Endings & Beginnings (New Mafia Trilogy #3) (14 page)

   “That won’t be necessary, thank you Dr. Wilson.”

   “You’re welcome Miranda and I’ll see if I can get
an update on your husband.” Dr. Wilson acknowledged all of us before leaving.

   “Is everything okay with the baby?” I asked and
Miranda smiled, but her eyes were still haunted with worry. She wasn’t there in
the ambulance when his heart stopped and I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell
her about it now.

   “They’re not admitting me. Apparently the stress
triggered some Braxton Hicks contractions and I’m experiencing pain from my
ligaments stretching. I just need to take it easy.”

   “Well that’s a relief!” I smiled down at her and
squeezed her hand. I went to pull away, but Miranda wouldn’t let me go.

   “Please stay, Nat,” she said and one of the
toughest women I knew started to cry again. Paulina took up residence on the
other side of the hospital bed and smoothed her daughter’s hair. Al excused
himself to make some phone calls and I stayed there, holding Miranda’s hand
until her tears tapered off and she fell asleep. I tucked the coarse blanket up
around her chin, careful not to bump her IV drip of saline.

   “The shock and stress is making her shut down,”
Paulina whispered.

   “Sleep is what’s best for her and the baby right
now.”

            “Yes, it is. How are you holding up?”
Paulina asked.  She looked over at me, her eye make-up, which she always wore a
lot of, was smudged and the tear stains on her cheeks were tinted with mascara.
Not quite Halloween mask, but close.

   “I’m trying to keep it together. It’s the not
knowing that’s driving me crazy. I hope Grant is okay.”

   “Me too, honey. He’s a fighter though and has a
lot to live for. Does your mom know?”

I nodded, “She’s on her way.”

It was an excruciating wait and we sat in silence
until Al came to get Paulina. “A bunch of the family just showed up. Do you
want to see them?”

   “Not just yet, I don’t want to leave Miranda.”

I needed to go to the bathroom and take a break.
What I really wanted to do was run and unload my mind. It was when I was
washing my hands that I noticed the blood caked around my nails and in the
creases of my knuckles. The front of my shirt was covered and specks dotted my
neck. It had dried to a rusty brown. Scrubbing with paper towels and
antibacterial soap, I managed to clean up most of it, except for my shirt.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I made my way to the
waiting room. I heard Miranda’s family before the emergency room door even
opened and when they did, I knew why they were so loud. At least thirty family
members spilled out of the waiting area: uncles, aunts, cousins and even Joey
D. was there with his sister Cici.

   “Natalie!” The family moved forward in a swarm,
crowding around me.

   “Oh honey, I came as soon as I heard,” Aunt
Gloria said and pulled me into her arms for a hug.

Questions were being fired at me about what happened
and I felt like I repeated the story five hundred times. I glanced over at the
television on the wall, hoping to catch an update on Dominic, but the news had
started its usual over-analysis bouncing between debates on gun reform to the
string of shootings plaguing our country then an image of Marco flashed up on the
screen, making me flinch. It didn’t take long for the news to pick up on the
organized crime angle.

Then a nurse was talking to a doctor and pointing in
my direction. The doctor started walking towards me, looking all serious and
professional, and everything around me slowed.

   “Are you Natalie Ross?” he asked.

   “Yes,” I replied; my voice not much louder than a
whisper. The doctor looked at the crowd gathering around me, like he was the
ref and I was the coach questioning a call with my entire team at my back.
“It’s okay, they’re family. Do you have an update on my brother?”

   “I do. I’m Dr. Hyashi.” He held out his hand and
I shook it. He had a firm grip and his skin was warm and dry. “He’s out of
surgery and in the CCU.”

            “CCU?”

            “The Critical Care Unit as he’s still in
critical condition.”

I gasped and held a hand over my heart that was
beating hard against my chest. “What does that mean?”

   “Your brother was shot three times and one of the
bullets was lodged next to his spine. One other nicked an artery near his heart
and he had massive internal bleeding so we had to put him in a medically
induced coma.”

At this point my knees became spongy and Al put a
reassuring arm around my waist, helping me to stay on my feet. “A coma? That
can’t be good.”

   “It’s actually to protect him. We had a thoracic
surgeon remove the bullet from his back, but there’s a lot of swelling around
the T7 and T8 vertebrae. I stitched the damage to his artery, but the sutures
are delicate. The less he moves around, the faster his body can heal.  Also, he
suffered another cardiac arrest on the table and it took almost three minutes
to resuscitate him. I won’t know if suffered any permanent damage, especially
since that was the third time he coded today.”

