Mick Sinatra: Breaking My Heart

by Mallory Monroe

Inside the safe house, Teddy was sitting at a table leaned back in a chair: his eyes closed. He was emotionally and physically exhausted. There were numerous people in the house, all of whom had been employed by Mick. Francois Chevalier and Leslie Leclerc were the two people charged with his direct, never-let-him-out-of-their-sight protection. They were at the table with him, smoking cigarettes and playing cards. They were also taking constant peeps, and verbal shots at Teddy, while they did.

  “II est si joli, Leslie said with a smile, “je devrais le prendre dans la chambe arriere.”

  (“He is so pretty,” Leslie said with a smile, “I should take him in the backroom.”)

  Et être tué comme l'autre? Francois asked as he threw down another card.

  (“And get killed like the other one?” Francois asked as he threw down another card).

  Leslie laughed and elbowed Francois, causing him to laugh too.

  Teddy heard their laughter, and opened his eyes, but there was nothing to see there. Except two buffoons too stupid to realize he spoke French also. But he didn’t sweat it. They were people his father trusted for his protection. They, at least, were doing their job right.

  Teddy closed his eyes again and didn’t reopen them even when the front door was opened. There had been plenty of people going and coming and he figured this time was no exception. More protectors changing shifts. And he was too distraught to care. Not only had his business overseas blown up in his face, which was bad enough, but his stupid ass had to go and sleep with Mimi. And Mimi, he was later told, wasn’t just a club hook-up, but was the wife of Angelo DeCoppola, an American mobster who ran drugs from Jersey to France. Teddy knew Ang. Not only was he mob, but he was also his uncle, although nobody in the family could stand Ang. But he was kin.

  That, however, didn’t stop Teddy from staying clear of Ang’s territory because he knew how crazy that fucker could be. And he went and slept with the man’s wife? And the man’s wife ended up dead in his chateau? Those were undoubtedly Ang’s men who broke his door down and tried to take him out. And almost succeeded. Teddy ran his hands through his thick hair, piling it even higher atop his head. He didn’t care who was coming this time, or going either.

  Until Francois said Mick’s name. Teddy opened his eyes then. Francois and Leslie were standing up, welcoming Mick. Teddy turned quickly, toward the front door. When he saw his father standing at the door dressed in his signature black with white coat, his big body and mere presence filling every pocket of that room, he stood up too. And ran to his father.

  He didn’t care how it looked. He didn’t care what jokes Francois and Leslie cracked at his expense. He ran into his father’s arms. He had felt so alone in Paris. Now the person he most loved in this entire world was there. To help get him out of the mess he got himself into. All was right again.

  But Mick found Teddy’s behavior unacceptable. Some tough guy, he thought, when Teddy ran into his arms. He runs to his daddy. But he also knew that such was the nature of his adult children. When it came to him, they were as needy as his twins, and then almost as bold and bad as Mick himself. They relied on him, and were repulsed by him. But right now, for Teddy, needing his father, rather than hating on his father, was paramount. The need won out.

  Mick had warring emotions the moment he stepped into that safe house and saw his son sitting at that table. He saw the son he loved but could never verbally express that love to him. And he saw the son he worried about constantly. Probably the same way his big brother and the man who raised him, Big Daddy Charles Sinatra, used to worry about him. Because Teddy, like Mick, had a hard edge about him. And hardness often meant fearlessness. And fearlessness, if handled wrong, could get you killed. Teddy had that quality too. Mick was glad he had it. If he was going to live in this world of safe houses and bullshit, he had better have it. But he didn’t know how to handle it yet.

  That was why, when Teddy ran to him, and fell against him, Mick didn’t push him away the way his men expected him to. He, instead, wrapped him in his arms and held him tight. He couldn’t help it. Teddy was his oldest, but he was still his child.

  When they stopped embracing, neither man looked at the other one. Mick, instead, cleared the room. Francois and Leslie, along with the rest of Mick’s Paris crew, went into another room. Mick and Teddy sat down at the table. And Mick got down to business. “Did you kill her?” he asked his son.

