Endings & Beginnings (New Mafia Trilogy #3) (16 page)

I couldn’t stay in that room for long, even with
Natalie sitting on my lap. Grant needed to come out of this with some new scars
and a lease on life, but not brain damaged. The man I chose as one of my Capos,
who aided me in taking out Marco, would not tolerate being altered that way. As
Dante and I were leaving the room, I spotted Miranda walking toward us.

   “Dom!” She cried out and gave me a hug, kissing
my cheek before moving on to Dante.

   “Rand, how are you – how’s the baby?”

   “Oh, the bambino has chilled out,” she said while
rubbing her belly. “I feel good, much better than yesterday. How’s Grant?”

   “He’s doing better than yesterday too,
apparently. Nat’s in there. You go see him; we’ll wait for you out here and
will fill you in on what’s been going on.”

   “Okay.” She slipped inside Grant’s room, the door
whispering shut behind her.

Dante and I walked to the waiting room where we sat
in an unoccupied corner with Uncle Al. A few people stared and pointed at me,
talking low amongst themselves. A slight, balding man with glasses approached.

   “Are you Dominic Grabano?” he asked.

   “Who wants to know?” I answered cautiously.

   “I’m Stan Lowenstein.” The man held his hand out
and I shook it. “You saved my daughter’s life. Thank you.” Stan’s eyes misted
over and he choked out a sob.

Uncomfortable with the display of emotion and not
used to saving lives, I didn’t know how to respond. Dante wasn’t much help
either; I glanced over at him and he shrugged. The man cleared his throat and
breathed in deeply through his nose, getting control of his emotions. “Sorry
about that,” he said.

   “No need to apologize, man. We’ve all been through
an ordeal. Your daughter, is she on this floor?”

   “Yes. We were at the mall shopping for a prom
dress,” Stan paused. “I’m a single dad,” he explained. “And she was shot
leaving the bathroom. I almost lost her, but she’s going to be okay. I’m so
glad you stopped that monster.”

   “He needed to be stopped,” I said.

   “Yes he did. Who knows how many more people he
would have hurt or killed?”

We were both quiet for a few seconds, contemplating
the worst case scenario. Stepping forward, I put my hand on Stan’s shoulder.
“Mr. Lowenstein, I’m glad your daughter’s going to be okay.”

He thanked me again before shuffling off down the
hall. I turned to Dante and he was grinning.

   “What?” I asked.

   “I was thinking we need to milk the hero angle
this will make people doubt any less desirable news that may surface.”

I got tired just thinking about it and didn’t have
time to be fucking around with the media. Grant was sidelined, we had a big
shipment of heroin coming in and I had a feeling Agent Phillips and his FBI
buddies were going to be up my ass, complicating operations. Plus, there was
Natalie.

   “Bro, public opinion is the least of my worries.”

   “Leave it to me, Dom you won’t have to do shit.
It’s all marketing,” he said this with a wink.

Dante did marketing well and as long as I didn’t
have to do anything, I willingly agreed to let him be the spin doctor.

Miranda came out of Grant’s room several shades
paler than when she went in. She leaned against the wall with her head tilted back
and an arm cradling her stomach. We walked over to her and as I got closer, saw
the tears trailing down the side of her face.

   “Hey, are you okay?” I asked and she nodded, but
her tears told another story. “Come here, Rand.” Tugging on her other arm, I
pulled her against me and wrapped her up in a hug. Muffled sobs were absorbed
by my t-shirt as she purged all of the fear and anxiety from the past 24-hours.
Miranda was tough as nails, but everyone had their breaking point. She and
Grant were supposed to be packing for their honeymoon not visiting the “in
sickness and health” part of their vows just days after getting married.

I released her into Dante’s arms and he held her
tight as she cried some more. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that his suit
was getting covered in snot and tears. After a few minutes her sobs tapered off
and she stepped away, rubbing her eyes. We walked down to the end of the
corridor to a window that looked out over part of the parking lot. There were
two patient rooms on this end, but they were empty and that meant we had some
privacy.

   “We need to talk about business. Grant won’t be
operational for a while and Miranda I know you’re going to be by his side
helping him recover, as you should, I don’t expect anything less. That being
said, Dante and I can’t do it all. I propose we bring Joey D. and Uncle Al in
temporarily to help cover. What do you guys think?”

