The Beautiful People (30 page)

I found Angela in the
kitchen making lasagna. “I’m leaving now,” I announced.

“Good.”
Wow, that was rude!

“Excuse
me?”

“Leave.
Get out while you still can,” Angela set the serving spoon down and looked at
me. “If you stay, you will grow roots that will be imbedded here and you will
never leave.” Her eyes looked haunted and I’m glad Dom had explained her
history to me, otherwise I would probably think she was nuts.

“I’ve
been planning to leave,” I admitted. She looked relieved when I said this.

“When?”
I hesitated and she sensed it. “Let’s sit.” She gestured to the dining room
table. We sat down and I still didn’t know if I should tell her. “Natalie, I
wish I could turn back time and make a different choice. I don’t regret the
love and I wouldn’t trade my children for anything, but if I could go back to
when I was eighteen, knowing what I know now, I would have run. I see myself in
you.”

“I’ve
made my choice and I am leaving. After the shooting…I just can’t do it
anymore.”

She nodded,
understanding. “When I got the call that my son had been shot, well, that was
my worst fear coming to reality. Thank God he survived. A parent shouldn’t
outlive their child. And Rico too, I’m always on edge waiting for the next
call.” Her eyes glistened with tears and she smiled faintly at me. “When do you
plan on leaving?”

“Tomorrow,
after my appointment with Dr. Russo. I need to do it before Dom gets home
otherwise, I’m afraid I won’t be able to.” Once again she nodded in
understanding.

“Where
will you go?”

“I
have a plan and hopefully it works out.”

“Do
you have enough money?”

“I
think so.” Angela stood up and walked over to the hutch. She grabbed a small
ceramic jar and fished out a wad of bills. She handed the money to me.

“I
don’t know how much is there, but every little bit helps.”

Stunned,
I took the money. “You don’t have to –“ 

She
cut me off. “I want to help, Natalie. Go, start over,” she smiled a
conspiratorial grin. “I’ll stall Dom as long as possible so you can get a good
head start. Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. He’s a Grabano,” she added,
as if that explained everything. “Go and don’t look back.”

I stood up and she
walked me to the door. “Thank you,” I whispered, the tears in my throat were
constricting my vocal chords.

            “I wish
someone had done the same for me,” she said, a wistful look in her eyes. She
hugged me then and this time it reminded me of her sister, Aunt Gloria’s hugs.
Maybe they were more alike after all. “Be safe.”

I walked, well floated
to my car. Being able to tell someone my decision, and have it reinforced,
lifted the tremendous weight I had been carrying. Now, I felt almost buoyant. I
was going to be okay, Dom was going to be okay. It had felt like my world had
been imploding around me, but I could see that reconstruction was possible.

After packing the last
of my belongings and taking a long, hot bath I was ready to write Dom’s letter:

Dearest Dominic,

You’re probably wondering
where I am and why I am not here to welcome you home. I am so sorry, but I knew
that if I waited for you, I would never leave. I haven’t been able to adjust to
this life, your life, and when I shot that man, that was the proverbial straw
that broke the camel’s back. I love with you all of my being, but I need to
love myself more. Between being attacked, your uncle’s craziness and the
murder…I can’t take another day. Please let your Uncle Marco know that I am not
going to rat him out. I would only be implicating you, Grant, and now myself.
Your life is here, your family is here and this life is for you - it’s all
you’ve ever known. I really tried to make it work. If I stay my life would be
full of regret and I would probably resent you one day.

I am going away to
start over. As I told Grant in his letter, please don’t try to find me. Just let
me go.        

All my love,

Natalie

Tears were oozing out
of my eyes and it was hard to see the words I had written. I had to move away
so the ink wouldn’t smear. Several drops were already wrinkling the paper. I
crawled onto the bed and curled up into a ball. The tears fell until my body
wasn’t capable of producing anymore. Never had I felt more drained, completely
and utterly drained.

***

The alarm went off and
my eyes sprung open. The day had arrived. I quickly showered, pleased to see
that the massive bruise around my healing wound had faded to a mottled greenish
yellow. It only took two trips to pack up my car. I did a final sweep of the
condo and placed the letters for Grant and Dominic on the kitchen counter. I
would mail my mom’s letter on the way out of town. I bid a silent farewell to
the home Dominic and I shared then walked out the door.

The
End

Read
on for a sneak peak of

CLEAN
SLATE

Book
Two of The New Mafia Trilogy

Coming
soon!

CLEAN
SLATE

Chapter
One

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. “Yes, 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 heartbeat 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 boyfriend Dominic (who I had just
left) 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 my brother was a
hit man for the mob after unwittingly being at the scene of one of his triple
murders. That same night I learned my boyfriend was also a Mafioso. Then, I was
sexually assaulted by the Don of the most powerful mob families in the country,
who my brother and boyfriend murdered in cold blood, triggering (no pun
intended) a violent war. Finally, I had been 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. I didn’t want to be a mafia princess anymore. To avoid
losing myself completely, I left the love of my life and my family behind. By
the time I hit Montana, I realized I wasn’t being followed 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 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
for me 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 thick enough to conceal the
healing wound.

            “What is
that?” She asked at the same time sliding my strap over. The bruising had faded
to a faint jaundice yellow, but the skin and 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 don’t tell anyone you
saw me. Not even your mom”

Chelsea didn’t say
anything and just nodded her head in agreement. I think my statement stunned
her into silence. She stared after my car after I backed out and pulled away.

Chapter
2

I followed Chelsea’s
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 held her card out 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 stucco exterior, like most of the homes
and apartment buildings I had passed. A water fountain filled up the center of
a flagstone 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 Pappazan
chair 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. I 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.” 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
parched.

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 one word.

            “Spill.”

            We stared
at each other and Chelsea’s gaze was unwavering. 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?”

            “Yes.”

            “Dominic
took me there one night after work and it happened to be the same night that
Grant whacked three men…at the same place.”

     Chelsea’s blue
eyes widened with astonishment.

            “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 and it
gets worse.” I told her about my assault and about my coworker, Brittany, being
brutally raped. I told her about the pressure and the fear. But also I told her
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.” I looked up at Chelsea knowing she could probably already see the question
on my face.

            “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.