I took a deep breath, processing the severity of
Grant’s condition. “Is he going to be okay?”

   “I can’t make any guarantees, but if he hasn’t
suffered any focal damage and we stay the course with his treatment, your
brother could make a full recovery.”

   “Oh thank God,” Gloria said and squeezed my hand.

The tightness around my chest loosened up and I
exhaled deeply with relief. Grant was going to fight his way back, this I knew.
He was probably pissed off in his comatose state. “I need to tell Miranda.” I
started to walk away, but stopped. “Can I see Grant first?” I asked Dr. Hyashi.
Despite his professional demeanor, he had kind eyes, like his dark irises were
soaked in compassion. He smiled at me.

   “Yes, briefly though and only immediate family,”
he addressed the crowd without flinching.

   “Natalie, go see Grant, Cici and I will tell
Miranda,” Aunt Gloria said, getting Miranda’s best friend’s attention and
ushering her toward the automated emergency room doors.

I followed Dr. Hyashi to the elevators and Uncle Al
walked beside me and stayed by side until we approached Grant’s room. He hung
back while I continued on with the doctor, who had me put on a surgical mask first
and rub my hands and upper arms down with antibacterial gel.

We stepped inside the dimly lit room and I wasn’t
prepared to see Grant lying so still. He had more tubes sticking out of him
than a character in a sci fi movie. Some machines beeped while another made a
whoosh and hush sound. Other than those noises, the room was quiet.

I hung back, apprehensive about getting closer,
unsure whether it was safe or not. “Go ahead. It’s okay to touch him. I’ll give
you a few minutes.” Dr. Hyashi left, the door closing with a click, leaving me
alone with Grant.

Crossing the room to his bed, I reached for his
hand, which was still warm and vital. It was surreal looking down at my brother
as I was used to him being so strong, not vulnerable like this. A breathing
tube covered most of his face making him look more machine than human. His
hospital gown wasn’t secured, just draped over his body revealing a stark white
bandage taped to his chest. Pulling the gown down, I discovered that in
addition to the bandage over his heart, there was another one near his abdomen.
I noticed the areas where his chest was shaved. The lines weren’t neat;
indicative of the hurry they were in to treat his wounds. His skin had a
jaundiced tint from iodine or whatever they had used to disinfect. A tube was
inserted into his left side, by his ribs, allowing bloody liquid to drain.

Grant’s breathing was slow and deep aided by the intubation.
“Hang in there,” I said, squeezing his hand not knowing if he could hear me,
but hoping the words sank in anyway. “Miranda and the baby are going to be
okay. You protected her, Grant, now you need to get out of here so you can keep
on protecting her.”

I heard the door open and close behind me. Looking
over my shoulder, expecting to see Dr. Hyashi, I was surprised to see my mom.
She didn’t hesitate like I did, but rushed right over to stand next to me. Her
eyes were red and her damp eyelashes were clumped together with tears. She
hugged me and I moved aside so she could take Grant’s hand.

   “Oh Grant, you were always a brave, fearless
boy,” my mom said. Her voice cracked; roughened by emotion. She smoothed his
hair back with her other hand and adjusted his blankets so he was fully covered.
“You always take on so much without it being asked of you.”

My mom slipped her hand into mine and tugged me
closer. For the first time in a long time we were all linked together. It was a
shame that it took a tragedy to do it. I vowed then to stay by Grant and help
him recover. He had cleaned my bullet wound, changed the bandages and suffered
through helping me bathe. Now it was my turn.

DOMINIC

A uniformed police officer led me to a small,
windowless room where I sat down on one of two chairs available around a square
table. He left me in there and shut the door, which had a narrow window at the
top. A fluorescent light above the table buzzed and flickered. I had been
stripped of my personal belongings so had no idea what time it is was or how
much time had passed. I hoped Grant was okay. He sure as hell wasn’t doing well
before I got cuffed and escorted away. The stricken look on Natalie’s face as I
left made me feel so helpless and I feared that this event would send her
running to California again, just as we were beginning to find our way back to
each other.

I wanted to punch the table, throw chairs and rip
the door from its hinges to let off my frustration, but the little camera in
the corner with its red eye trained in my direction, forced me to remain calm.
It was bad enough they had legitimate charges on me; trashing police property
wasn’t going to win me any points with the judge.

Minutes, possibly hours, crawled by as I sat in that
small room alone with my thoughts. When I heard the door open it was with
relief and I welcomed whoever was going to walk through it - I needed to get
out of my head. That was until Agent Phillips stepped into the room and sat
down across from me, dramatically placing a manila folder on the table. Fuck, I
so didn’t want to deal with him.