   “Sounds good. Dad’s been helping out a lot
already and Joey D. knows what’s up,” Dante said and Miranda agreed.

   “Alright, good. Dante you go talk to your dad right
now since he’s here and I’ll talk to Joey D.  Miranda, is there anyone who can
fill in for him at Crimson?”

   “Yeah, Anthony will be good. He’s covered for
Joey D. in the past.”

Anthony “The Giant” Fassulo was one of our enforcers
who had worked up through the ranks like Joey D. and never started any drama. “Great.
Let Joey know what’s going on and have him call me. It’s important we let our
business partners know that nothing has changed and that we’re solid. We also
need to be careful since the Feds are going to be watching.”

We wrapped up our meeting and walked back towards
Grant’s room. Dante broke off to talk to his dad while Miranda and l went
inside where she immediately went to be by her husband’s side. Natalie vacated
her seat and gave Miranda a hug before coming over.

   “Hey, can I talk to you?” I asked in a low voice,
not wanting to disturb the peaceful sanctity of the hospital room.

   “Yeah, sure,” she turned to leave and I walked
next to her, keeping my hand on the small of her back; not to guide her or act
possessive, but just as an excuse to touch her.

Once out of Grant’s room, we walked back down to the
end of the hall. “What’s up?” Natalie asked, stepping away and turning to face
me with her arms crossed over her chest.

   “I just wanted you to know that Grant will be
taken care of – whatever he needs for his recovery will be covered. I don’t
want you to worry once you’re back in California.”

Natalie uncrossed her arms and sat down on the
window sill. Sun spilled in behind her, bathing her in a soft glow. “Thanks
Dom, that means a lot, but I’m not going back to L.A. right away.”

   “You’re not?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s my turn to help Grant
after all of the times he has helped me.”

   “What about your job and your apartment?”

   “I’m a waitress at a bar. It’s not like I’m
leaving a career behind. If I lose my apartment, so be it.” She looked up at me
and I saw the firm set of her jaw. “I’m needed here, Dom. My brother needs me.
Nothing else matters.”

   “I’m not going to try to change your mind. I want
you to stay, but I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”

   “Yeah, me too,” she answered.

   “Where are you planning on staying? You can stay
with me, you know.”

   “Dom, I don’t think –“

I cut her off. “No pressure, Nat. You can stay in
the guest room if that makes you more comfortable.” At least she’d be under my
roof and my protection. Plus, that would limit Special Agent Phillip’s and his
colleagues’ access.

   “I’ll think about it.”

   “Good. I’m glad you’re staying Nat. You let me
know if you need anything. Anything. Okay?”

She stood up and stepped away from the window,
moving closer to me. “Thanks, Dom.” Before I knew it, her arms were wrapped
around my waist and her face pressed against my chest as she hugged me tight.
“Thanks for taking that guy out before he could hurt anyone else.” I felt her
body trembling and pulled her close, turning us so she was between me and the
window, away from curious eyes. We stayed like that for a few minutes before
she stopped shaking. She slowly pulled away, tucking her long bangs behind her
ear.

   “I need to go take care of some business. Are you
going to be okay?” I asked.

   “Yeah, I’ll be fine and will be here until
visiting hours are over. If there’s any change with Grant, I’ll call you.”

   “Okay, good. He’s a tough bastard and will pull
through.”

Natalie laughed at that and agreed. I walked her
back to Grant’s room and gave her one more hug before I left. Dante and Al were
in the waiting room and got up to meet me when they saw me in the doorway. I
noticed the magazine Al set down was Sports Illustrated this time, not People.

   “Come on, let’s go make some calls,” I said. We
went back down through the service elevator and left undetected through the
back of the hospital. I thought the media attention on the shooting and
interest in me would die down after a few days but, unfortunately, I assumed
wrong.

When I got back to my condo building, Felicia at the
concierge desk flagged me down.

   “Mr. Grabano, these are for you,” she handed me a
stack of message slips. “They keep calling and I tell them that I’m not your
answering service.”

Glancing through the messages I see they’re from
reporters and media. Even people from CNN had called looking to schedule an
interview. I had been receiving similar messages at the Grabano Enterprises
office, which handled legitimate business transactions and my dad had been
fielding other requests at Grabano and Sons. I’m glad Dante volunteered to
handle this shit as I didn’t have the time. Shoving the messages in my jeans
pocket, I turned towards the elevators only to see Special Agent Phillips and
his minion coming in through the front doors.

