Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) (28 page)

           
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered and walked me
backwards toward the bed. When I felt the mattress hit the back of my knees, I
turned and crawled to the center, giving Jason a full view. I started to flip
over, but Jason stopped me, keeping me on all fours. Running his hands down my
spine, he placed soft kisses in their wake, nipping on my shoulder blades and the
curve of my hips. This combined with the ends of his hair tickling my skin,
sent contrasting sensations across nerves, causing my nipples to tighten. He
slid a finger inside me, holding me in place with his other hand on the small
of my back as he started playing. He moved in and out, adding another finger
when I grew moist enough, stretching me while applying pressure to my clit with
his thumb. Whenever I started to buck against his hand, he held me in place,
preventing me from increasing the friction so I couldn’t release the building
tension.

           
“Jase, please,” I begged, throwing my head back as I
pushed against him.

He bent over me,
pressing his length against my entrance. Brushing my long hair aside, he kissed
my neck. “Where are the condoms?” he breathed in my ear before taking the
earlobe between his teeth.

I was shaking so badly
and my core was like a pot of water simmering at a low boil. “In there,” I
panted, pointing at the drawer of the bedside table.

           
“Will there be any surprises in there?” he asked, kissing
along my neck and slipping a finger back inside me.

           
“No, no surprises,” I panted. The stuff from Dom was in a
shoe box on the shelf in my closet.

He moved away briefly
and pulled open the drawer. Moments later he had a condom on and was pushing
into me, holding my hips in place, gaining delicious momentum with each thrust.
His skin seared mine where our bodies touched and I moved with him, increasing
the pressure, adjusting to his size. Just as I was ready to explode, he pulled
out and flipped me over onto my back before sliding into me again. With my legs
up over his shoulders, my hips rose to meet his and we developed a steady
rhythm. His chest glistened from a light sheen of sweat and his eyes drifted
closed as he threw his head back and increased the pounding. I held on, digging
my fingers into his ass cheeks, drawing him in deeper.

Jason released my legs
and fell forward, an arm on each side of me. He never broke his rhythm and I
wrapped my legs around his waist. Arching against him, he lowered his head and
drew a nipple into his mouth; sucking on it, tracing his tongue over the
sensitive nub, making me cry out. The simmer built to a full boil and I was so
close to an orgasm. Jason sensed it, must have felt me tighten around him. He
released my nipple with a pop; the cold air hitting it added another layer to
the sensory overload.

           
“God, I love you baby,” Jason whispered and even though
he had already said this, it still sounded foreign and disrupted my rhythm,
causing my body to retreat from its imminent orgasm. So, I blocked out his
words, focusing instead on the weight of Jason above me and the feel of him
inside me. I focused on the citrus and sage scent of his cologne and the slight
musk our bodies created. I focused on the slap of skin against skin and this
did the trick. I clenched around Jason, pushing my hips against his, to get him
as deep as possible. “Oh God, oh yes!” I screamed, my legs squeezed him as I
went over the edge. Then Jason cried out and came in three violent thrusts.

He kissed me, a slow,
deep kiss since we weren’t in a hurry anymore. His cock twitched inside me a
few more times, sending aftershocks through my system. He pulled out and with
one last kiss, got up to get rid of the condom. As soon as Jason returned from
the bathroom, he climbed into bed, pulling me close and lifting the covers over
our naked bodies. He fell asleep and I lay there wide awake, mildly panicking
over the fact that he said he loved me. I liked Jason, but didn’t love him and
I held onto the hope that someday I would. With Dominic it was an instantaneous
burn, just being in the same room with him made my pulse jump. Maybe with Jason
it would be slow to spark and eventually turn into something bigger? At least
Jason was safe. I didn’t have to worry about him getting shot or arrested.

My phone rang early the
next morning, less than two hours after I had finally fallen asleep. I
extricated myself free of Jason’s arms without waking him and dashed into the
hallway to answer the call from Miranda.

           
“Hey, everything okay?”
  

           
“Oh yes, everything is great,” she chirped and I yawned.
“Oh shit, it’s early there isn’t it? I’m sorry, I forgot about the time
difference. Did I wake you up?”

           
“Yeah, but it’s okay. I’m going shooting with Victor
today, so I should probably get properly caffeinated.”

           
“Shooting?”

Shit, I hadn’t told
Grant about my new hobby so obviously Miranda didn’t know. “Yeah, Victor is
teaching me. For self-defense, you know? I haven’t told anyone; please keep it
on the low.”

           
“Wow, that’s pretty bad ass, but I understand why.”
Miranda was there after Brittany and I were assaulted and she comforted me in
the backseat the night I was shot. She of all people would appreciate the need
for me to defend myself. “I won’t say anything. We’ll keep this between sisters-in-laws.
Because you know Grant would shit himself and he’s got enough to worry about.”

