Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) (14 page)

           
“That is so reassuring,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
“Besides, who are you protecting me from if you guys aren’t going to carry out
the hit in your own territory?”

           
“It’s an open contract. Someone from Chicago or Miami
could find out you’re here and decide to come collect. Or someone else from
Philly who is seeking favor from Marco.”

           
“What are the odds of that happening?”

           
“I’d say there’s a 50/50 chance. It’s happened before.
The Chicago family has been known to send people overseas to take care of
snitches on the run in Europe. You’re part of a business deal and Gio wants to
ensure nothing happens to you since your life is the motivating factor for
Dominic and Grant in carrying out their end of the deal.”

Great, Victor’s little
speech did nothing to inspire faith that all was well in my world. Basically,
there was fifty percent chance I could get shot again and I was just a pawn on
the great chessboard of organized crime.

Chelsea had been
listening to the conversation and based on her expression, she was just as
thrilled. “Victor, is Chelsea going to be safe?”

           
“You’re the one people want, Natalie. Chelsea has better
odds than you, but someone could use her to get to you.” Victor looked at
Chelsea. “Sorry sweetie, just being up front here.”

           
“Oh God, Chels, I’m so sorry. I’ll move out.”

           
“Nat, don’t be ridiculous.” She pulled me into a hug then
whispered in my ear. “I’m with you on this and I’m willing to take the risk.”

I started to cry. “I
don’t want anything to happen to you.”

           
“Princess, it’s not as bad as it sounds. As far as contracts
go, yours isn’t big enough to warrant any outside interest. If Marco was
offering $100,000, then that would be a different story. Also, if he finds out
you’re here, he can send someone directly. I’m confident with our sources
around the area that we’ll hear about any new arrivals.”

           
“Grant did say that Gio already knew he and Dom were in
town.”

           
“We have eyes everywhere. Now, are you ready to go?”

           
“No, I have to pack,” I said and went inside.

After hastily stuffing
my crap into the duffel bag, I looked around the room to make sure I didn’t
leave anything behind and went downstairs. Chelsea was back in the kitchen with
a fresh cup of coffee.

           
“I called Jason and he’s on his way to pick me up.”

           
“Okay, do you mind bringing my bag?” Victor’s bike was
forcing me to travel light.

           
“Of course not - I’ll see you soon.”

Walking over, I gave
Chelsea a hug. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said before pulling away.

           
“I’m not going anywhere.”

Victor was already on
his bike and it thundered to life below him. He had a matte black helmet on and
his hair stuck out beneath. Hearing me approach on the gravel, he twisted on
his seat and handed me a helmet. This one was bright pink.

           
“Victor, you didn’t strike me as a guy who likes to wear
pink.”

He laughed and shook
his head, “So glad you’re a smart ass. I was beginning to think you were going
to be nothing but mopey and serious all of the time. I like to keep a spare
helmet for the ladies,” he said with a suggestive grin.

I chose to ignore him.
After securing the helmet by tightening the chin strap, I looked at the tiny
backseat behind Victor, trying to determine how to actually get on the damn
thing.

           
“Have you ever ridden bitch before?”

           
“Excuse me?” I asked with my hands on my hips.

Victor laughed again.
“Have you ever ridden on the back of a bike?”

           
“No. In Philly I usually take a cab or the subway.”

           
“Okay, Princess. Put your left foot on this rest here,” he
gestured to a chrome pedal with a black rubber grip. “Step on that and swing
your leg over the back of the bike. Lean on me all you want. Once we’re in
motion, hold on to me and move in the same direction I move.”

He made it sound so
easy and I’d like to say that I gracefully mounted the bike on the first try,
but I didn’t. On my third attempt, and after putting Victor’s shoulders in a
death grip, my ass was finally in the seat. Vibrations rumbled through my
entire body and I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face against
his back, as he righted the bike and eased it forward.

Once he was clear of
the gravel, Victor accelerated and the bike roared, taking off in a streak. I
screamed into his t-shirt and held on tight enough to restrict his breathing.
He chuckled, the vibrations from his chest blended in with the other vibrations
wracking my body.

After a few turns and
bends in the road where I moved as one with Victor, I relaxed and loosened my
hold. Sitting up a little straighter, I took in our surroundings. The Pacific
Ocean stretched out on our right, sunlight glinting off the calm waves. Traffic
whipped past, stirring up dust on the road. I quickly learned to keep my mouth
shut when a gritty film formed on my front teeth. In the side view mirror I
caught a glimpse of my hair trailing out behind me like a cape. The wind on my
eyes made them water, so I closed them and rested my head against the firm
expanse of Victor’s back, right between his shoulder blades. I wasn’t entirely
comfortable with the intimacy of our positions, especially since every time
Victor stopped when traffic jammed I slid forward, which forced my crotch
against the small of his back.

The closer we got to my
apartment, the heavier traffic became. At one point we were just inching along
and it got hot being exposed to the glaring sun with the helmet trapping all
sorts of heat and from being so close to Victor.

Finally we arrived at
the apartment complex. I dismounted on shaky legs and the nerve endings in my
ass cheeks continued to vibrate. I handed the helmet back to Victor and he
tucked it into a saddlebag. Shaking my hair loose, I attempted to run my
fingers through it, but they kept getting snagged in tangles so I gave up.
Victor scanned the parking lot before following me up the stairs.