He smiled and extended his hand out for me to shake
it. “We met briefly after your Uncle’s murder, Special Agent Doug Phillips,
FBI.” I ignored his hand, choosing to stare him down instead.

   “I remember.”

Agent Phillips flipped the folder open and began
humming as he shuffled through several pages. Curious, I peered over and saw
pictures of numerous crime scenes. I recognized Uncle Marco’s, and the Two
Tonys. Their corpses looked different on the pictures, less graphic. Once
again, I forced myself to remain calm.

   “What are you doing here, Phillips?”

   “Did you know I recently accepted a new position
with the FBI?”

   “No and I really don’t care,” I said, leaning
back in the chair and folding my arms across my check, giving the Fed a hard
stare.

Agent Phillips looked up from the file. He smirked
and leaned back in his chair as if mimicking me. “
I’m
now in charge of the Organized Crime Task Force.”

   “Congratulations.”

   “Thank you.” He smiled, drumming his fingers on
top of the file.

   “Do you want me to throw you fucking a party?
It’s kind of hard to do that in here, but it can be arranged.”

   “No. That won’t be necessary, I’ll celebrate when
I get forensic results back.”

   “For what?”

   “For a match of your DNA left at other crime
scenes. All it takes is a hair or a partial fingerprint. Now that you’re in
custody, you’re mine.”

I put my mask on, the one where I was indifferent to
everything going on around me. There was no way that I’d give this asshole the
satisfaction of knowing he had me rattled because guaranteed I left a piece of
me behind at a crime scene. Things got messy and even when we called in a
cleaner, how thorough was he?

Agent Phillips regarded me, his smirk faded when he
didn’t get a rise out of me. I knew better than to say anything without my
attorney present. Marco always coached us on what to do if we got pinched. 

   “I might not need Natalie after all,” Phillips
said and he watched me, waiting for me to snap. Oh he was good, he knew my
weakness. I continued to feign indifference and stared blandly back at him.

At that moment the door swung open and Dante walked
in followed by my dad and our attorney who looked down his nose at the Fed.
“I’m Mr. Grabano’s council, you need to leave.”

The fucking balls on this guy! He was worth every
penny to keep him on retainer. I smiled at Agent Phillips and waved good bye
when he grabbed his folder and stalked to the door, which earned me a
disapproving look from both my dad and the lawyer.

Once the fed was gone though, I became serious
again. I needed to know when the fuck I was getting released and if there was
any validity to what Phillips claimed.

Before I could ask any questions, my dad pulled me
out of the chair and gave me a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay, son.”

   “How’s Grant?”

   “Last I heard, he’s stable, but in intensive
care.”

   “That’s good, really good. How’s Natalie holding
up?” I asked Dante.

   “She’s at the hospital. Uncle Al is keeping an
eye on her,” he answered and sat down on the edge of the table, unbuttoning his
suit jacket first. Dante was always dressed like he worked in corporate
America.

I was relieved to hear about Natalie. She was still
around, that was a good sign and would have to be enough until I got out and
saw her in person. I ran a hand through my hair and paced the length of the
small room, which didn’t provide a lot of space to work off my nervous energy.

   “Does Mom know what’s going on?” I asked my dad.

   “Yeah, the whole fucking family knows. It
wouldn’t surprise me if she and your Aunt Gloria are plotting a way to bust you
out of here,” he said with a smile, briefly breaking up the serious expression
that had taken up residence on his face.

   “That’s all we need.” I sat back down. “Okay
Seth, tell me what’s going on?” I said to my attorney. Growing up he was always
Mr. Horowitz, but now that I was in charge, we were on a first name basis.

   “The good news is I’m positive I think I can get
the unlawful possession of a firearm charge dropped.”

   “Great.”

   “Now for the bad news and that has to do with the
FBI. Agent Phillips is doing everything he can to keep you in custody. Without the
other charges, you’ll free to go. Do you know why he wants to hold you?”

   “Yeah,” I said and eyed the camera in the corner
warily. There was only so much I could say. Any conversation about murder could
be twisted and used against me as admission. At least that’s what I learned
growing up.

Seth nodded, “I do too. Do we have reason to be
worried?”

   “There’s a possibility,” I said and looked over
at my dad who was leaning over the table frowning. He was wearing a dark blue
Grabano & Sons t-shirt that was covered in sawdust and must have been on a
job site when he got the call. He had cleaned up many a crime scene in his
lifetime and knew more than anyone there was a strong likelihood that evidence
would be found linking me to one or more homicides. I was never one for God,
especially after going to Catholic School, but at that moment I prayed.