           
“Thanks. So what’s up?”

           
“The bridesmaid dresses are in already. Do you think you
can fly in a few days earlier for a fitting?”

           
“Sure, I can do that. I still need to book a flight and
figure out where I’m staying.”

           
“Oh, that’s taken care of. Grant got your mom a room at
Embassy Suites and it has an extra bedroom for you. Just get your ass here and
let us know if you need help with your plane ticket.”

Leave it to Grant to
have everything planned out and under control. I had yet to reach out to my mom
and wasn’t looking forward to our reunion. Honestly, I was intimidated to
confront her, but knew it was inevitable. Focusing back on the conversation, I
thanked Miranda for the offer to help and promised to let her know when I was
flying in. I was already awake so instead of going back to bed, I went into the
kitchen to make a monster pot of coffee, grabbing a Diet Coke out of the fridge
to drink while the coffee brewed. I was in a trance watching the slow drip of
the dark liquid that I didn't hear Jason walking up behind me, his bare feet
silent on the linoleum floor. He slipped his arms around my hips and I jumped.

           
“Easy, Nat, it’s just me.” Jason kissed my neck.

           
“Sorry, you were in like super stealth mode.” I relaxed
against him and he rested his chin on my shoulder.

           
“Did I hear you talking to someone?”

           
“Yeah, Miranda called about the wedding.”

           
“You mean the one you don’t want to take me to?”

My body tensed and I
turned to face him. “Jason, we’ve been through this. First, we haven’t been
going out that long and secondly, you’re better off not going to a Mafia
wedding.”

           
“Or you want time with Dominic.”

           
“You tell me you love me, but then you say this shit that
tells me you don’t trust me. Dominic and I are over, I’m with you. What more do
you want?” I stepped away from him, needing some distance.

           
“I want you to let me in! I know you’re holding back.” He
stepped forward, closing the gap between us. “And I’m not sharing you with the
Ghost of Relationships Past.”

We glared at each other
until I looked away, hating the tears that surfaced, more out of anger than
sadness. His accusations stung only because he was right. I was holding back.
Jason didn’t need to know everything about my past: my issues in high school,
the assault, Brittany’s suicide, and my killing of a man - all of that was
locked up tight. He certainly didn’t need to know I still had feelings for
Dominic. To make the situation even more intense, Victor took that moment to
knock on the door.

Jason welcomed Victor’s
presence with a stiff nod before turning to me. “We’re not done talking,” he
said before leaving us in the living room. He emerged from the bedroom a few
minutes later completely dressed. Right before walking out, he asked me to call
him when I was available. All the heat and passion we had shared the night
before was noticeably absent. I shivered at the coldness it was replaced with.

           
“Trouble in paradise
again
?”
Victor asked with a smirk, raising his eyebrow, the silver stud in his brow
glinting in the sun streaming in through the window.

           
“No, you just have impeccable timing. Come on, let’s go
shoot some things.” Fucking Jason, that man had me jumbled in knots.
 

PHILADELPHIA

DOMINIC

           
“Are the feds still out front?” I asked Roberta, the
concierge representative on duty.

           
“Hold on.” She set the phone down and I heard the echo of
her heels on the marble floor as she walked away. They faded, but moments later
grew louder as she returned to the concierge desk.

           
“Yes Mr. Grabano, they’re still there.”

           
“Shit.” I exhaled sharply and ran a hand through my hair.
“Please have my Mercedes brought around back.”

           
“Certainly.” She hung up and I slipped my cell phone in
my pocket. Of all the days for the federal agents to reappear it had to be the
day Grant and I were meeting with two homicide detectives to re-negotiate
terms. There had been a lot of people wanting to do this since Marco was
removed, and according to my dad, this was normal when there was leadership
change. Some of the requests were reasonable. The unreasonable requests were
answered with violence or I threatened to completely cut the person off.
Ninety-eight percent of the time they acquiesced and maintained the existing
business agreement. The cops we had on our payroll were greedy little fuckers
though and they knew we couldn’t cut off their support, so they basically had
us by the balls. The corrupt narco detectives I met with last week walked away
with $500 more each per month. Apparently one had a kid on the way and the
other was saving up to take his wife on an anniversary cruise.

Pulling a key card out
of my wallet, I swiped it through the reader on the service elevator and hit
the down button. The lift hummed to life behind the closed doors, which opened
seconds later. One of the perks of being the son of one of the building’s
investors was getting privileges like this. I took the elevator to the basement
level and snuck out the back by the housekeeping office. My steel gray Mercedes
GLK350 was idling quietly in the alley. Tom, one of the valet guys greeted me
and opened the door.

