Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2)

by E. J. Fechenda

  “A gun, Nat? That isn’t like you. Do you even know how to use it?”

  I wasn’t about to tell Jason I had already shot and killed a man. “Victor is teaching me. We went to a shooting range today. I need to learn to defend myself.”

  “Yeah, but a freaking gun? This gangster shit isn’t you. Take Tae Kwon Do or something.” Jason reached out to caress my cheek, but stopped mid-way and quickly dropped his arm. I smiled to let him know I appreciated he was respecting the friend zone. “What happens if your brother and Dominic are successful in taking out Marco? What are your plans? Is part of this in preparation for you going back to Philly or will you stay here?”

  “I uh, I don’t know,” I said, sitting down on the edge of Chelsea’s bed. Jason sat down next to me, his thigh flush with mine, our jeans a contrast of dark and faded denim.

  “If I get a vote, I want you to stay.” He leaned against me, lightly bumping his shoulder against mine, but then he grew serious and his mouth turned down in a frown as he stared at his hands. “We need to consider they might not be successful in killing Marco. If that’s the case we have to figure out a way to get you extracted from all of this. What about police protection? “

  “No, absolutely not,” I shut the idea down before he could go any further. “We talked about this before and I will not be a rat.”

  He turned to face me. “Well you need to consider it, Natalie. It might be your only option.”

  “Jase,” I made sure he was looking me in the eyes so he could see how serious I was. “I mean it, no.” I got up and left him sitting on the bed. While I appreciated Jason trying to help, he didn’t understand this world and was wading into waters swimming with sharks. Not just little sand sharks either, but Great Whites.

  ***

  Jason didn’t bring up going to the authorities again and by the time we returned to work two nights later, it was business as usual except when I went up to the bar with drink orders, Jason was scowling. One quick survey revealed Victor at the end facing me. He wiggled his fingers and smirked.

  “Why is he here again?” Jason asked with an angry emphasis on “he”.

  Victor didn’t have to stay at the bar while I worked; he usually escorted me back and forth. “Obviously he takes his protection detail seriously or he likes to be annoying. I’m going with both.”

  Jason chuckled at that as he filled two pint glasses with beer from the tap. “He doesn’t have to be here. I’ve got your back.”

  “Jase, no offense, but these guys are unpredictable and scary. I’m not happy about having Victor following me around, but I do feel safer.”

  “And I want you safe, it’s just…” he paused and glanced over his shoulder at Victor. “He’s not into you, is he?”

  “No. Absolutely not.” After the awkward kiss at Gio’s, Victor had maintained a strictly professional level.

  “Okay, good.” He placed the last of my drink orders on the tray and I leaned across the bar, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” I teased.

  “Back to work you two,” Collin called, giving me a wink and chucking a piece of ice at Jason.

  I laughed and lifted the tray onto my shoulder. As I made my way through the crowd, I felt more than one set of eyes following my retreat.

  I was getting used to Victor’s presence, which was hard to do. He was big, had tattoos and piercings. He was intimidating, except when he was wiggling his fingers at me from across the bar. Did I feel safe with Jason? Yes, to a point, but he wasn’t a killer. Victor was and he was prepared to kill in order to keep me alive. Just his presence alone was a warning to others.

  At the end of the night, the lights came up and Tom, one of Dirty’s two bouncers, locked the main entrance behind the last patron to leave. We closed out, cleaned and spent a few minutes chilling around the bar. Jason and Collin were still restocking so I grabbed a stool nearest to where Jason was working. He handed me a vodka and cranberry, adding a toothpick loaded with three maraschino cherries, which I immediately devoured, savoring the sticky sweetness.

  It was about a half an hour later when we walked out together. Collin and Jason were making surfing plans for that afternoon. I spied Victor leaning against the side of his black Audi roadster. His long legs, clad in dark jeans, stretched out before him. His arms were crossed over his chest; the sleeve of tattoos on both forearms stood out against his black t-shirt and the parking lot light glinted off of his eyebrow piercing when he nodded at me. I walked over to meet him.