  Teddy quickly began shaking his head. “No, sir. And I didn’t know she was Ang’s old lady either. I swear I didn’t.”

  “But you knew you were back slinging drugs,” Mick fired back, “when I told your ass to stay clear of that.”

  Teddy hesitated. It was his father’s bluntness, and that cold stare in his big, green eyes, that always cut him short. There was no excuse for it, and making excuses could only get him killed. By his father’s own hands. “It’s what I was doing before you became more active in my life. It’s what I do, Pop.” Then he caught himself. “What I used to do.”

  Mick stared at Teddy. Teddy waited for him to scold him, or hit him, or behave in some violent way towards him. But Mick just sat there with that coolness that Teddy knew did not mean calmness. In Teddy’s mind, Mick was always a raging storm.

  Since Mick wasn’t reacting, Teddy decided to have his say. “I need to be in charge, Pop. It’s just who I am. Taking orders all the time, even from you, isn’t what I’m good at. I’m good at giving orders and seeing to their implementation. I can do that in my sleep. That’s why I started back in the business. I needed to have my own thing, and it needed to be something big.”

  “Is the Sinatra Syndicate big enough for you?” Mick asked.

  Teddy didn’t understand. “Your organization? Are you kidding? Of course it’s big enough. It’s the biggest thing going. But I don’t run that. You run that. That’s your thing.”

  Mick stood up, prompting Teddy to rise too. “I’m putting you in charge.”

  Teddy was floored. “Me? You mean when you retire?”

  “I mean soon. I’m putting you in charge. You want to have your own thing? The Sinatra Crime Family is going to be your thing. I’ll still be at the helm, but you’ll be in charge.”

  Teddy wanted to smile. He could hardly believe it. He knew he was taking over when Mick retired. But already? His father was in his prime! It seemed too good to be true.

  But Mick was staring at him. “But if you fuck it up,” he said, “and if you ever put my wife or my children at risk because of your fuck up, I’m going to fuck you up. You understand the trade off?”

  Teddy felt heady, scared, and excited. Was his father for real?

  “Do you understand the trade off?” Mick had to ask him again.

  “Yes, sir,” Teddy said. “I understand. But what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Run my business. I have an international one, you know. What do you think? And keep my eyes on you.”

  It was too good to be true. Teddy felt it couldn’t be true. But he also knew his father. He didn’t kid around, he didn’t joke around, and he never lied. If he said he was giving Teddy a shot, he was giving Teddy a shot. And Teddy couldn’t help it. He tried to hug his father again. But Mick wasn’t having it this time. He pushed him back. “Cut that shit out,” he said. “You want to run in the major leagues, act like you belong there. Because as soon as these fuckers see that you don’t, you’re dead. You understand me, son? You’re dead.”

  Teddy’s gaiety subsided. This shit was serious, just like his father said. And he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I understand, sir.”

  Mick stared at him. He didn’t understand at all. He wasn’t ready, not to play in the majors the way Mick was about to thrust him into. He wasn’t ready by a long shot. But to keep his boy alive; to keep his son from the illusion that he was ready to run with the big boys and could therefore create businesses that treaded on big boy territory, Mick had to do it. And Teddy would have to see for himse
lf just how unprepared he truly was.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Mick said to Teddy, as he began to walk toward the front door. “I’ve got a car waiting out front.”

  “We’re going to the airport now?” Teddy asked.

  “No.” Mick stopped and looked at him as if he was nuts. “Hell no, Teddy. I’ve hired a man to take the rap and claim he was the one who iced Mimi. He’s a local guy who’s already accused of murder and waiting his trial. He and his family have been well compensated. So the cops should have eased up by now. But that doesn’t mean the robbers have too. And your ass knows who I’m talking about.”

  “Uncle Angelo,” Teddy said.

  Mick nodded. “Ang’s crazy ass. We don’t know what he’s up to.”

  “He won’t come at you, Pop. He wouldn’t dare!”