I crossed my arms and watched them through narrowed
eyes as they made their approach. Any pretense of shaking hands was forgotten.
I guess once you’ve shared space in an interrogation room, formalities were no
longer needed.

   “Mr. Grabano how is it that any evidence
regarding the case of your uncle is missing or the chain of evidence has been
tainted, making it useless?”

   “I don’t know and why are you asking me, it’s not
my job to keep track of that shit. Did you check with the PD?” Ask a stupid
question and expect a smartass response. That’s how I was raised.

   “They can’t account for the errors or oversight.”

   “Yeah, well, guess that’s our tax dollars at
work.”

   “It’s very convenient for you, though, isn’t it?”
Phillips asked, crossing his arms to mimic my stance.

   “Are you serious? This is my uncle’s murder we’re
talking about. I want his killer found just as much as you do.”

   “I’m sure you do,” he replied with a smirk that
made me want to grab him by his blue neck tie and choke the fucker. Instead I
relaxed my stance and smiled back. Felicia was watching our conversation with
interest as was the doorman who had moved inside. Phillips’ suspicions that I
killed Uncle Marco were right on, but he didn’t have a case if he didn’t have
evidence. Thank fucking god our payouts to the local PD had paid off.

            “Some of the evidence in the homicide
investigations of Anthony Russo and Anthony Costi was also tampered with, but
not all. I think you’ll be hearing from me real soon and you’ll want to have
your attorney present.”

The deaths of the Lil Tone and Big Tone had been
impulsive and sloppy. We didn’t call in any cleaners after and did it
ourselves. If any of the remaining evidence linked the crime scenes to me, I
was fucked. With a big smile, Special Agent Phillips turned and walked away,
his minion following him out the door. I stared after them with an unfamiliar
sensation churning in my guts; fear.

As soon as I was in my condo, I grabbed one of the
burner phones and called Dante.

   “This needs to go away. I want to know as much as
possible about Phillips. I want to know his dirty little secrets and his
weaknesses. Where does he live and does he have family nearby? Get someone on
it asap.”  

   “I’m on it,” he said and hung up.

Tossing the phone onto the marble countertop, I
grabbed a beer out of the fridge and drained half the bottle before taking a
breather. Special Agent Phillips had been just a nuisance before, but now he
was becoming a real problem and posed a threat to my family and business. My
knee jerk reaction was to just kill him, but this time I checked my
impulsiveness. Whatever direction I decided to move in, it needed to be well
thought out, but it needed to happen fast.

Natalie

Between my mom, Miranda, and me, we kept a constant
vigil at Grant’s bedside. I found a reassurance in watching the rise and fall
of his chest. After seeing him stop breathing and his heart stop beating more
than once, I never wanted to witness that again.

There was a constant rotation of nurses and doctors
checking on Grant’s progress, which he was making. After three days he was
transferred out of the critical care unit to a regular floor. When we found out
he was going to be sharing a room with an older man recovering from hemorrhoid
surgery, Miranda placed a call to Dominic and less than an hour later Grant had
his own room at the end of the hall away from the nurse’s station and high
traffic area. He remained unconscious through his relocation, but he was
breathing unaided and displaying signs of swimming towards the surface of
consciousness. Each flutter of his eyelids and incoherent mumble were signs
that he was coming around. It was a good thing too because even though it had
only been a few days, Grant had lost weight and it was hard seeing him physically
shrink, his body receding beneath a tangle of IV lines.

On the fifth day after the shooting, Grant woke up.
I was back at the hotel room taking a shower after a long, much needed run when
my mom burst into the bathroom.

   “Natalie, he’s awake! Hurry we need to go!” She
yelled this last part as she rushed out of the room to go get ready. After
quickly rinsing out conditioner from my hair and washing off the rest of the
body wash, I dried off and threw on a sundress and flip flops.

Al was out front waiting for us, his tinted out all
black Mercedes sedan looking conspicuous. Mom and I sat in the backseat
together and she had my hand in a death grip. We barely said a word to each
other on the drive over to New Jersey. Was Grant going to be okay or was he
going to have brain damage? This was a question his team of doctors hadn’t been
able to answer. They needed to wait for him to regain consciousness in order to
make that determination and run more tests. There were always so many tests.

