he was up to. I knew he was pissed at me, but for him to go silent for over twenty-four hours set my nerves on edge. A part of me understood why he was upset, but Victor was only trying to get help and I was his closest option. It made me think of Grant and Dominic. If it was one of them who’d been hurt, I’d want someone to open their home and provide assistance.

  Once the steaks were done, I brought the steaming platter upstairs, made a salad and brought all of the food over to the coffee table. Jimmy helped by grabbing plates, silverware and requisite beers. Throughout the meal, I kept casting nervous glances at my phone to see if Jason had tried to reach me, but he hadn’t, instead Dominic texted me a picture of the Philadelphia Art Museum. It had been taken at night and the large columns looked like they were painted in gold the way the light illuminated them. The caption enclosed with the picture read: I still haven’t raced you up these steps. Miss you.

  I smiled at the memory. I loved running through Fairmount Park and by the museum. I had told Dom that if we raced, he was sure to lose. Just a few weeks before the drive-by, we had been eating dinner at Franco’s when I wagered that I could beat him up the steps. If he lost, he had to do the whole Rocky Balboa impersonation. If I lost, he had permission to toss me in the Washington Monument fountain that was located across from the museum.

  I texted him back: I’ll kick your ass any day of the week Grabano. J

  Moments later he responded: I’ve been training. He attached a picture of Sylvester Stallone as Rocky, his arm triumphantly rising into the air as he looked out over Benjamin Franklin Parkway from atop the museum steps.

  Practically choking on a piece of steak, I took a deep gulp of beer to wash it down.

  “What’s so funny?” Victor asked.

  “Oh, it’s Dom –he’s being a goof.”

  Jimmy and Victor exchanged a look across the table and shook their heads.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You can’t say the boss of the Philly Mob is being a goof.”

  “Fine,” I rolled my eyes. “He’s being funny.”

&n
bsp; “You seem to be on better terms,” Victor said, giving me a pointed look. “I bet that pisses your beach boy off.”

  I sighed and pushed my empty plate away, leaning back against the edge of the futon. “I’m just texting Dom. We’re friends, I guess.”

  Once again Jimmy and Victor exchanged another look. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at them. Victor laughed and Jimmy gave me a blank stare. He was good at that.

  “Here’s some advice and Jimmy will back me up here, but guys don’t want to be friends with their ex-girlfriends. If Dom’s still in touch he wants to be more than friends.”

  “I know. He’s been pretty clear about that, but he knows where I stand and that I’m with Jason.”

  “Are you sure you want to be just friends or are you leading him on?” Jimmy asked.

  I couldn’t believe I was having relationship advice night with two enforcers for the mafia. When I didn’t answer Jimmy right away, my silence must have given him some sort of confirmation.

  “Why do you even care?” I asked, suddenly feeling defensive at his judgment.

  “Because we’re bored, so humor us. I think you still love Dom. Am I right?” Victor said while grabbing another potato off of the platter.

  “God, you guys are worse than women, you know that?” I stood up with a huff and stalked into the kitchen to get more beer, Victor’s laughter following me all the way. I came back with the rest of the twelve-pack since it was turning into one of those nights. “Fine, I admit it. I still have feelings for Dom. Are you happy?”

  “That’s a question you should be asking yourself.”

  Goddamn it, Victor spun it around and went all Dr. Phil on me.

  “I like you better when you’re unconscious,” I said and Jimmy’s face cracked into a million folds of scar tissue when he laughed.

  Fortunately the rest of the night wasn’t spent kibitzing about my love life, but the conversation we did have about it left me feeling introspective and emotionally vulnerable by the time I went to bed, especially since I’d yet to hear from Jason. All I received was a cryptic text from Chelsea, via Derek, that Jason needed some space.

  The next night, when I arrived at Dirty, Jason’s car was parked over by the rear entrance. Before going in, I sat in my car and wondered if he was going to continue to ignore me. Taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves as much as possible, I went inside. The door clicked loudly behind me, echoing throughout the near empty space. Jason looked up and stopped wiping the counter when he saw me. We stared at each other, not one of us moving, until Collin said something to Jason and he looked away. Keeping my head down, I quickly walked to the employee area and put my bag in a cubby before stopping in the bathroom to check my appearance. Aside from faint shadows under my eyes and cheeks flushed more than usual, I looked okay. On the inside I was vacillating between hurt and pissed. It was going to be a long night.

  Just in the few minutes I was in the bathroom, more customers had arrived and every bar stool was occupied. Musicians for the band playing that night were hauling in their instruments and equipment. I spied a high table with three people standing around it and none of them had drinks. Grateful for the distraction, I hurried over and took their orders. I went up to the bar, choosing Rayne’s side and she placed three martinis on my tray, glancing over at Jason and giving me a questioning look. I shook my head, my lips forming a straight line and returned to my customers.

  A couple of hours later I was coming out of the ladies room and practically collided with Jason who had apparently been hovering outside the door waiting for me. Without saying a word, he pulled me to him and lowered his mouth to mine. After getting over the initial surprise, I parted my lips and let him in. Pressed against the corridor wall, I welcomed the feel of his body against mine as he moved his lips over my jawline and down my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. He smelled faintly of sunscreen and saltwater indicating he had spent the day surfing.

