The Beautiful People (The New Mafia Trilogy)

by Fechenda, E. J.

  Dearest Dominic,

  You’re probably wondering where I am and why I am not here to welcome you home. I am so sorry, but I knew that if I waited for you, I would never leave. I haven’t been able to adjust to this life, your life, and when I shot that man, that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. I love with you all of my being, but I need to love myself more. Between being attacked, your uncle’s craziness and the murder…I can’t take another day. Please let your Uncle Marco know that I am not going to rat him out. I would only be implicating you, Grant, and now myself. Your life is here, your family is here and this life is for you - it’s all you’ve ever known. I really tried to make it work. If I stay my life would be full of regret and I would probably resent you one day.

  I am going away to start over. As I told Grant in his letter, please don’t try to find me. Just let me go.

  All my love,

  Natalie

  Tears were oozing out of my eyes and it was hard to see the words I had written. I had to move away so the ink wouldn’t smear. Several drops were already wrinkling the paper. I crawled onto the bed and curled up into a ball. The tears fell until my body wasn’t capable of producing anymore. Never had I felt more drained, completely and utterly drained.

  ***

  The alarm went off and my eyes sprung open. The day had arrived. I quickly showered, pleased to see that the massive bruise around my healing wound had faded to a mottled greenish yellow. It only took two trips to pack up my car. I did a final sweep of the condo and placed the letters for Grant and Dominic on the kitchen counter. I would mail my mom’s letter on the way out of town. I bid a silent farewell to the home Dominic and I shared then walked out the door.

  The End

  Read on for a sneak peak of

  CLEAN SLATE

  Book Two of The New Mafia Trilogy

  Coming soon!

  CLEAN SLATE

  Chapter One

  LOS ANGELES

  I sat in my car just outside the entrance to the Warner Brothers studio lot. The security guard had his back to me as he attempted to page my former best friend. He hung up the phone and glared at me through the small window of his “office”, which was smaller than a toll booth. He had been working on a crossword puzzle when I pulled up and seemed annoyed that he actually had to do his job. The phone trilled and he picked it up mid-ring.

  “Security,” he paused. “Yes, there’s a Natalie Ross here to see you?” He pivoted in his chair so his back was to me again. “Yes, that’s right Natalie Ross. I checked her ID – it’s a Pennsylvania license.” There was another pause and I waited, holding my breath until he said, “I’ll send her in.”

  Well at least she was willing to see me. My heartbeat kicked up a notch as I pulled through the gate. With the convertible top down and sunglasses on, I already felt like I fit into Southern California. I just needed to work on my tan. My skin was so white it created a glare. The guard had handed me a visitors badge and a map of the studio grounds. He’d circled where Chelsea’s office was and drew a line indicating the best route, it looked like a maze.

  I had just arrived in Los Angeles after driving cross country in record time. The long drive from Philadelphia had been an interesting one. For the first half of the trip I had developed a nervous habit of looking in the rearview mirror every two minutes. I kept expecting to see my brother Grant, my boyfriend Dominic (who I had just left) or other members of the Philly mob behind me in hot pursuit.

  A string of violent events precipitated my journey west. First, I had discovered my brother was a hit man for the mob after unwittingly being at the scene of one of his triple murders. That same night I learned my boyfriend was also a Mafioso. Then, I was sexually assaulted by the Don of the most powerful mob families in the country, who my brother and boyfriend murdered in cold blood, triggering (no pun intended) a violent war. Finally, I had been shot in a drive by, which almost killed Dominic and resulted in me lodging a bullet in the forehead of a member of the New York mafia. Despite threats that my brother and I would be killed if I left, I ran away. I didn’t want to be a mafia princess anymore. To avoid losing myself completely, I left the love of my life and my family behind. By the time I hit Montana, I realized I wasn’t being followed and concentrated on the journey ahead.

  Now I was about ready to beg my best friend for forgiveness and I prayed that she would throw me a much needed lifeline. She hadn’t been expecting me and we hadn’t spoken to each other in over nine months. Not since the night we had a huge argument over Dominic and I moved out of the apartment we had shared. She claimed I was forgetting who I was and who my friends were. I couldn’t tell her the truth - that I had already sworn myself to the mafia in order to save my brother’s life, and my own. But, she deserved the truth now.

  I parked in a spot marked with a visitors sign and turned the car off. I grabbed the map off of the dash and looked around. A giant warehouse the size of an airplane hangar loomed in front of me. Doors lined the exterior wall every ten feet or so. I chewed on my bottom lip as I tried to figure out which door to enter. Turns out I didn’t have to figure it out as Chelsea emerged from one. She squinted and raised her hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun. I stuck my arm up and waved, noticing a brief hesitation before she started walking towards me.

  My stomach was in knots as I stepped out of the car to meet her. She was thinner than I remembered. Her round, rosy cheeks more defined. Her hair was longer too and hung in blonde waves past her shoulders.

  Chelsea stopped a few feet away and I felt her eyes surveying me. She would be quick to notice the dark circles under my eyes, more pronounced by the swollen bags that sleepless nights and crying jags created. She wouldn’t miss that I too had lost weight. Although where Chelsea’s weight loss left her looking leaner and healthy, I was gaunt.

  “Jesus. You look like hell!”

  “Yeah…well, I feel like I’ve just come from there,” I responded.

  “What are you doing here?” Her stance hadn’t softened. This was going to be harder than I thought. My hopes of her running out and pulling me into one of her bone crushing hugs quickly dissipated.

  “I’m sorry to bother you at work, but this was the only address I had. Your mom gave me one of your business cards.”

  “Are you moving here?” Chelsea looked behind me at the numerous bags in the backseat. “Did you and Dominic break up?”

