The Beautiful People (The New Mafia Trilogy)

by Fechenda, E. J.

  After making sure Brittany was all set I went out to see Dominic. He was off the phone and staring out the window. He must have heard my movements and turned to look at me. He still looked angry, but seemed to have calmed down considerably.

  “Who were you talking to?” I asked.

  “Grant. He wanted to know how you’re doing.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That you seem to be handling everything pretty well…on the outside.”

  “But not on the inside.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  “How are you doing, Nat?” he asked softly.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Of course, I love you and want to know what I can do, what I need to do!” He walked over, pulling me gently against his body. My head rested on his chest and I inhaled the familiar smell; a little woodsy from his cologne and spice from his deodorant.

  “You need to talk about it. You shouldn’t keep it bottled up inside,” he prodded. I thought about what I was going to say first before responding.

  “I still feel his hands on me and taste him in my mouth. It’s awful and won’t go away! And I still feel your uncle’s hand around my throat. It’s hard to breathe. I don’t know whether to cry or to puke! All I really want to do is sleep; hoping maybe I’ll wake up and it would have just been a bad dream.” Dominic hugged me tighter the more I revealed. “Despite all that I consider myself lucky…it could have been so much worse.” Despite my efforts to stay strong I started to sob again, soaking the front of Dominic’s t-shirt. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “I will kill him.” Dominic announced. The finality in his voice caused me to look up at him.

  “Dom, as much as I want him to suffer an excruciating death, it’s suicide! What would happen to you if you attempted to kill him? You’d be dead. I can’t deal with that.”

  “He can’t, they can’t be allowed to get away with what they did to you and to Brit.” As much as I wanted to agree with him and have him avenge me, it would be stupid to allow it. Dominic would be dead before he left New York City.

  “Didn’t you tell me that Mr. Genovese is the most powerful out of the five families?” I asked him.

  “Yeah,” he answered unwillingly.

  “Do you really think that you can get away with it?”

  “Yes, Grant and I were talking-“

  “What!” I cut him off. “Not Grant too! You guys are crazy. Just stop thinking about it, it’s not an option.” I pushed myself out of his embrace and glared up at him.

  “But, Nat –“

  “No. I don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t want to know.” I crossed my arms over my chest and turned away.

  Dom moved up behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder. His stubble tickled against my skin. “You’re right. I won’t talk about it anymore,” he whispered in my ear.

  “Thank you.” He gave in way too easily. I had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be the end of his crazy scheme.

  Chapter 27

  The week passed quickly, despite becoming a recluse in the condo. Brittany stayed with me and we passed the time up at the rooftop pool or sitting on the deck. We would get up around noon and mix margaritas or green apple martinis and the lounging would begin. An hour into our day we would be relatively numb. Our bruises were fading to yellow and Brittany’s vision was no longer impaired, but our psyches had yet to heal. Dom would leave us alone and was busy on some side project that the Grabanos were working on. I had no desire to know the particulars about the project.

  Brittany and I had gone from foes to friends. Our shared experience forced the friendship upon us. When Dom left us alone, we talked about that night. Brittany didn’t know I witnessed part of her attack. She recalled hearing a struggle from across the hall, like a body being slammed against the wall. I explained that was me getting thrown into a door.

  Saturday afternoon, a week after the horrific night, Brittany and I sat on the deck, with our martinis in hand. We both sat in silence, deep in our own thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Brittany’s hand tremble. She lifted her glass to her lips and drained it empty.

  “I need another drink,” she declared and stood up. “You?” she asked me. I drained my glass and followed her into the kitchen. We had already polished off the bottle of green apple martini mix, so we moved onto straight vodka. Dominic came home from the gym to get ready for work and found us close to passing out on the sectional. Brittany’s glass was knocked over on the coffee table, an ice cube slowly melting into a pool on the finished wood.

  He gave me a disappointed look and walked into the bedroom. I probably should have followed, but I was incapable of getting up off the sofa.

