The Beautiful People (19 page)
“Let’s talk
about this in a few minutes. I’m going to help Brittany.” Dominic nodded, his
jaw still clenched with anger, and left the bedroom.
Brittany needed to lean
against me as I helped her into the bathtub. She looked up at me gratefully
with watery eyes after she got settled into the hot, sudsy water.
“Thanks,
Nat. This feels good.”
“I know. It
did wonders for me. Do you need anything else?”
“Did we go
to a doctor?” she asked and looked confused.
“We did. He
gave you a sedative and knocked you out. I think it was a horse tranquilizer
because you were out cold,” I joked weakly.
“Are there
any more?”
“Any more
what - sedatives?” she nodded and hissed in discomfort when she shifted in the
tub.
“No, but he
gave us a few pain pills. Do you need one?”
“God, yes!”
she exclaimed. “I feel like I’ve been split in two.” I flinched at this
description. The way those men had their way with her, they came pretty close
to doing that.
“Okay, I’ll
go get them.” I hurried out of the room to ask Dominic where the pills were. He
was on his cell phone talking to someone and shut up the second he saw me. I
asked him where the pills were and he pointed to the kitchen counter. I grabbed
the bottle and a glass of water then hurried back to the bathroom. I heard
Dominic continue speaking again as soon as I left the room.
After making sure
Brittany was all set I went out to see Dominic. He was off the phone and
staring out the window. He must have heard my movements and turned to look at
me. He still looked angry, but seemed to have calmed down considerably.
“Who were you
talking to?” I asked.
“Grant. He
wanted to know how you’re doing.”
“What did
you tell him?”
“That you
seem to be handling everything pretty well…on the outside.”
“But not on
the inside.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“How are
you doing, Nat?” he asked softly.
“Do you
really want to know?”
“Of course,
I love you and want to know what I can do, what I need to do!” He walked over, pulling
me gently against his body. My head rested on his chest and I inhaled the
familiar smell; a little woodsy from his cologne and spice from his deodorant.
“You need
to talk about it. You shouldn’t keep it bottled up inside,” he prodded. I
thought about what I was going to say first before responding.
“I still
feel his hands on me and taste him in my mouth. It’s awful and won’t go away!
And I still feel your uncle’s hand around my throat. It’s hard to breathe. I
don’t know whether to cry or to puke! All I really want to do is sleep; hoping
maybe I’ll wake up and it would have just been a bad dream.” Dominic hugged me
tighter the more I revealed. “Despite all that I consider myself lucky…it could
have been so much worse.” Despite my efforts to stay strong I started to sob
again, soaking the front of Dominic’s t-shirt. He didn’t seem to notice.
“I will kill
him.” Dominic announced. The finality in his voice caused me to look up at him.
“Dom, as
much as I want him to suffer an excruciating death, it’s suicide! What would
happen to you if you attempted to kill him? You’d be dead. I can’t deal with
that.”
“He can’t,
they can’t be allowed to get away with what they did to you and to Brit.” As
much as I wanted to agree with him and have him avenge me, it would be stupid
to allow it. Dominic would be dead before he left New York City.
“Didn’t you
tell me that Mr. Genovese is the most powerful out of the five families?” I
asked him.
“Yeah,” he
answered unwillingly.
“Do you
really think that you can get away with it?”
“Yes, Grant
and I were talking-“
“What!” I
cut him off. “Not Grant too! You guys are crazy. Just stop thinking about it,
it’s not an option.” I pushed myself out of his embrace and glared up at him.
“But, Nat
–“
“No. I
don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t want to know.” I crossed my arms over my
chest and turned away.
Dom moved up behind me
and rested his chin on my shoulder. His stubble tickled against my skin.
“You’re right. I won’t talk about it anymore,” he whispered in my ear.
“Thank
you.” He gave in way too easily. I had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be
the end of his crazy scheme.
The week passed quickly,
despite becoming a recluse in the condo. Brittany stayed with me and we passed
the time up at the rooftop pool or sitting on the deck. We would get up around
noon and mix margaritas or green apple martinis and the lounging would begin.
An hour into our day we would be relatively numb. Our bruises were fading to
yellow and Brittany’s vision was no longer impaired, but our psyches had yet to
heal. Dom would leave us alone and was busy on some side project that the Grabanos
were working on. I had no desire to know the particulars about the project.
Brittany and I had gone
from foes to friends. Our shared experience forced the friendship upon us. When
Dom left us alone, we talked about that night. Brittany didn’t know I witnessed
part of her attack. She recalled hearing a struggle from across the hall, like
a body being slammed against the wall. I explained that was me getting thrown
into a door.
