CLEAN SLATE
Book Two of The New Mafia Trilogy
by
E.J. Fechenda
Copyright © 2014 E.J. Fechenda
Kindle Edition – published 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover design by: Jessica Loranger
I dedicate this book to dreamers everywhere.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 1
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. “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 heart rate 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 ex-boyfriend Dominic 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 Grant was a hit man for the mob after unwittingly being at the scene of one of his hits, which happened to be a triple murder. That same night I learned my boyfriend, Dominic, was also a Mafioso. Then, I was sexually assaulted by the Don of the most powerful mob families in the country, a member of the Five Families out of New York City, who Grant and Dominic murdered. I knew I needed to get out after I was 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. To avoid losing myself completely, I left the love of my life and my family behind.
I spent many sleepless nights in hotel rooms. Every time a car door shut outside my window I’d jump. Whenever someone paused outside my door, I’d hold my breath and clutch at the knife I kept beneath my pillow. By the time I hit Montana, I relaxed a little bit, cut three inches off of my hair and got bangs, which really made the shape of my face look different. Hopeful that I wasn’t being followed, I stopped checking the rearview mirror 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 had 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 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 wide enough to conceal the healing wound.
“What is that?” she asked at the same time sliding the strap over. The bruising had faded to a faint jaundice yellow, but the 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 d
on’t tell anyone you saw me. Not even your mom.”
“Does this have something to do with why Grant called me a couple of days ago?”
I wasn’t surprised Grant had already called Chelsea and I was glad that she didn’t know I was coming.
“Yes and I promise to tell you everything. There’s a really good reason for the secrecy. Okay?”
Chelsea didn’t say anything, just nodded her head in agreement. I think my statement stunned her into silence. She stared after my car as I backed out and pulled away.
Chapter 2
I followed Chelsea’s rusted out, 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 punched in a code and the gate rumbled open on its track. She gestured for me to follow close behind.
Chelsea and I walked up to her apartment building, which had a beige stucco exterior. A water fountain filled up the center of a small 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 recliner 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 and 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.” I didn’t remind her that the condo where Dominic and I lived had those too, but that was an exception since most places didn’t. 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 thirsty.
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, “Okay, spill.”
Her gaze was unwavering, so 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?”
“The Speak, right?”
“Yes. Dominic took me there one night after work and that same night, Grant was there and he killed three men.”
Chelsea’s blue eyes widened and her mouth hung slack.
“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. But it gets worse.” I took a sip of water, wishing it was something stronger. “Dominic’s Uncle Marco is the boss of the mob and he’s an awful man.”
Chelsea watched me place the glass back on the coffee table, my hand shaking so bad, water spilled over the sides.
I told her how Marco forced me into the room with Mr. Genovese, the head of the Five Families and how he had assaulted me.
“I got off easy though,” I continued. Chelsea reached for my hand and held it tight as I told her about my coworker, Brittany, who was brutally raped by Genovese’s men. I told her about the pressure and the fear, but also 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.”
“And that’s why Grant called me.”
“Yeah, but obviously you didn’t know where I was either. I still don’t know where I’m going to go. Unless…” I looked up at Chelsea and she knew me well enough that I didn’t have to finish asking.
“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.
Chapter 3
Exhaustion set in after I revealed the truth to Chelsea. I picked at the pasta she had made for dinner, but was too tired to eat. We went downstairs and retrieved my bags out of the car. Minutes later I was curled up on my old familiar friend, the futon. Everything had finally caught up to me and I fell into a coma-like sleep.
The front door clicked shut and woke me up. I thought Chelsea had left for work and was surprised to learn that she was just getting home.
“Did I sleep all day?” I asked.
She nodded. “You look better though. Not so hollow.”
I felt almost normal; more rested than I’d been in weeks and no nightmares had haunted my dreams. I yawned and stretched. Chelsea grinned and threw something shiny at me. I flinched and dodged to the side. The object landed next to me on the blanket with a jingle. It was a set of keys.
“The big one is for the gym and the pool gate. The small one is for the front door.”
“Thanks. Oh and Chels, I can help pay for things. I have plenty of cash on me.”
“Cool. L.A. is not a cheap place to live.” She pulled a bottle of white wine out of the refrigerator. “Do you want a drink?”
“No. I need to get my head together.” Chelsea shrugged and went to put the bottle away. “You still can, I don’t mind. I just can’t right now.”
She hesitated and then brought the wine, a corkscrew and glass with her and plopped down on the futon.
“Are you sure?” One of her eyebrows was raised.
“Yes I’m sure,” I encouraged her. “I’ve been dumping a lot of shit into my system, trying to cope with everything. This is my chance to start over.”
“Nat, I am so sorry you had to deal with all of this alone. Now I know why you became so evasive and distant.”
“I hated that night, when we had the big argument and I moved out. I cried on Dominic’s shoulder for days afterwards.”
“This whole time I thought you dumped me for a guy.”
“I would never dump you for a guy.”
“Yeah, this whole mafia story is a pretty good reason. I don’t feel so put out now!” Chelsea took a long sip. I watched her and licked my lips. My body craved a drink, longed for th
e soothing blanket to envelope my whole being. I didn’t give in. I had been hiding behind substances for too long and needed to face my demons head on.
The next morning I made sure I was awake before Chelsea left for work. She didn’t have to be in until mid-morning and was nice to sit and have a cup of coffee with her.
“What are your plans for today?”Chelsea asked.
“I don’t know. I was thinking about going for a run. My legs could use the stretch.”
“Good. I worry about you being holed up in this apartment all day.”
“Yes, Mom,” I said and rolled my eyes. Chelsea was always the worrier.
“I’m off tomorrow and we can go do something. Plus, I’m meeting my boyfriend for dinner. Wanna come?”
“You have a boyfriend?”
“I do.” I sensed a tone of caution in her voice. “I’m sorry, I thought I told you.”
“No, I didn’t know. That’s cool. I’d like to meet him, but don’t want to impose on your date.”
“Nat, don’t be ridiculous! Derek would love to meet you.”
Derek, his name was Derek. Derek made me think of Dominic. My heart rate accelerated and my palms felt slick with sweat. The coffee churned in my empty stomach.
“Nat, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “I think I just need to eat something.” I made a weak attempt at smiling.
“Mmmhmmm,” the corners of her mouth turned up to form a knowing smile.
“What?”
“You miss him.” It was a statement, not a question. Leave it to Chelsea to figure it out. I did miss Dominic. My heart ached whenever I thought of him. Leaving him took all the strength I possessed, but it had to be done.
“I still love him and think about him every day.”
“His family does take dysfunctional to a whole new level. He wouldn’t leave to be with you?”
“No.” Tears welled up and spilled over my cheeks. “I would have stayed, but the shooting, knowing that he could be killed at any time; that on top of everything else. It was too much.”
Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) Page 1