Wrath: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Deadly Sin Series Book 1)

by Penelope Marshall

  I made it down the 5 freeway to the Plaza Boulevard off-ramp. I wanted to see my parents, since I hadn't seen them in years. As I waited for the cars to pass so I could merge onto the street, I looked down at my dress, realizing this might not be the best outfit for them to see me in after so many years, but I was sure they wouldn't care.

  Pulling on the hem of my dress, I tried to stretch it out as far as I could, in the hopes that it would reach my knees. Who was I kidding? There wasn't enough material to make it half way down my thigh, let alone my knees.

  I tapped on the steering wheel, impatiently waiting for the last car to pass.

  "Finally!"

  I pressed on the gas and sped off down Plaza, toward Highland Avenue, the main drag in National City. If it had been a Sunday night, the whole street would be littered with old school cars, low riders, and on-lookers partying on the sidewalk. I used to love going there with my father to catch glimpses of cars he used to wish for as a teenager. It was something special that we shared.

  I made it past Highland, and on to B Avenue, where the familiar blue and beige French Quarter apartments had stood for as long as I could remember. Sliding into a parking spot, I wondered how my parents would receive me after so many years.

  Should I tell them what happened—where I've been?

  I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, heading for the metal security gate, wondering if I even remembered the code to get in. Seeing the keypad, the numbers came back to me in a flash.

  2124#

  The black gate buzzed, and the lock clicked open, kind of reminding me how prison cell doors were opened. I walked through the hallway which led to the main common area, shared by all the units. Passing by the old pool, which had been filled up with concrete by the owner one summer, I heard the ghostly sounds of me and my cousins swimming during summer break, the smell of barbecue wafting over the entire complex.

  Damn, I missed that!

  Before I realized it, I was standing in front of my parent's apartment…my old apartment. I rang the bell and waited. There was a shuffling of feet nearing the door, and the sudden turn of the knob. The door creaked open to an old woman holding her cat.

  "Yes?" she asked.

  I looked around her, and tried to look over her, hoping to catch a glimpse of my parents. None of their furniture was there…at least any of the furniture I remembered.

  "Can I help you?" she asked again.

  My gaze shifted back to her. "I'm sorry. I'm being rude. I'm looking for Mr. and Mrs. Martinez."

  She shook her head. "Shame what happened to them."

  "Shame?"

  "You're asking about Liz and Jerry?"

  "Yes. My parents."

  Shocked, she dropped the cat, covering her mouth with both her hands.

  "Your parents?"

  She motioned me to come in. I shook my head, knowing that once I walked in, I wasn't going to like what I heard.

  "I'll stay out here."

  "This is not something you want to hear while you're standing up, mìja."

  I stepped inside of the familiar apartment, and made my way to the couch directly in front of the door.

  She sat next to me. "They were murdered here."

  I bolted out of my seat. "What?" I yelled.

  She looked up at me. "They think it was a mob hit, the way they were shot. On their knees…like animals."

  Tears welled up in my eyes as she continued to describe the horrid event.

  "I was living next door at the time, and I'm the one that called the cops when I heard the gun shots."

  "Why are you living in their apartment now?"

  "The manager couldn't rent it out because of the murder, so he offered it to me for half the rent and I couldn't turn it down."

  I shook my head. "So you get a discount because my parents died here?"

  She rested her wrinkled hand on my shoulder. "I didn't say it was right, mija."

  I shrugged her off. "No, it's not right."

  "I can't possibly understand how you must feel, but life goes on for the rest of us. I do know that your parents loved you, and they never stopped searching for you. Matter of fact…" her words trailed as she stood from the couch and rifled through a drawer in the kitchen.

  I watched her closely, wondering what she could be looking for.

  "Here it is," she said, holding a piece of paper as she walked back to the couch.

  "What is it?" I asked, taking the white eight-by-eleven sized sheet of paper with a huge black and white picture of a younger me printed across it.

  Across the top, the word 'MISSING' was printed in bold red ink.

  "Your parents plastered these all over the neighborhood for years. They never gave up. They loved you, mijita."

  My eyes welled up with even more tears. I didn't know one could feel so much sadness and loss in a single moment. This must've been how my parents felt all that time I was missing, and even though I didn't need to hear every sordid detail, I sat down to listen. If they had to go through it, then I should have to as well. In the back of my mind, I knew it was Angelo who killed them. After all, he did all of Rez's dirty work.

  That piece of shit!

  Angry, I shot up from the couch, and announced, "He killed my parents!"

  "Who did?" the woman asked, grabbing for my wrist.

  I backed away. "Nothing! Forget I was even here; it might save your life," I said, running out the door, leaving the flyer on the couch.

  "Wait!" she yelled.

  Wait for what?

  There was no one here for me. That asshole had taken away everything I'd ever cared about—my self-respect—my parents. There was nothing left for me.

  Making my way out of the apartment complex and back to the car, I headed toward the freeway, wiping the streaming tears from my eyes as I swerved in and out of traffic.

  I didn't know where I was going; I just knew I needed to get as far away from the city as I could. Maybe I'd take the drive to Arizona. I had an aunt there who always treated me like a daughter and, right now, I really needed a mother figure in my life.

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