Saturday afternoon, a
week after the horrific night, Brittany and I sat on the deck, with our martinis
in hand. We both sat in silence, deep in our own thoughts. Out of the corner of
my eye I saw Brittany’s hand tremble. She lifted her glass to her lips and
drained it empty.
“I need
another drink,” she declared and stood up. “You?” she asked me. I drained my
glass and followed her into the kitchen. We had already polished off the bottle
of green apple martini mix, so we moved onto straight vodka. Dominic came home from
the gym to get ready for work and found us close to passing out on the
sectional. Brittany’s glass was knocked over on the coffee table, an ice cube
slowly melting into a pool on the finished wood.
He gave me
a disappointed look and walked into the bedroom. I probably should have
followed, but I was incapable of getting up off the sofa.
“Was that
Dom?” Brittany slurred.
“Uh huh.”
“Do you
think he has any coke?”
“Probably
not,” I answered. Dominic was like me and preferred smoking a joint over
snorting lines.
“God, I
could really go for something stronger,” she slurred, almost unintelligible.
My eyes were drifting
closed when Dom came out into the living room. He had changed into his work
clothes and the smell of his body wash trailed out behind him.
“Dom, when you
come home, can you bring some coke?” Brittany asked in a pleading voice.
He eyed her
warily, “I’ll see what I can do.” His answer was noncommittal. “You two are a
sight.” he stated and looked at me.
I couldn’t meet his
eyes. We must have seemed pretty pathetic to him; hiding away all week and
drinking like it was our job.
“Did you
eat anything today?” he asked.
“No, I
haven’t been hungry.” Dom lowered his head in frustration. I hadn’t eaten more
than a handful of crackers all week. My usual ravenous appetite still hadn’t
returned. Even though it had only been a few days I could tell that I lost
weight. My face looked gaunt and my clothes fit looser. I couldn’t explain to
Dom that my mouth still tasted like ashtray and only the alcohol was palatable.
He would just get pissed off and start talking crazy again.
Brittany suddenly stood
up and took off in a dash towards the bathroom. Seconds later we could hear her
hurling in the toilet.
“Nice,” Dom
remarked before he turned his attention back to me. “Will you try to eat
something? Please? I’m really worried about you.” His concern was visible.
“I’ll try,”
I promised.
He bent over and kissed
my forehead. “I’ll be home later than usual. Call me if you need anything.”
“Ok.” I
slouched back against the sofa. “Dom?” He looked back at me. “Love you.”
He smiled at me, “I
love you too.” As he walked away I noticed his gun was tucked in the back of
his pants. Before I could say anything I passed out.
A phone was ringing in
the background. As I surfaced to consciousness the ringing grew louder and more
insistent. I opened my eyes and was blinded by the sunlight. I moaned and
rolled over towards the sound. My head was pounding and I was so thirsty. The
phone stopped and I embraced the silence. Almost as soon as it had stopped, it started
again. The ringing was coming from the bathroom. I dragged myself out of bed to
grab my cell phone off of the vanity.
“Hello?” My
voice was scratchy.
“Nat, it’s
Miranda. Is Dom there?” I detected distress in her tone. I walked back out into
the bedroom to get Dom and saw that the bed was empty. His side of the bed looked
like it hadn’t been slept in at all last night.
“Hold on,
let me check.” After a survey of the condo, I found Brittany passed out on the
floor of the second bathroom, but Dom wasn’t anywhere to be found. “No. He’s
not here.”
“Shit. Have
you heard from him or Grant?” The hysteria in her voice was increasing.
“No. Why?
What’s going on Miranda?” I demanded. She was freaking me out.
“Grant’s
car is still outside Crimson and he didn’t come home last night.”
“It doesn’t
look like Dom did either. Were they going somewhere after work?”
“They
didn’t work last night.”
“But,
Dominic was going to work, that’s the last time I saw him.” Then I remembered
the gun in his pants. That wasn’t part of his uniform.
“What did
they do last night? Do you know?” Miranda was silent on the other end.
“Miranda, are you still there?”
“Yes.
You’re not going to like this,” she paused. “They went to New York City last
night.” My heart stopped.
“Oh no,” I
whispered. My legs gave out and I collapsed on the floor. I pictured Dominic
and Grant lying in pools of blood. Their eyes open, vacant and beginning to
cloud over. “Why didn’t you stop them!”
“They
wouldn’t listen to me and were hell bent on evening the score.”
“And
they’re not answering their cell phones are they?” I asked.
“No. I’ve
tried repeatedly.”