  “Was that Dom?” Brittany slurred.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Do you think he has any coke?”

  “Probably not,” I answered. Dominic was like me and preferred smoking a joint over snorting lines.

  “God, I could really go for something stronger,” she slurred, almost unintelligible.

  My eyes were drifting closed when Dom came out into the living room. He had changed into his work clothes and the smell of his body wash trailed out behind him.

  “Dom, when you come home, can you bring some coke?” Brittany asked in a pleading voice.

  He eyed her warily, “I’ll see what I can do.” His answer was noncommittal. “You two are a sight.” he stated and looked at me.

  I couldn’t meet his eyes. We must have seemed pretty pathetic to him; hiding away all week and drinking like it was our job.

  “Did you eat anything today?” he asked.

  “No, I haven’t been hungry.” Dom lowered his head in frustration. I hadn’t eaten more than a handful of crackers all week. My usual ravenous appetite still hadn’t returned. Even though it had only been a few days I could tell that I lost weight. My face looked gaunt and my clothes fit looser. I couldn’t explain to Dom that my mouth still tasted like ashtray and only the alcohol was palatable. He would just get pissed off and start talking crazy again.

  Brittany suddenly stood up and took off in a dash towards the bathroom. Seconds later we could hear her hurling in the toilet.

  “Nice,” Dom remarked before he turned his attention back to me. “Will you try to eat something? Please? I’m really worried about you.” His concern was visible.

  “I’ll try,” I promised.

  He bent over and kissed my forehead. “I’ll be home later than usual. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Ok.” I slouched back against the sofa. “Dom?” He looked back at me. “Love you.”

  He smiled at me, “I love you too.” As he walked away I noticed his gun was tucked in the back of his pants. Before I could say anything I passed out.

  Chapter 28

  A phone was ringing in the background. As I surfaced to consciousness the ringing grew louder and more insistent. I opened my eyes and was blinded by the sunlight. I moaned and rolled over towards the sound. My head was pounding and I was so thirsty. The phone stopped and I embraced the silence. Almost as soon as it had stopped, it started again. The ringing was coming from the bathroom. I dragged myself out of bed to grab my cell phone off of the vanity.

  “Hello?” My voice was scratchy.

  “Nat, it’s Miranda. Is Dom there?” I detected distress in her tone. I walked back out into the bedroom to get Dom and saw that the bed was empty. His side of the bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in at all last night.

  “Hold on, let me check.” After a survey of the condo, I found Brittany passed out on the floor of the second bathroom, but Dom wasn’t anywhere to be found. “No. He’s not here.”

  “Shit. Have you heard from him or Grant?” The hysteria in her voice was increasing.

  “No. Why? What’s going on Miranda?” I demanded. She was freaking me out.

  “Grant’s car is still outside Crimson and he didn’t come home last night.”

  “It doesn’t look like Dom did
either. Were they going somewhere after work?”

  “They didn’t work last night.”

  “But, Dominic was going to work, that’s the last time I saw him.” Then I remembered the gun in his pants. That wasn’t part of his uniform.

  “What did they do last night? Do you know?” Miranda was silent on the other end. “Miranda, are you still there?”

  “Yes. You’re not going to like this,” she paused. “They went to New York City last night.” My heart stopped.

  “Oh no,” I whispered. My legs gave out and I collapsed on the floor. I pictured Dominic and Grant lying in pools of blood. Their eyes open, vacant and beginning to cloud over. “Why didn’t you stop them!”

  “They wouldn’t listen to me and were hell bent on evening the score.”

  “And they’re not answering their cell phones are they?” I asked.

  “No. I’ve tried repeatedly.”

  “Who else was in on it?”

  “Just them. They didn’t want to involve anyone else.”

  “So, your dad doesn’t know or Dom’s dad?”

  “I don’t think so, they would have prevented something like this. A hit on Mr. Genovese is very serious.”

  “What were they thinking?”