  “I’m so sorry, Nat,” he whispered in my ear. Before I could respond, he kissed me again, his lips bruising in their urgency.

  “Hey kids, save it for later, you’re on the clock,” Callie said from behind us and just as suddenly as we had joined, we separated.

  “Sorry,” Jason said, clearly trying not to laugh. It was a little bit like getting busted by a teacher for making out in the hall.

  “Yes, sorry Callie,” I echoed and smoothed my t-shirt, which had become bunched up.

  Callie just smirked and walked away, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

  Jason lifted a hand and tucked an errant hair behind my ear. His hand skimmed down my side until our fingers were intertwined. He leaned forward so I could hear him over the band. “I am sorry, Nat, and I know we need to talk, but not here. I worked it out with my dad to use his house in Malibu this weekend. We can head over there tonight after work, okay?”

  “Is this so we won’t be interrupted by injured mobsters?” I teased. His entire body stiffened at this comment and he averted his gaze from my face to a spot on the wall behind me, switching from hot to cold in an instant.

  “Something like that – I gotta get back,” he said and abruptly left.

  What was that all about? I asked myself and watched him walk away, his blond hair easy to track as he moved through the crowd.

  It wasn’t until the next day when I got an answer to this question and I was in no way prepared for it.

  Chapter 39

  The sound of a door closing woke me up. I was naked and lying next to Jason, my head on his chest and as far as I knew, we were alone in the house.

  Lifting my head off of his chest, I gently shook him awake. “What?” he mumbled and rolled over onto his side, giving me a view of his tanned back.

  “Someone is in the house,” I hissed, poking him in the dimples right above his ass that the blanket barely covered.

  The panic in my voice did the trick and he sat up. I did too, pulling the covers to conceal my body so I didn’t feel as vulnerable. We both listened closely to the sounds coming from downstairs. Someone was definitely walking around and they weren’t making any effort at being quiet. Jason looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand.

  “Shit! I forgot my dad was stopping by this morning.” He leaped out of bed and threw on his jeans and black t-shirt from the night before.

  “Your dad is here?” I clutched the blanket tight. “What if he came upstairs?” It didn’t matter that Jason’s dad didn’t barge into the bedroom, just the idea that it could have happened was horrifying enough.

  “I’ll be downstairs.” With that he left me alone, naked, in the bed where we had sex not even five hours earlier.

  Unable to face Jason’s dad with the smell of his son on every inch of my skin, I quickly showered and thought I heard the doorbell chime when I was rinsing conditioner out of my hair. After putting on jeans and a sweater, I dabbed on some light make-up before going downstairs. Following the sound of male voices into the dining room, I walked in and froze.

  Jason sat to next to his dad at the table, a steaming mug of coffee before him. His father, Jonathan Fletcher, had his dark brown leather briefcase open on the empty chair next to him and he was shuffling through papers. But it wasn’t these two who made me pause; it was the man who had heard me approach and turned around in his chair to look at me: FBI Agent Phillips.

  It took a few seconds for me to find my voice and these moments were spent with my eyes locked on Agent Phillips. “What’s going on?” I asked, finally looking away from him.

  Jason basically ignored me and stared deep into his coffee like he was reading tea leaves or trying to figure out if he could somehow crawl into the mug and hide. His father held a stack of papers and he tapped them against the table top to make the edges straight before setting the pile down. He crossed his manicured hands over top and looked up at me with a fake smile – all tight lips and no teeth. His eyes were the same aqua blue as his Jason’s, but lacked any warmth. “Take a seat, Natali
e.”

  I chose the seat at the head of the table, closest to Jason and furthest from Agent Phillips. Now that I was sitting down, from this angle I saw that Agent Phillips had a manila folder at least half an inch thick on the table in front of him. He too had a fresh cup of coffee. Everyone was prepared for this gathering except for me with my still wet hair, bare feet and zero caffeine.

  “My son told me quite the story about you Natalie and now that you’ve gotten him involved in your criminal lifestyle, he’s seeking representation for him and for you.”

  “Criminal lifestyle?” His choice of words shocked me as much as a slap to the face would. “Jase, what did you tell him?” I leaned closer to him and my movement forced Jason to finally look at me, but it was fleeting.

  “I’m doing the talking here,” Jason’s dad interjected, maintaining control of the room, and I imagined he was a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom. “Let me start with conspiracy to commit a felony. Both you and Jason were aware of plans for Dominic Grabano and Grant Ross to kill Marco Grabano. Then there’s the matter of you possessing an illegal firearm and harboring a known enforcer for the Los Angeles crime family.” Jonathan Fletcher narrowed his eyes at me. “Jason showed up at my house with this man’s blood on his shirt.”

  With each allegation, I sunk further and further down in the chair. “You’re a threat to my son’s future, Miss Ross and because of this I need to do some damage control. I’m willing to represent you and cut a deal with the FBI, but I’m not doing this for you, do you understand?”

  “And what exactly does this deal entail?” I asked. It was my turn to narrow my eyes.

  “You become a witness and all of the charges against you will be dropped.”

  Rage began to burn in my blood, making my muscles quake and it was all I could do to not chew Jason out. Struggling to keep my voice even, I turned to Jason. “I told you no authorities. I’m not a rat.”