           
“Thanks man,” I said and handed him a twenty dollar bill.
Tom smiled and shut the door. As I drove off, I looked in the rearview mirror
to make sure I hadn’t been made by the feds. I purchased the SUV a month before
since I needed a less conspicuous vehicle. While I loved my Mustang, that
vintage beauty stuck out worse than a clown at a funeral.
 
After driving around a few blocks, it was
clear I didn’t have a tail so I sped off to meet with the detectives.

The meeting place was
an old corner bar in Port Richmond that had been closed for renovations. Port
Richmond was once known as the Polish section of Philly and while it was still
mostly blue collar, it had been recently undergoing a transformation of sorts.
A lot of Polish businesses still existed, like
Czerw's Kielbasa, the odors of garlic and other seasonings from homemade
kielbasa and pierogies could be smelled for blocks, but h
omes were being
updated and business such as micro-breweries and higher end restaurants were
phasing out a lot of the rougher looking establishments.

This particular bar was
one of Uncle Al’s latest investments and he had given me spare keys. I parked
around the block and walked to the bar. Just the cars parked along the street
indicated the change in demographics; a combination of shiny late model sedans
and SUVs mixed in with rust buckets being held together by Bondo and duct tape.
The detectives emerged from an unmarked police car and crossed the street to
meet me. A car door shut and I looked down the block to see Grant stepping onto
the sidewalk. He locked his Lexus and walked towards us. After a quick scan of
the neighborhood, which was empty since most people were at work and schools
were still in session, we ducked inside.

Sawdust danced in the
weak sunlight spilling in through a wall made of thick frosted glass squares.
The smell of fresh milled wood tickled my nose and caused Detective Burnett to
sneeze. An unfinished bar served as a temporary workstation; a repository for
cans of varnish, paint, miscellaneous tools and a small radio with a dented in
speaker. A pallet of tiles was against the opposite wall. I kicked a dust
covered Shop Vac out of the way and walked over to the bar.

           
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” I said and the
detectives placed their guns on the counter and extended their arms out.
Granted patted them down then checked them for any listening devices.
Satisfied, he placed his weapon on the counter and came to stand by me. “Let’s
hear your terms.”

           
“Listen,” Detective Burnett started, smoothing what few
stray hairs he had left on his freckle covered scalp. “You guys have been busy
and the higher the body count, the more difficult it is for us to look the
other way.”

           
“Yeah,” Detective Kaminski said, crossing his arms over
his barrel chest. “We got performance evaluations coming up and it looks bad if
evidence keeps getting misplaced or witnesses recant on their statements.”

The Police Chief had
assigned Kaminski and Burnett to the Italian dominant precinct in South Philly
with hopes that without any ties to the family, they’d stay honest. Uncle Marco
had them on the payroll within a month of their start date and that was over
three years ago. The amount of shit they covered up had more than paid for
their monthly stipend, which was currently a thousand per month each.

           
“Will $500 more a month be sufficient?”

           
“Split between us or each?” Burnett asked.

           
“Each. I won’t lowball you guys – you’ve been good to
us.”

Kaminski and Burnett
went over by the pallet of tiles to have a little meeting. It didn’t take them
long to make a decision. A shake of hands confirmed the new terms, weapons were
returned and the two detectives left. Grant and I stayed behind.

           
“These negotiations are a pain in the ass,” I said and
leaned against the counter. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

           
“You know I got your back.”

 
Dante had to deal with a broken cooler at
Butter that had flooded part of the kitchen, so he had to bail on me at the
last minute.

           
“It has been non-stop though. Everyone wants more.
They’re like little parasites.”

           
“Necessary parasites, unfortunately.”

           
“Yeah, I know. I’m just tired, man.” Not only was I busy
putting out fires and attending meetings like this at all hours of the day, but
I’d never adjusted to sleeping without Natalie. Most nights were spent in a
restless state of semi-consciousness. Whenever I rolled over and hit the cold
cotton sheets on Natalie’s side of the bed, I would wake. In the short time we
lived together she had become my anchor; she was the soft and gentle balance to
my violent world. All these stupid issues that kept popping up prevented me
from flying to California and I could feel her slipping away. “Have you talked
to your sister lately?” I asked.

           
“Yeah, actually, we spoke just a few days ago. She’s
still able to come out for the wedding.”

           
“Really?” I stood up and smiled at Grant. “That’s
freakin’ great!” She’d be home in less than two months.

           
“I take it she hasn’t called you?”

           
“No, not in a while. We text occasionally though.”

Grant groaned when I
said this and rubbed the back of his neck. “Fuck. Dom, I hate to be the one to
tell you this, but Natalie is dating Jason.”

           
“Are you serious?” I hated that my voice cracked when I
asked this, revealing a glimpse of the panic and hurt I was trying to suppress.