  “I’m going to make some more calls. Will you call me if you hear from them?”

  “Of course, you do the same.” I hung up the phone and stayed on the floor. I called Dom’s cell and it went straight to voicemail. “Please call me as soon as you get this.” Next I tried Grant and got his voicemail. I left the same message. My nerves were shot and I was thirsty. I heaved myself up off the floor and marched into the kitchen. The bottle of vodka was still on the counter. I poured myself a glass and took some big gulps. It didn’t take long for the warmth to settle in and relax my nerves. The pounding in my head began to ease off. I poured another glass and went to go check on Brittany.

  She was curled around the toilet, her head propped up on a towel.

  “Brit, wake up.” I nudged her leg with my bare foot. She groaned and mumbled something. “Brit, come on.” I urged, nudging her again. She shook her leg, mumbling incoherently, but still didn’t wake up. She looked cold lying on the tile floor in shorts and a tank top. The air conditioning vent was directly overhead and blasting arctic air down on her. I grabbed the other towel off of the rack and draped it over her.

  Hours passed. Brittany slept and my phone never rang. Even though I had consumed two glasses of vodka, it hadn’t eased any of the edginess. I rolled a joint and smoked it. This helped a little. My eyelids got heavy and started to close. The ringing of my cell phone pierced the silence of the condo and jerked me awake. I recognized Grant’s number.

  “Grant? Where are you? Are you alright? Is Dom with you? What the hell were you thinking?” I fired off questions at him.

  “Nat, slow down. We’re fine.” Relief washed over me and tears filled my eyes.

  “Where are you?”

  “At Crimson. I needed to pick up my car.”

  “Where’s Dom?”

  “He is talking to his dad. Apparently Miranda was ready to call in the National Guard. Rico isn’t too pleased with his son right now.”

  “Did you do what I think you were going to do?”

  “Yes.”

  I steadied myself with another gulp of vodka.

  “I’m going to go pick up Miranda and we’ll be over.” Grant hung up the phone. The conversation must have broken through Brittany’s slumber because she wandered into the living room.

  “Who was that?” she asked through a yawn.

  “Grant. He, Dom and Miranda are coming over.” I answered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Grant and Dominic went to NYC last night to avenge our assaults.” Her eyes grew huge with shock and disbelief.

  “They did? Wow!” She plopped down on the sofa next to me and grabbed my glass. After she took a generous sip she continued. “I wish I could have seen it. In fact, I would have liked to have killed those pricks myself.” From the intense look on her face, I knew she meant it.

  “Yeah, they deserved it, but it was a reckless move.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Because those deaths are going to be avenged and who do you think the targets are going to be?”

  “Will they know who did it? I mean it is the mafia, hits happen all the time.”

  “I don’t think it will take long for them to piece together that these were the same men who came to Philly last weekend.”

  “Eh, you worry too much Nat. I grew up around this shit and unless Dom and Grant were seen taking them out, or somebody rats them out, they should be fine.” She attempted to convince me, but didn’t sound too convinced herself. We passed the glass of vodka between us and waited for everyone to arrive.

  They took a while and we had moved on to making screwdrivers in the kitchen when they walked in the door. Brittany raised her glass in a toast. “Here’s to taking care of business!” I remained silent and my glass stayed on the counter. Miranda didn’t look jovial either. Relieved that everyone had returned safely? Yes. Happy? No.

  Dominic kept avoiding my gaze and stayed on the other side of the island. He and Grant were both on edge. Miranda and I remained silent. Brittany chattered on like the hostess at a party. She poured screwdrivers for everyone, but the drinks remained untouched. I gulped mine down and moved on to one of the unclaimed glasses. Dominic’s cell vibrated on the countertop and he snatched it up and answered with his back to us. He glanced at Grant to get his attention.