Once inside, I gave him
the grand tour of our 780 square foot box. He noted there was only one
entrance. Chelsea’s bedroom featured a single window which had a two story drop
to a culvert that ran behind our building.

           
“Do you own a gun?” Victor asked.

           
“No.” I remembered the last time I held a gun, the cold
weight of it in my hand and the recoil as I pulled the trigger. Then I
remembered the man I shot and started shaking. I took a couple deep breaths and
focused on clearing the thoughts from my head.

Victor looked at me
with a raised eyebrow, but didn’t inquire about my reaction. Instead he
continued with his questioning.
 
“Have
you ever taken any self-defense classes?”

           
“No.” Flashes of Mr. Genovese back handing me and tossing
me across the room invaded my thoughts then. Closing my eyes, I took a few more
deep breaths, which only made me lightheaded. I started to sway, but Victor
caught my elbow, steadying me. “Is it going to come to that? To me defending
myself?” I asked, taking a seat on the futon.

Victor sat down next to
me. “Judging by your reactions, I think it’s already come to that.”

I nodded, but didn’t
divulge any details.

           
“And the outcome?”

           
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” I said with a shaky laugh.
“Honestly, I think luck had everything to do with it.” I glanced over at
Victor. He was reclined back on the futon with an arm slung across the top of
the cushion and his long legs stretched out before him. Even in this
semi-relaxed state he gave off a “don’t fuck with me” vibe: a combination of
his muscular build, tattoos, piercings and overall dark presence. I didn’t have
any of those advantages and needed to learn how to protect myself.

           
“Victor, do you own a gun?”

He looked at me and let
out a low chuckle. “Is the Pope Catholic? I’m an enforcer, of course I have
one.” Leaning forward, he rolled up his jeans to reveal a gun secured in a
holster wrapped around the top of his black boot.

           
“Can you teach me how to shoot?”

Victor raised his
eyebrows in surprise. “That’s really not part of the deal.”

           
“Please? I need to feel empowered. I’ve been in a
situation where my protector was incapacitated and I want to be prepared in
case that ever happens again. Besides, we’re going to be spending some time
together, right?”

           
“What the hell happened in Philly? Jesus. Alright, fine.
I’ll teach you to shoot, Princess.”

           
“Thank you! And why do you call me that?”

           
“What, Princess?”

           
“Yeah.”

           
“Well, if Dom is successful in taking out Marco, he’ll be
taking over as the new Don. Since you’re his girl, you’re practically royalty.”

           
“I’m not his girl. Not anymore anyway.” I felt the tears
dampen my cheeks before I realized I was crying. Just then the front door
opened. Chelsea and Jason walked into the apartment. Upon seeing me, Chelsea
dropped her bag and rushed over, sitting down between me and Victor, creating a
barrier.

           
“What did you say to her?” She barked at Victor who
raised his hands in surrender.

           
“He didn’t, Chels. We were just talking about Dominic.”

           
“Oh.” Her face softened with understanding and her
posture became less defensive.

Jason walked into the
room carrying my duffle bag. My back pack was slung over his shoulder. “So it’s
done?” he asked, warily eyeing up Victor.

           
“Yes, it’s done.”

After setting my bags
down on the floor by the coffee table he stepped forward, “Hey, I’m Jason,” he
said and stuck his hand out for Victor who introduced himself.

           
“He’s going to be keeping an eye on me until things blow
over,” I told Jason.

He didn’t look too
happy about that idea. “Can I talk to you?”

I stood up and we
walked down the hall to Chelsea’s bedroom. Jason shut the door behind us. “Are
you okay? Are you safe with that guy?”

           
“I’m sad about Dominic, that’s why I was crying. Victor
is going to protect me and it’s reassuring knowing he has my back.” I didn’t
mention the shooting lessons. I wanted to keep that between me and Victor.

           
“Okay, as long as you’re alright with it.” He smiled and
stepped closer, cupping my cheek with his hand. “I just worry about you.” He
moved in even more like he was going to kiss me and I took a step back,
breaking contact. His arm dropped to his side.

           
“Jason, I can’t. It’s too soon. Things need to be
platonic between us.”

           
“I’m sorry, you’re right. You need time.” He turned and
opened the bedroom door. “I’m heading out, but I’ll call you later.”

           
“Okay, thanks for understanding.” He hid his disappointment
well, but not completely. Before he left I saw the way his shoulders dropped
slightly and a flash of emotion passed across his eyes, like a shadow.

I stepped out of the
bedroom and walked back to the living room just as Jason was closing the front
door. Chelsea and Victor were on opposite ends of the futon.

           
“Nat, you need your own reality show with all the drama
in your life,” Chelsea teased. I stuck my tongue out at her and sat down in the
middle of the futon.

           
“So Victor, or can I call you Vic, what’s the plan?” I
asked.

           
“Victor is what I prefer. I’ll need a general idea of
what your schedule is like and a list of the places you frequent the most. I’m
not going to be watching you all of the time. I still have clients I need to
see, but my schedule is flexible so I can devote more time.”

           
“Clients? What do you do?” Chelsea asked.

Victor stretched his
arms out in front of him, putting his tattoos on full display. There were a lot
of skulls, some demonic looking creature and on his left forearm was a familiar
word: Famiglia. It was in a black cursive font with a red outline. Dominic had
the same word tattooed on his shoulder. “I’m a tattoo artist and have my own
shop. I have an exclusive client list so I don’t have to stay there and drum up
work like my employees do.”