  “Can we talk after you get out of work? I’ll tell you everything…and it will explain a lot.”

  “Um, sure, I guess so.”

  We made arrangements for me to meet at six o’clock and I would follow her back to her apartment. I turned to get in my car.

  “Nat?”

  I turned back to face her.

  “Are you okay?” Chelsea’s expression had softened.

  “I don’t know.” Unconsciously I shrugged my shoulders and winced as the reawakening nerve endings screamed. Chelsea’s eyes moved to my right shoulder. I was wearing a white tank top and the strap wasn’t thick enough to conceal the healing wound.

  “What is that?” She asked at the same time sliding my strap over. The bruising had faded to a faint jaundice yellow, but the skin and scar tissue surrounding my injury was still red and raw.

  “I was shot.”

  She jerked her hand back with a gasp. “What?”

  “This is part of what I want to talk you about later and please don’t tell anyone you saw me. Not even your mom”

  Chelsea didn’t say anything and just nodded her head in agreement. I think my statement stunned her into silence. She stared after my car after I backed out and pulled away.

  Chapter 2

  I followed Chelsea’s hand-me-down Volvo wagon down a palm tree lined street. She pulled into the drive of a huge apartment complex. We wove through visitor parking, past the leasing office and up to a gate. She held her card out and the gate rumbled open on its track. She gestured for me to follow close behind.

  Che
lsea and I walked up to her apartment building, which had a stucco exterior, like most of the homes and apartment buildings I had passed. A water fountain filled up the center of a flagstone courtyard.

  “My apartment is small, but it’s affordable,” Chelsea commented as she unlocked the door.

  Her one bedroom was decorated like the apartment we had shared in Philadelphia. The same futon, coffee table and entertainment center furnished the living room. A Pappazan chair appeared to be the only new piece of furniture. I was surprised to see that Chelsea had held onto a couple of my paintings and these hung on the walls. Maybe she didn’t despise me after all, I thought to myself. I took my flip flops off before stepping onto the white carpet to sit down on the futon.

  “Your place is really cute.”

  “Thanks. The best part about this complex is that it has a pool and a gym. A pool, isn’t that awesome?”

  “That is cool.” L.A. was definitely a different world from Philly. I just hoped it was far enough away.

  “Do you want something to drink?” Chelsea asked from the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder to see Chelsea framed by the breakfast bar. She didn’t seem as defensive as she was earlier this afternoon. Her curiosity must be killing her right now. I chuckled remembering how she would interrogate me after every date with Dominic.

  “I’ll just have some water.” Since arriving in the more arid climate I was constantly parched.

  Chelsea sauntered in to the living room and set the glasses on the coffee table. She sat down cross legged on the futon, looked directly at me and said one word.

  “Spill.”

  We stared at each other and Chelsea’s gaze was unwavering. I took a deep breath and began.

  “Dominic and Grant are part of the Philly mob.”

  “What?” She shrieked. “Are you fucking with me?”

  “I wish I was,” I paused. “You know that after hours place I told you about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dominic took me there one night after work and it happened to be the same night that Grant whacked three men…at the same place.”

  Chelsea’s blue eyes widened with astonishment.

  “It was awful! There was blood everywhere and…” I broke off with a shudder. “That night I was sworn to secrecy in order to protect Grant and myself.”

  “You haven’t told anyone this?”

  “No and it gets worse.” I told her about my assault and about my coworker, Brittany, being brutally raped. I told her about the pressure and the fear. But also I told her how powerful it felt to be part of the mafia.

  “Two weeks ago someone tried to take Dominic out. We were both shot.” Chelsea’s eyes shifted to my shoulder. “I shot one of the men, who was firing rounds into Dominic’s Mustang, and killed him.”

  “You killed someone?” She stared at me in disbelief. Ashamed, I lowered my head and nodded in confirmation.

  “I had to. Otherwise I’d probably be dead right now.”

  “Whoa!” Chelsea sat back and analyzed me in silence. I plucked at a loose thread on the dark green futon cover. “So you ran away to my place, just like you did when you were nine.”

  I laughed, having forgotten that time when my mom and I had a horrible fight. I packed my dolls, my piggy bank and some candy into my backpack then ran away to Chelsea’s house. Of course her mom called my mom and I spent the night before going home the next morning. “I guess so. I hated losing you. I hated not being able to tell you what was going on. You have no idea how surreal it’s been.”

  “What are you going to do now? Are you going to get arrested?”

  “I honestly don’t know! I’m more worried about the mafia than the police. They could still come after me so I need to keep a low profile for a while. Nobody knows where I am.” I looked up at Chelsea knowing she could probably already see the question on my face.

  “Yes, you can stay here. You’re much too interesting to not have around,” she teased.

  I smiled and breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you,” Chelsea pulled me into a hug that made my shoulder ache, but I didn’t pull away. Even though I was in California and in this apartment for the first time, I felt like I was home.

  About the Author

  E.J. Fechenda has lived in Philadelphia, Phoenix and now calls Portland, Maine home where she is a wife, stepmom, and pet parent all while working full time. Crazy is how she likes it.

  E.J. has a degree in Journalism from Temple University and her short stories have been published in Suspense Magazine, the 2010 and 2011 Aspiring Writers Anthologies, and in the Indies Unlimited 2012 Flash Fiction Anthology. In addition to writing The New Mafia Trilogy, she is working on The Ghosts Stories Trilogy. E.J. is a member of the Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance and co-founder of the fiction reading series, “Lit: Readings & Libations”, which is held quarterly in Portland.

  E.J. can be found on the internet here:

  Twitter @ebusjaneus (https://twitter.com/ebusjaneus)

  Tumblr: http://ejfechenda.tumblr.com/