           
“Yeah, it’s a new thing – maybe a couple weeks? Sorry
bro, but I thought you needed to know.”

           
“Fuck!” I picked up a hammer from the bar and chucked it
across the room. It became lodged in a section of drywall, the handle sticking
out an odd angle.

Grant’s phone rang and
he left me alone with my rage to take the call. Moments later he returned and
his lips were in a straight line.

           
“What now?” I asked.

           
“Danny’s shorted us money again. He’s back on the smack.
Want me to send someone to take care of it?”

           
“No. I’ll kill him myself.” This was just the distraction
I needed. I tossed Grant the keys to the bar. “You lock up; I’m going to go
find his junkie ass.”

I drove around the city
for hours, visiting all of the usual haunts looking for Danny. Afternoon faded
to evening and as the night wore on, Danny remained elusive. I left Natalie a
voicemail and sent her a few text messages, but she never responded. Feeling
hurt, pissed off and frustrated, I decided to stop at Crimson for a drink. It
had been a few weeks since I quit working there and thought it would be better
to be around my people than going back to an empty condo.

Anthony “The Giant” was
working the door and I jumped the line. We bumped fists before he waved me
through. Of course I bypassed the metal detectors. The music grew louder as I
approached; pulsating bass causing the floor and walls to vibrate. I pushed
through the crowd. I didn’t feel the need to have security do that for me, nor
did I travel with an entourage and hold court in the VIP section like Uncle
Marco.

Richie was behind the
bar and I found an empty stool near the cash register.

           
“Dom, what’s up?” Richie greeted me with smile as he made
a few mixed drinks. “I miss having you working back here with me, man. How’s
life on the other side?” He had to shout over the music to be heard.

           
“It’s a lot of work. Some days I’d rather be tending
bar.”

Richie set a pint of
Yuengling down in front of me along with a shot of Jack Daniels. I picked the
shot glass up and raised it, dipping my head in a silent salute before draining
every last drop of whiskey. Richie made sure my pint glass stayed full. I
watched women in tight dresses, tight jeans, tight everything come up to the
bar and place orders. One woman pressed herself up next to me and leaned over
the bar to get Richie’s attention, her cleavage practically spilling out into
the tip jar. Her skirt was riding up, almost revealing her ass. At one point
she shifted, and I caught a glimpse of pale pink lace.

           
“What are you drinking?” I asked and she turned to look
at me. Her blue eyes widened then proceeded to scan me up and down. She smiled
and moved closer so she was standing between my legs, flipping her brown hair
over her shoulder. The woman’s make-up was a little on the heavy side so it was
hard to tell how old she was, but she was reasonably attractive. Her hip
brushed against my inner thigh and I started to get a hard-on from the contact.

           
“Rum and coke, but the bartender is so busy.”

           
“I got this.” I waved at Richie and he hustled right
over.

With fresh drinks in
hand, I turned my attention back to the woman. “Hi, I’m Dom.”

           
“Lilly,” she said before sucking on her straw, looking at
my lips the entire time. She bumped against my thigh again and paused, glancing
down at the bulge in my pants. Christ, I had been living like a monk, holding
out for Natalie and now I was about ready to cum in my pants like a hormonally
charged middle-schooler. Lilly moved in closer and placed a hand on my thigh,
dangerously close to my dick.

           
“Come here,” I said, reaching up and grabbing a handful
of hair at the back of her neck, bringing her lips to mine. Her mouth was
sickly sweet from the rum and coke with a distinctive hint of cigarettes, but
the longer we kissed, the less I noticed.

We left Crimson soon
after that. I ignored Miranda’s curious stare when we walked past her on the
way to the exit. We slid into a waiting cab and got busy groping each other on
the short ride to my condo. Lilly’s boobs were fake and had lost their natural
softness, but I was so hard up it didn’t matter. Aside from jacking off
occasionally, I hadn’t had a release since California.

The last shots of
whiskey kicked in and I wasn’t feeling much of anything by the time we stumbled
through my front door. We hit the bedroom and Lilly rode me like a rodeo
champion; it was a fucking miracle I lasted longer than eight seconds. The room
was spinning and I closed my eyes, slipping into an alcohol-induced sleep.

At some point during
the morning, I gravitated towards a warm body in my bed, convinced it was
Natalie. I curled up behind her, wrapping my arm around a slim waist, tucking
her up against me. I nuzzled into her neck, but instead of Natalie’s soft
strands, the hair I was nestled in was coarse and reeked of hairspray and
cigarette smoke. I opened my eyes to reality, practically pushing Lilly out of
bed in my hurry to break contact. She had a faded tramp stamp on her lower
back, some generic combination of hearts and roses.