  “Hey Princess,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes at his nickname for me, which made him chuckle. “You don’t have to babysit me at work every night, you know. Don’t you have somebody famous to ink?”

  In the distance, a car door slammed and Victor went on full alert, giving the parking lot a cursory survey before focusing his dark eyes back on me. He was being extraordinarily attentive, like Grant and Dominic had concentrated their overprotectiveness and injected it into him.

  “Victor, is something going on that you’re not telling me?”

  “Yes, now get in the car and I’ll fill you in.” He started to tug on my arm, but I stood my ground, refusing to be moved around like a piece on a chess board.

  I shook my arm free from his grip and glared at Victor. He may have been a foot taller than me and easily a hundred pounds heavier, and carrying a gun, but I refused to be bullied.

  Collin had left and Jason hovered over by his BMW, eyes narrowed, watching Victor. “Jase, chill, Victor has an update for me and he’s acting super-protective.”

  “Are you okay?” He asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”

  “Let’s go,” I said, walking back to Victor. He met me at the passenger door, holding it open.

  “Your chariot awaits, Princess.” The inside of Victor’s roadster was like a small, luxury cave with limo grade tint on the windows and the an black interior. Victor slid in and started the engine, which was barely audible. He set his cell phone in a cup holder and put the car in drive. He pulled out onto a deserted street. It was 3:00 am and probably the only time when L.A. streets weren’t jammed with cars.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” I asked.

  ‘There’s been an update.”

  “What’s wrong?” I studied Victor and noticed how tightly he gripped the steering wheel. He chewed on his lip piercing, a habit I learned he did when he was thinking, leading me to believe he was picking out certain things to tell me. “Victor, are you going to answer me? Are Dom and Grant okay?”

  He exhaled slowly and glanced at me, the reflection of dashboard lights illuminating his dark eyes. “They’re fine, but,” he paused and licked his lips. “Marco’s suspicious because we haven’t done anything.”

  “It’s been less than two days. What about giving Gio until after New Year’s?”

  “Yeah, well he upped his reward to 20 grand and that kind of cash might even make some of Bianchi’s boys greedy.”

  “What about you? Are you going to cash in? Here I am, already in your car. What’s stopping you?”

  “I follow orders and those are to keep you safe, which means you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me until Marco is taken out.”

  Chapter 27

  PHILADELPHIA

  DOMINIC

  Grant ended the call and chucked his phone across my living room, yelling “Fuck!” before it cracked against the wall.

  “Jesus Christ, what the fuck is that all about?”

  Grant had just returned from York where he spent Christmas day with his mom. I had the last Eagles game on my DVR, so we were hanging out watching them lose yet again.

  “That was Victor. Marco wants to know why Gio hasn’t done anything about Natalie.”

  “Shit,” I shot up from where I was sitting on the leather sectional and started pacing the room, my footsteps muffled by the carpet “What else did Victor say?”

  “Gio told Marco that he was working on it and w
ould have results after the New Year, but apparently Marco upped the price on Nat’s head to 20 large.”

  “Fuck. Alright, if Marco isn’t interested in waiting, we won’t either. Let’s get everyone here as soon as possible.”

  “I’m on it.” Grant crossed the room to retrieve his phone, which was surprisingly still intact, except for a cracked screen.

  Within two hours Dante, Johnny, Anthony, Miranda and Paulie had arrived. Miranda surprised me by showing up with someone else. Allegra walked in behind her, a knit hat was pulled down low over her forehead and a scarf was wrapped around her face a couple of times in a thick collar.

  “Miranda,” I said, pulling her off to the side. “We agreed nobody else should know.”

  “Trust me Dom, you want Allegra in on this. Call it woman’s intuition.”

  “Fine, but this better be good,” I said, walking into the living room to join everyone else. That’s when I noticed Allegra’s face. She had removed her hat and scarf, which had disguised a bruise the color of an eggplant that covered the upper half of her right cheek, encompassing her eye. Her lower lip was swollen on the right side and had a nasty split.

  “Jesus Christ, who did that to you?” I demanded and she flinched at the question before looking to Miranda.