When the elevator opened onto Grant’s floor, I could
hear the excited voices filling the hallway before I stepped out to see the
Grabanos were out in force. Joey D. and Dominic blocked the door to my
brother’s room and Dominic smiled when he saw me, his dimples on full display,
but not distracting enough for me to not notice the exhaustion stamped on his
face. The area under his green eyes looked bruised and his hair stuck out in
all directions from his habit of running his hands through it. These past few
days hadn’t been easy on any of us.

   “Miranda’s already inside,” he said and opened
the door for us. He followed behind, telling Joey D. to keep everyone else out.

Grant turned his head towards us. “Mom, Nat,” he
said in a raspy voice and I started bawling. He recognized us! He was talking! We
rushed to his bedside where Miranda sat perched, her hand in his. Dominic stood
behind me and I leaned back against him.

My mom sat down on the side of the bed opposite of
Miranda and began smoothing Grant’s hair back from his forehead, pressing the
greasy strands down like she had for the past five days. I think she found
comfort in the repetitive movement and it was a safe area for her to touch. She
did it so much though, that I was surprised he hadn’t started to go bald.

   “Grant, do you need anything?” she asked.

   “I’m okay, mom, just tired and a little sore.”
Grant shifted and winced with the movement, favoring his right side where a
bullet had been removed and where a drain for his lung had been inserted. “Dom
filled me in on what happened. I remember getting shot and covering Miranda,
but that’s it. All I could think about was protecting her and the baby, ya
know?”

   “You’ve always been so brave, Grant,” my mom
cooed and fussed with his pillows. “I honestly don’t know what the world’s
coming to. It seems like there’s a shooting every day. I’m glad Dominic was
able to stop that man. I don’t even want to know why you had a gun on you.” She
turned and gave Dom a hard look. “But I’m glad you did.”

    “Just for protection, the city is a dangerous
place,” he replied. She nodded in agreement and focused her attention back on
Grant.

   “You rest, honey, and let me know if you need anything,
okay?”

   “Yeah Mom, thanks,” Grant said with a yawn. His
eyelids were at half-mast; all signs telling us our visit had come to an end.
He was out before we left the room, falling asleep mid-sentence with his mouth
hanging open.  

Dr. Hyashi was at the nurse’s station when we walked
past. Unlike the nurse who wore scrubs, he was wearing khakis and a blue polo
underneath his white lab coat. He held a tablet in his hands and I caught a
glimpse of someone’s X-rays on the screen before he shut it off when my mom
stopped to talk to him.

   “Is my son going to be okay?”

   “Grant Ross, correct?” he asked, stepping away
from the confines of the nurse’s station.

   “Yes.”

   “He’s going to be okay. Now that he’s awake I can
tell he hasn’t suffered any brain damage and he hasn’t had any setbacks like
infection or tearing of his internal sutures. He’s young and in excellent
health so I expect him to make a full recovery.”

   “Oh thank God,” my mom said and I let out a deep
sigh, not realizing until that moment how much I’d kept bottled up inside.
Dominic’s hand captured mine and he gave it a squeeze. I smiled up at him,
seeing relief in his expression too.

   “When can he go home?” I asked.

   “I’d like to keep him for observation for at
least 24-hours. If he continues to improve, I’ll discharge him. Most patients
heal better in their home environment anyway.”

   “What kind of care will he need? I’m able to
help.”

   “Good. From what I understand Grant’s wife needs
to be taking it easy too. He won’t need around the clock care, but will be on
light duty as he heals and regains his strength. I’d say he’ll be on restricted
activity for two weeks. His body has experienced a significant amount of trauma
and he won’t recover overnight.”

   “Natalie, are you sure? Aren’t you going back to
California?” my mom asked.

   “Not right now. I already worked it out with
Miranda and she said I can stay in their guest room. This way I can help out
around the house.”

   “Well, I have to do my rounds. Here’s my card,
call me if you have any more questions.” Dr. Hyashi shook our hands and I
noticed how warm and dry his was. He gave both my mom and I a business card.
There wasn’t anything pretentious about it, just standard white card stock with
the hospital’s logo and his contact information in black lettering.