  “What channel? I’ll turn it on.” He snapped his phone shut and grabbed the television remote. He scrolled through the channels and ended on CNN Headline News. The screen filled up with the image of a crime scene. Police tape stretched across a sidewalk outside of a brownstone building. Uniformed and plain clothes police officers milled about the scene. I was caught up in the images and not paying attention to the reporter until I heard the name Luigi Genovese. That caught my attention.

  “…The murder rate in New York City rose dramatically last night after a brutal slaying that resulted in the death of four victims. One of those victims is Luigi Genovese, alleged boss of the Genovese mob family, rumored to be the most powerful crime family in the country. The names of the other victims haven’t been released, but they are believed to be members of NYC’s criminal underworld and associates of Genovese. Witnesses reported hearing a series of gunshots and a dark sedan fleeing the scene. Federal authorities have been busy this summer with mob violence escalating in Philadelphia. They are investigating to see if this recent incident is related.”

  Miranda and I exchanged nervous glances when Philadelphia was mentioned.

  “Damn it!” Grant burst. “That made the news quickly.”

  “Yeah it did,” Dominic agreed. “The connection to Philly is a little unnerving.”

  I went back to refill my glass. Miranda’s phone rang and I could hear the angry voice on the other end clear across the room.

  “Yes. He’s right here. Hold on.” She handed the phone to Dominic. “It’s my dad. He wants to talk to you.”

  Dominic took the phone and walked away from the group. I followed his movements with my eyes. I saw him tense up when Marco lit into him.

  “But…wait…but…” he couldn’t get a word in. “Fine. I understand. Thanks.” He hung up and handed the phone back to Miranda.

  “What did he say?” Grant asked.

  “That we were stupid and impulsive and crossed the line. He said he should probably turn us over to the families. But, he knows why we did it, doesn’t understand it, but we’re family and he’ll back us up. Whatever happens,” he ended ominously.

  “Do the families suspect us?” Grant pried.

  “Uncle Marco didn’t know. Apparently there is total chaos in New York right now. The consigliore to Genovese is trying to establish some order. He told us to keep a low profile and he’ll let us know if he hears anything.”
>
  “He’s right you know. That was stupid and impulsive.” I never thought I would agree with Uncle Marco.

  “Nat, there was no way in hell I was going to let that asshole get away with it.” Grant responded, his nostrils flaring.

  “What do you think is going to happen when they figure out whose responsible?”

  “Yeah, this vendetta isn’t going to go away,” Miranda chimed in.

  “I defended your honor and I’m glad I did it,” Dominic said to me. This whole week his face bore a permanent pained expression. That expression was gone and replaced with satisfaction.

  Screaming erupted from the couch and we all jumped. We had forgotten that Brittany was even in the room with us. Sometime during the news broadcast she had passed out. Now she tossed in her sleep, kicking and screaming. I had a feeling I knew what her nightmares were about.

  Miranda’s defensive stance softened as she watched Brittany writhe on the couch.

  “Well, what’s done is done. They deserved it,” spoken like a true Mafia princess. Miranda reached for Grant’s hand. Just like that he was forgiven and was the hero again.

  Dom looked to me for his forgiveness. That was going to be harder to come by. Not only did he go against my wishes and avenge my assault, but he took a human life. Was the crime I had endured worth a human life? Now, all of our lives could be at risk. I shook my head and looked away from his gaze. I heard him storm off and the sliding glass door to the deck slide open and shut.

  “I’ll go talk to him,” Grant offered. Miranda walked up to me as I drank more screwdriver.

  “Natalie, I know you’re upset, but can you ease up on Dom?”

  “Now you’re on their side? A minute ago you were just as pissed.”

  “I was upset, true. They could have been killed…but they weren’t. They delivered justice, Grabano style…for what they did to you and Brit.”

  It was hard to think straight; the vodka was clouding my brain. Maybe Miranda was right. I should have known that Dom and Grant would do this. They were more alike than they knew. I couldn’t help but worry that they too would have to pay for their crimes. Secretly, deep down inside, I was glad Mr. Genovese was dead. Now maybe his smell which still clung to my skin would begin to fade.