  “You would think he had more sense than that. But he doesn’t. He’s crazy. You put nothing pass a crazy man. We’ll have to play it safe, changing car after car, going from one spot to the next, until we get the all-clear to get out of town. No cellphone usage. No trusting anybody. Until I can get you out of Paris.”

  “To where?”

  Mick frowned. “None of your fucking business. Let’s go.”

  But Teddy was unsettled. More was at work here, he could feel it in his bones. Ang was a crazy fuck, but he wasn’t crazy enough to take on Mick Sinatra. He was nowhere near in that league. Unless something more was going on here.

  But Teddy’s thoughts aside, he knew he had to do whatever his father told him to do. He was going to be in charge. Not totally. He was no fool. His father would still have the final say and all the hoods would understand that. But Teddy would build his reputation so undeniably until, when his father eventually bowed out, those same hoods would be as fearful of him as they were of his old man. It was just a matter of time and experience. Teddy couldn’t wait to get started!

  But as they began to walk by the front window, and as Mick called for his crew in the back to come up front, gunfire erupted. The glass shattered. Mick quickly knocked Teddy to the ground and they both began crawling away from the window view. But the shots kept coming. One after the other from what seemed like an army of gunmen. It felt as if they were surrounded. Teddy trusted his father, but he couldn’t imagine any way out, as Mick covered Teddy’s body with his own.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Roz laid down her son after laying down her daughter, and then spend several minutes just staring at her two twin babies as they slept in their cribs. Duke was looking more and more like Mick and Teddy, and Jacqueline was looking more and more like Roz. Even down to the way she smiled, Mick had once said. Roz smiled herself. He was just seeing things. But they did favor.

  Roz spoke with their nannies for a few minutes, and then left the Nursery and made her way to the bar. She wore a pair of Puma shorts and a t-shirt, and was glad to finally have some free time for herself. She poured herself a glass of wine, grabbed her cellphone, and made her way upstairs. Once in the massive bedroom she shared with Mick, she sat her glass on the nightstand, grabbed her laptop, and sat up in bed. She could smell Mick’s cologne all over the place, and it made her heady and horny. She still felt his hands all over her. She still felt his dick inside of her. Even when she wanted to concentrate on matters that had nothing to do with him, all she had to do was sniff, and she was thinking about Mick again.

  And hoping he was okay.

  When she glanced on her nightstand and saw the DVD Buddy Sykes had given to her, a DVD that was supposed to be a screen test some actress had completed, she put it into the compartment on her computer. She had forgotten that she had it. Might as well get this over with. She put on her reading glasses and took another sip of her wine. But when the video came up and she viewed it, she was dumbstruck. She was shocked by what she was seeing.

  It wasn’t some starlet as she was led to believe it would be, but a video of her husband. And a young woman. But instead of the young lady acting some role or reading some lines, she was naked and on top of Mick, riding his cock, and he was naked beneath her, holding her hands as she rode him. And this was no old video of Mick. This didn’t happen years and years ago. To Roz’s utter shock, this was recent. Very recent. From how Mick looked on the film, it could have been recorded last week!

  And what floored her even more wasn’t just that her husband was having sex with a woman who wasn’t her, which put an ache deep down within Roz, but he was having sex with the woman in the newspaper. The woman the Paris authorities believed had been killed by her stepson. By Teddy. Mick was having sex with that same woman in the photograph? How could that be? He said he didn’t know her. Roz showed him the photo, and he said he didn’t know the woman. Mick was no liar, but why would he lie about this? Was it because this video occurred during their marriage, and he didn’t want her to know the connection? Was it because Mick had cheated on her? Was it even more than that? She leaned back against the headboard. Her heart? Hammering.

  At the same time that Roz was in Philly, with its six-hour time difference, viewing that tape, Mick and Teddy were in Paris fighting for their lives. Mick’s crew in the backroom, including Francois and Leslie, ran up front with their own guns blazing, offering cover, when they heard the gunfire. They fired back at the gunmen outside.