We were so absorbed with Grant’s awakening and
talking to the doctor, I forgot about the rest of the Grabanos who were
crowding the waiting room anxiously awaiting news. Since basically half of
South Philly was crammed in there, cousins of all ages sat on the floor in the
hallway. As soon as Dr. Hyashi left, we were descended upon by a swarm of
familiar faces: Dom’s Nona, Aunt Gloria, Uncle Franco, Bianca, Dante, Johnny,
Paulie, Angela and some other relatives I met at the wedding. Joey D. had been
relieved from guarding Grant’s door and he joined us, pulling me into a
crushing hug and kissing my cheek. I was surprised when he hugged my mom too.

   “Good news today, huh kid?” he asked.

   “Yeah, really good,” I smiled up at him, feeling
lighter than I had in days.

   “I was worried,” he paused and scratched the
stubble on his chin, breaking eye contact to glance down at his boots. I didn’t
know Joey very well, but did know he wasn’t one to talk a lot. “We’ve worked
together for a while and he’s like a fuckin’ brother to me. I’m glad he’s gonna
be alright.”

Grant and Joey had been friends for several years. I
remembered when Chelsea and I were at a bar our freshman year in college and
our wallets were stolen. Grant came to our rescue with Joey D. in tow. When
they showed up, a couple of guys who had been bothering us tried to start
something. Grant and Joey ended the altercation before it even had a chance to
begin with Joey tossing one of the assholes like he was a piece of trash. I
think he said maybe two words that night and we didn’t even get his name, not
until I asked Grant a few days later.

   “Me too,” I agreed. Suddenly there was a change
in the crowd and I turned to see what was happening and gasped. Grant was
walking with Miranda by his side. He pushed his IV stand along in front of him
as he slowly moved toward us. His body trembled with exertion and a light layer
of sweat glistened on his forehead.

   “Grant, should you be up moving around?” My mom
cried out, rushing to his side once again displaying emotions I wasn’t used to
seeing.

   “Yeah, the doc suggested I ease into it.”

Looking around at everyone who had gathered to rally
for Grant, I realized he had become a part of their family. I noticed how
Paulina, Gloria and Angela hovered around my mom, offering words of
encouragement and support. We were being absorbed into the fold too. Dominic
stayed by my side talking to Uncle Al and every once in a while I felt him
tense up as their conversation devolved into serious hushed whispers. I tried
to listen in, wanting to make sure everything was okay, but the chatter filling
the halls made it difficult to hear.

Dominic’s phone rang and he answered it, stepping
away with his hand covering his ear. The call lasted less than twenty seconds
and I could tell by the set of his jaw that it wasn’t a good conversation.

   “What is it?” Uncle Al asked.

   “I gotta go take care of some shit.” He turned
and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later?”

   “Yeah, I’ll be here until visiting hours are over
and they have to kick me out.”

Dominic and Al chuckled at my declaration and left.
I could see Grant was leaning on his IV stand more than usual and crossed the
room to assist. It took the combined efforts of me, Miranda and my mom to
extricate him from everyone in order to usher him back to bed, where he
immediately fell asleep.

   “I’m going to go get a coffee. Do you girls want
anything?” my mom asked. Miranda shook her head no and I asked for a diet Coke.
As soon as she left, Miranda leaned back in her chair, her hand loosely
entwined with Grant’s while her other hand rested across her stomach. She closed
her eyes and let out a deep sigh.

   “Are you doing okay?” I asked.

She opened her eyes and looked over at me. The room
was fairly dark with the overhead lights off and only one window for sunlight so
the shadows exaggerated the exhaustion on her face.

   “Yeah, just ready to have Grant back home and I
love my family, but they’re driving me a little crazy right now,” she said with
a laugh.

   “I don’t think the hospital staff knows what to
with them all.”

   “Are you still okay with me moving in to help
take care of Grant?”

   “Yes, of course! You can move your stuff in now
if you want?”

   “I will this weekend. My mom can’t take any more
time from work and has to go back. We’ll check out of the hotel then.”

   “Maybe Grant will be even stronger tomorrow,” she
said, the hopeful tone in her voice hard to miss as she looked down on his
sleeping form. His chest rose and fell steadily, his breathing unencumbered
since the chest tube had been removed.

   “That would be amazing.” Once Grant was
discharged, I never wanted to see the inside of a hospital for a very long
time.