“Who else
was in on it?”
“Just them.
They didn’t want to involve anyone else.”
“So, your
dad doesn’t know or Dom’s dad?”
“I don’t
think so, they would have prevented something like this. A hit on Mr. Genovese
is very serious.”
“What were
they thinking?”
“I’m going
to make some more calls. Will you call me if you hear from them?”
“Of course,
you do the same.” I hung up the phone and stayed on the floor. I called Dom’s
cell and it went straight to voicemail. “Please call me as soon as you get this.”
Next I tried Grant and got his voicemail. I left the same message. My nerves
were shot and I was thirsty. I heaved myself up off the floor and marched into
the kitchen. The bottle of vodka was still on the counter. I poured myself a
glass and took some big gulps. It didn’t take long for the warmth to settle in
and relax my nerves. The pounding in my head began to ease off. I poured
another glass and went to go check on Brittany.
She was curled around
the toilet, her head propped up on a towel.
“Brit, wake
up.” I nudged her leg with my bare foot. She groaned and mumbled something.
“Brit, come on.” I urged, nudging her again. She shook her leg, mumbling incoherently,
but still didn’t wake up. She looked cold lying on the tile floor in shorts and
a tank top. The air conditioning vent was directly overhead and blasting arctic
air down on her. I grabbed the other towel off of the rack and draped it over
her.
Hours passed. Brittany
slept and my phone never rang. Even though I had consumed two glasses of vodka,
it hadn’t eased any of the edginess. I rolled a joint and smoked it. This
helped a little. My eyelids got heavy and started to close. The ringing of my
cell phone pierced the silence of the condo and jerked me awake. I recognized
Grant’s number.
“Grant?
Where are you? Are you alright? Is Dom with you? What the hell were you
thinking?” I fired off questions at him.
“Nat, slow
down. We’re fine.” Relief washed over me and tears filled my eyes.
“Where are
you?”
“At
Crimson. I needed to pick up my car.”
“Where’s
Dom?”
“He is
talking to his dad. Apparently Miranda was ready to call in the National Guard.
Rico isn’t too pleased with his son right now.”
“Did you do
what I think you were going to do?”
“Yes.”
I steadied myself
with another gulp of vodka.
“I’m
going to go pick up Miranda and we’ll be over.” Grant hung up the phone. The
conversation must have broken through Brittany’s slumber because she wandered
into the living room.
“Who was
that?” she asked through a yawn.
“Grant. He,
Dom and Miranda are coming over.” I answered.
“What’s
wrong?”
“Grant and
Dominic went to NYC last night to avenge our assaults.” Her eyes grew huge with
shock and disbelief.
“They did?
Wow!” She plopped down on the sofa next to me and grabbed my glass. After she
took a generous sip she continued. “I wish I could have seen it. In fact, I
would have liked to have killed those pricks myself.” From the intense look on
her face, I knew she meant it.
“Yeah, they
deserved it, but it was a reckless move.”
“What do
you mean?” she asked.
“Because
those deaths are going to be avenged and who do you think the targets are going
to be?”
“Will they
know who did it? I mean it is the mafia, hits happen all the time.”
“I don’t
think it will take long for them to piece together that these were the same men
who came to Philly last weekend.”
“Eh, you
worry too much Nat. I grew up around this shit and unless Dom and Grant were
seen taking them out, or somebody rats them out, they should be fine.” She
attempted to convince me, but didn’t sound too convinced herself. We passed the
glass of vodka between us and waited for everyone to arrive.
They took a while and
we had moved on to making screwdrivers in the kitchen when they walked in the
door. Brittany raised her glass in a toast. “Here’s to taking care of
business!” I remained silent and my glass stayed on the counter. Miranda didn’t
look jovial either. Relieved that everyone had returned safely? Yes. Happy? No.
Dominic kept avoiding
my gaze and stayed on the other side of the island. He and Grant were both on
edge. Miranda and I remained silent. Brittany chattered on like the hostess at
a party. She poured screwdrivers for everyone, but the drinks remained
untouched. I gulped mine down and moved on to one of the unclaimed glasses. Dominic’s
cell vibrated on the countertop and he snatched it up and answered with his
back to us. He glanced at Grant to get his attention.
“What
channel? I’ll turn it on.” He snapped his phone shut and grabbed the television
remote. He scrolled through the channels and ended on CNN Headline News. The
screen filled up with the image of a crime scene. Police tape stretched across
a sidewalk outside of a brownstone building. Uniformed and plain clothes police
officers milled about the scene. I was caught up in the images and not paying
attention to the reporter until I heard the name Luigi Genovese. That caught my
attention.