  Mick and Teddy, understanding the value of backup, stood up and began running toward a side wall. Teddy pulled out his gun and was firing through the broken glass window too, firing back at the men firing in, while Mick knelt down, removed a floorboard, pressed in a code, and then the side wall opened. A tunnel-like passage was opened up.

  “Teddy!” Mick called for him.

  Teddy hurried to his father’s side.

  “Get our people out of harm’s way,” Mick ordered, “and then get your ass to the Brussels airport. Carmine and my Philly crew are waiting at the plane. If they haven’t heard from me when you get there, you go. You hear me? Get your ass out of Europe.”

  “But what about you, Dad?”

  “Don’t worry about me! I’ll get there. You’re responsible for this crew. Get them out of here alive, you hear me? Every one. I’ll distract.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said as Mick ordered Francois and Leslie and the rest of his crew to go with Teddy. From the sound of fire outside, they were easily outmanned and outgunned anyway. They didn’t stand a chance.

  His crew, understanding it too, fired shot after shot as they ran across the floor and into the open passageway, following Teddy.

  Mick closed the passageway and replaced the floorboard as he waited for a lull in the outside shooting. When it came, he ran to the broken front window, pulled out two guns, and began firing repeatedly into the night. He fell to the floor as the gunfire started up again. This time even more devastatingly as they saw Mick the Tick in the window. Which was exactly what Mick needed them to see, and do.

  He crawled across the room, his guns still in hand, until he was in the kitchen area. Once inside the kitchen, he got up, put his guns away, and opened a bottom shelf. He pulled out a duffel bag, opened it quickly, and then pulled out three grenades.

  As the gunfire continued, ricocheting off walls and furniture, he ran to the stove, pushed it out of his way, and then found a button on the floor. It was a timed opening and closing. Thirty seconds for both actions. And once it was closed, it could not reopen. Not for another twenty-four hours. It was installed, purposely, to be the final escape.

  And then Mick waited. When he heard a lull in the gunfire, he became even more alert. And then, when he heard the front door get kicked in, he pressed the escape hatch button. The escape hatch opened up within the wall. With only fifteen seconds before the door began to close on him, he didn’t run through the now opened passageway, but ran toward the front door. He pulled the plug and threw one, and then the other one, and then the third grenade. But the pin wouldn’t release on the third one, and he had to throw it unexploded.

  But as the other two grenades created a double explosion, kno
cking the advancing gunmen back on their heels and undoubtedly killing most, if not all of them, Mick ran toward the passageway. But a second wave of gunmen, those who didn’t get burned by the grenades, came charging in.

  But the escape hatch was beginning to close in on Mick. And he was a big man who couldn’t squeeze through a tight passage. He was deft in speed and, as gunfire erupted again, barely missing him, he managed to throw his body through the passageway. But his big frame got stuck. And the gunfire continued. It took all the power he had, and all the energy and force of will he could muster, as veins appeared on his forehead and neck, but he found a way to push his body on through. He made it through.

  And as the entire house began to go up in flames, and as the gunmen who, as a force of one, fell as that unit of one, Mick ran down the stairs inside the escape hatch, and crawled through a tunnel he had constructed years ago, for days like this. His only prayer, as he crawled, was when he landed on the other side, there wouldn’t be gunmen there too.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Buddy Sykes stood in the local theater meeting with stage hands on the morning of opening night. When he saw Roz, he threw up his hand. After excusing himself from his team, he walked offstage, and met her midway.

  “Please don’t tell me there’s another problem,” he said. “Miranda has to show up tonight. It’s opening night. Please don’t tell me there’s a problem.”

  “There’s no problem with Miranda,” Roz said. “She’s a go. But there’s a problem with this.” Roz pulled out the DVD.

  Buddy was confused. “What’s that?”

  “The tape you gave me of the so-called screen test for the young actress you were so impressed with. Remember?”

  “Yeah, so? Roz, I have opening night tonight and you’re here to talk to me about some starlet? You know how crazy I am on opening night. You will simply have to see me later about that.”

  “It’s not a screen test, Buddy, and you know it.”