  “My dad did this,” Miranda answered for Allegra. “He took her to The Speak the other night and when she refused his advances, he beat the shit out of her.”

  Allegra’s dad was an accountant for Marco, but he had been shot and killed during the recent skirmish with Rocco Nucci and his boys. Brittany, who Allegra was friends with, hung herself not too long after. To say the girl was emotionally vulnerable was an understatement. Now it made sense why Miranda brought her along.

  “I want to help,” Allegra said. “Miranda and I talked; I can get close to Marco. Slip something in his drink if you want or let you know where he’s at.”

  “He’ll never suspect a woman,” Miranda chimed in. “He doesn’t give us enough credit to pull something like this off.”

  “I want to be the one who kills him,” I said.

  “Then I can text you when we go out again,” Allegra said.

  “It has to be soon.”

  “New Year’s Eve,” Miranda said, suddenly very animated. “He always drops mom off after midnight and then he goes out, usually to find other company.” She glanced across the coffee table at Paulie, whose hands were clenched so tight the veins on his forearms were raised.

  “She’s right. Every fucking year he does this. Mom knows too and she cries herself to sleep. I hear her sobs through the wall,” he said. I shook my head in disgust; to think I used to respect my uncle.

  “Allegra, you need to be the one he goes out with that night. Can you do that?” I asked.

  “What’s going on? I thought we were waiting until after the holidays?” Dante asked, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

  “Marco is putting pressure on Gio to carry out the hit on Natalie. He’s now offering 20 G’s.”

  “Oh shit. Yeah, we need to make this happen then.”

  I turned my attention back to Allegra. “Can you do this? You don’t have to, especially after what he’s done.”

  “I’ll do it.” Her voice may have been shaky, but she had an air of fierce determination about her, which convinced me.

  We spent the next few minutes hammering out details. Grant, Allegra, Miranda and I were all going to be working at Crimson on New Year’s Eve, the biggest night of the year for the club. After Butter closed, Dante was going to head over to Crimson while Johnny, Paulie and Anthony were going to stay at Marco’s house. The moment Marco dropped Aunt Paulina off they were to let me know. Marco was going to be in the VIP section at Crimson and Allegra was assigned to be the cocktail waitress there. She had all night to work her magic so Marco would choose her for his after-hours entertainment. Considering she had yet to put out for him, it pretty much guaranteed he was going to embrace the challenge and continue pursuing her. Once they settled somewhere, Allegra was going to text me the location. Grant and I would then go in and take care of business.

  ***

  NEW YEAR’S EVE

  My bar was stocked, the counters wiped clean with bleach and the crimson velvet cushions on the bar stools surrounding the bar had all been steam cleaned. The club was ready for the hundreds who were already lined up outside even though the doors weren’t scheduled to open until nine. This was the calm before the storm. Once those doors opened, it was going to be chaos. My mind wasn’t on the tips I’d be raking in or the flesh that was going to be on display, my thoughts were on Marco.

  Leaning against the bar, I watched as Grant spoke to his bouncers about security protocol. After the meeting, he walked over to Miranda, who was just coming out of her office. I knew their minds were on Marco too. Miranda hadn’t shed one tear over the plan to kill her dad and I was impressed with her stoicism, but worried how much she was bottling up. Grant said something to her that made her laugh. She threw her head back, exposing her neck and Grant leaned in for a nuzzle. Giggling, she wrapped her arms around him before Grant raised his head and sought out her mouth with his. I quickly looked away since I’d seen enough intimacy between the two of them to last a lifetime.

  A shout from the front let us know the doors were opening. First a few people trickled in, dressed in gowns and tuxedos, the next group wasn’t dressed as formally. Soon Crimson was at capacity and every bar was slammed. The dance floor was packed with gyrating couples spilling out onto the carpet. I was sweating from the pace and all of the bodies generated a lot of heat. My black t-shirt clung to my back and I had to occasionally wipe my forehead with a towel so I didn’t sweat into anyone’s drink. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Grant gesturing at me. I looked at the direction he indicated and saw the crowd parting, making way for Marco. Aunt Paulina followed right behind him, her signature salon colored auburn hair bobbing through the masses. Our plan was falling into place.