“…The
murder rate in New York City rose dramatically last night after a brutal
slaying that resulted in the death of four victims. One of those victims is Luigi
Genovese, alleged boss of the Genovese mob family, rumored to be the most
powerful crime family in the country. The names of the other victims haven’t
been released, but they are believed to be members of NYC’s criminal underworld
and associates of Genovese. Witnesses reported hearing a series of gunshots and
a dark sedan fleeing the scene. Federal authorities have been busy this summer with
mob violence escalating in Philadelphia. They are investigating to see if this
recent incident is related.”
Miranda and I exchanged
nervous glances when Philadelphia was mentioned.
“Damn it!”
Grant burst. “That made the news quickly.”
“Yeah it did,”
Dominic agreed. “The connection to Philly is a little unnerving.”
I went back to refill
my glass. Miranda’s phone rang and I could hear the angry voice on the other
end clear across the room.
“Yes. He’s
right here. Hold on.” She handed the phone to Dominic. “It’s my dad. He wants
to talk to you.”
Dominic took the phone
and walked away from the group. I followed his movements with my eyes. I saw
him tense up when Marco lit into him.
“But…wait…but…”
he couldn’t get a word in. “Fine. I understand. Thanks.” He hung up and handed
the phone back to Miranda.
“What did
he say?” Grant asked.
“That we
were stupid and impulsive and crossed the line. He said he should probably turn
us over to the families. But, he knows why we did it, doesn’t understand it, but
we’re family and he’ll back us up. Whatever happens,” he ended ominously.
“Do the
families suspect us?” Grant pried.
“Uncle Marco
didn’t know. Apparently there is total chaos in New York right now. The consigliore
to Genovese is trying to establish some order. He told us to keep a low profile
and he’ll let us know if he hears anything.”
“He’s right
you know. That was stupid and impulsive.” I never thought I would agree with
Uncle Marco.
“Nat, there
was no way in hell I was going to let that asshole get away with it.” Grant
responded, his nostrils flaring.
“What do
you think is going to happen when they figure out whose responsible?”
“Yeah, this
vendetta isn’t going to go away,” Miranda chimed in.
“I defended
your honor and I’m glad I did it,” Dominic said to me. This whole week his face
bore a permanent pained expression. That expression was gone and replaced with
satisfaction.
Screaming erupted from
the couch and we all jumped. We had forgotten that Brittany was even in the
room with us. Sometime during the news broadcast she had passed out. Now she
tossed in her sleep, kicking and screaming. I had a feeling I knew what her
nightmares were about.
Miranda’s defensive
stance softened as she watched Brittany writhe on the couch.
“Well,
what’s done is done. They deserved it,” spoken like a true Mafia princess. Miranda
reached for Grant’s hand. Just like that he was forgiven and was the hero
again.
Dom looked to me for
his forgiveness. That was going to be harder to come by. Not only did he go
against my wishes and avenge my assault, but he took a human life. Was the
crime I had endured worth a human life? Now, all of our lives could be at risk.
I shook my head and looked away from his gaze. I heard him storm off and the
sliding glass door to the deck slide open and shut.
“I’ll go
talk to him,” Grant offered. Miranda walked up to me as I drank more
screwdriver.
“Natalie,
I know you’re upset, but can you ease up on Dom?”
“Now
you’re on their side? A minute ago you were just as pissed.”
“I
was upset, true. They could have been killed…but they weren’t. They delivered
justice, Grabano style…for what they did to you and Brit.”
It was hard to think
straight; the vodka was clouding my brain. Maybe Miranda was right. I should
have known that Dom and Grant would do this. They were more alike than they
knew. I couldn’t help but worry that they too would have to pay for their
crimes. Secretly, deep down inside, I was glad Mr. Genovese was dead. Now maybe
his smell which still clung to my skin would begin to fade.
A month after the hits
in NYC, things had started to return to normal. The senior family members had
heard nothing linking the crimes to Philly aside from the initial news
broadcast. I returned to work and Miranda ran interference with her dad. I had
slowly forgiven Dominic and we worked on repairing our physical relationship.
The attack had left me uncertain about my body and disconnected with my
emotions. We hadn’t made love yet and he was patient with me while I healed.
I was working the gun
check. It was a Saturday night and the cool crisp of fall hung in the air. Rocco
Nucci and his boys rolled in. Rocco winked at me as he walked past the metal
detector. He wouldn’t be checking his gun tonight. “How ya doin’, doll?” he
asked me when he stopped in front of the counter. “You’re Dom’s girl, right?”