  At midnight, hundreds of red balloons and glittering confetti were unleashed onto the dance floor from where they had been suspended above by giant nets. Couples embraced under a shower of red, bringing in the New Year with a kiss, while other couples took it a step further by having discreet sex in dark corners of the club.

  Just as anticipated, at 12:30, Uncle Marco and Aunt Paulina left. My aunt’s facial expression was one of resigned disappointment. Fifteen minutes later my phone vibrated in my pocket. Paulie’s text read: the eagle has landed. I laughed and deleted the text before slipping the phone back in my pocket and finished making a Tom Collins. Soon after, Marco was back and in the VIP section. Grant walked by my bar and gave me a thumbs-up. Allegra had closed the deal.

  The lights came up and the music stopped right at 2 am. Walking to the bathroom, I waded through the usual detritus; plastic drink straws, broken glass, vomit, used condoms, loose change and even a shirt. That was a new one. When I was returning to clean up my bar, I noticed Marco leaving with Allegra on his arm. Her lip was no longer swollen and her make-up camouflaged the bruise. She had changed into a slinky red sequined dress that barely covered her ass. Oh yeah, she knew what my uncle liked.

  I was just finishing with my bar, having capped all of the liquor bottles, when my phone buzzed again. Allegra’s text was brief: The Speak – upstairs. I went to get Grant and my gun. Both were in Miranda’s office. Fortunately they weren’t getting it on this time as I burst in through the door. Miranda’s cheeks were shiny with fresh tears and Grant held her close.

  “You okay, cuz?” I asked.

  She stepped away and smiled, wiping her cheeks. She took a deep breath. “I’m good. Is it time?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to The Speak.”

  “That seems fitting,” Grant said. It had come full circle. The Speak is where Natalie first found out Grant and I were in the mafia after witnessing Grant kill three men. The Speak is also where Mr. Genovese assaulted her after Marco practically choked her into submission. It was
definitely fitting that Marco was going to die there.

  I grabbed my gun from the safe and secured it in my small of back holster; my leather jacket covered the bulge. Grant’s gun was already in the holster strapped around his chest, making him look more like a cop. He zipped up his black leather jacket, concealing his weapon too. With a final hug for Miranda, he was ready. Grant followed me to my condo where I left my car with valet, grabbing my suppressor out of the glove compartment first before climbing into Grant’s Lexus, the least memorable of our vehicles. A vintage Mustang can attract unwanted attention when you’re committing a felony.

  We parked a block over and added the cans to our guns before walking to The Speak. The silencer made my gun longer and the length was uncomfortable against my backside so I used the loop sewn into my jacket. We approached The Speak, which looked like an abandoned, condemned building from the outside with boarded up windows and peeling paint on the trim, but we knew inside was a fully modern and functioning bar with gambling in the back. I knocked on the door and it opened a crack. The doorman Sam’s face appeared and I went through the motions of telling him the password: Muffins, even though he knew who we were. Once inside, we bypassed the crowded living room that had been converted into a bar and immediately went up the steep flight of stairs to the second floor, the noise from the party below following us. The top step creaked, earning us some attention from Telly, who was standing guard outside one of the doors near the end of the hall.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Telly asked.

  “We’re here to see Marco,” Grant said, pulling his gun out. Telly was slow to react and still reaching for his gun when Grant shot him between the eyes. The back of Telly’s head blew out and blood mixed with brain matter splattered against the eggshell white wall behind him. We didn’t stop as his body slid to the floor. Stepping over his legs, Grant opened the bedroom door and I silently entered the room. There was only one piece of furniture and it was a queen bed. Allegra was lying on her back still wearing black lace underwear and bra. Marco’s hand was down the front of her panties and one of her breasts was exposed, the bra cup pulled to the side, revealing a nipple that glistened in the dim light like it had recently been suckled. Marco was naked and his white belly was pressed against her side, resembling a large parasitic grub. He didn’t hear me come in, but Allegra saw me and relief washed over her features.