“Why didn’t you tell me the whole story yesterday?” he asked her.
“I couldn’t. It was one of the most shameful chapters in my life. I couldn’t bear how you would look at me if you knew the truth.” Then she realized something else. “You talk as if you already knew,” she said.
Mick stared his hard eyes into hers. When they made love, his sleepy eye looked sensual. When they didn’t, his sleepy eye just looked cold. “You still don’t fully understand who you’re dealing with,” he said. “I know everything about you, Rosalind Sinatra.”
He pulled her closer against him, and cupped and softly rubbed her ass. “You don’t just belong to Mick Sinatra now. You belong to Mick the Tick too. And what that means is that nobody can blackmail you, or attempt to subvert our relationship, unless they come through me.”
Roz was astounded by the reach of this man. “So you already knew about the time Chad Dawkins accused me of sexually harassing him?”
Mick nodded. “Yes.”
“But when did you find out?”
“The first time I realized you were going to be mine. It was time for me to protect you. I couldn’t if I didn’t have all the details of your life. At least the ones I could find out about. I found out about Chad Dawkins.”
But there was another part to that story. The part he might be shocked to learn. “Did you find out that his claim of harassment was considered baseless and his case was thrown out of court?”
Mick nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you find out,” she asked, although she knew it was impossible for him to know this, “that his claim, considered baseless by the court system, was true?”
That gentle rub stopped. Mick stared into her eyes. “What do you mean?”
A strained look appeared in Roz’s eyes. “It was true, Mick. My lawyer made me fight it. He said if I admitted to anything like that it would open the floodgates for lawsuits that would have no basis in truth but still could be won based on my prior act. But Chad’s claims were true.”
Roz could actually see where Mick was thrown by the news. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. How could it be true?”
“I fell for him. Hard. I broke every rule in the book and actually fell in love with one of my students. And I pursued him. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because my acting career was going nowhere fast. Maybe it was because I was afraid to be alone. I don’t know. But I saw in Chad the answer to all of my hopes and dreams. I thought he was everything I wanted in a man. And he wanted me. At first.”
“You had a consensual relationship with him?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. And it was a great relationship early on.”
“But then?” Mick asked.
“But then he got this great part on Broadway. A starring role. And his play was a hit. He became the toast of the town. Women flocked at his feet. And suddenly I became relegated to the side chick. I was just a booty call. He continued to hone his skills at my studio, that was a condition of his run-of-show contract. A contract that I negotiated for him, by the way. But the producers wanted to make sure he was improving with every performance. So he was technically still my student. And I was calling him, and asking to see him, and . . . begging to be with him. I was in a bad place. An awful place. I’m ashamed of my behavior.”
Mick was staring at her. And his look changed. But instead of seeing condemnation in his eyes, she saw love. “I’m ashamed, Mick,” she said. “That’s why I couldn’t bear telling you.”
“You may be ashamed of your actions with that loser,” Mick said, “but I’m not ashamed of you. You did something dumb, Rosalind. You fell in love with the wrong guy. But that doesn’t define you. That doesn’t make you dumb.”
But Roz wasn’t letting herself off that easily. She frowned. “Then what does it make me?” she asked him.
“A woman who wanted what she wanted and went for it,” Mick said. “And hell yeah you didn’t admit any harassing behavior. That fucker took all you had, became a success, and then dumped the woman who made him who he became. You don’t owe him shit. And you cannot be ashamed of daring to love somebody who didn’t deserve you.”
Roz smiled. “You’ve got all the answers, don’t you?” she asked.
“When it comes to you?” he asked, but his cockiness left. “I hope so,” he said heartfelt.
Roz was so grateful, and felt as if she could finally unpack her guilt and shame, that she fell into his arms.
Mick held her tightly between his legs. He closed his eyes and held the love of his life as if he was the one in need of the affection. He hated that she thought he would see her in a negative light. He would never see her that way. Not Rosalind. Not the only person on the face of this earth who was ever able to disprove his theory that love never conquered shit. Rosalind proved that her decency, her devotion, her love conquered all.
But as he held her, as he felt her bare breasts, her bare stomach pressed against him, he also realized something more. Her love also conquered his dick, because it was begging to get inside of her again.
He lifted her head off of his shoulder and began kissing her. She knew he was late and getting later than late. She knew she wasn’t exactly going to make it to her office on time either. But she began unbuckling and unzipping his pants all the same. She was so grateful to have an understanding man like him that she pulled out his fully aroused dick, got on her knees, and began to suck him.
Mick felt so overwhelmed with passion for this woman that he laid back and enjoyed every second of her oral. If he was the master of the fuck, she was the mistress, and she was going down on him hard. She knew every one of his tender spots, and she rubbed and licked and sucked each one.
But when she went all the way down on him the way he loved, and began to mouth-fuck him deep throat, he knew he had to stop her. He was about to cum in her mouth.
He lifted her up, laid her on top of him, and slung his pants and briefs down to his ankles. When he took his cock and slid it inside of her, they both moaned. It felt so good. And they both wanted it fast, they both wanted it hard, they both wanted it rough.
He gave all three. He fucked her with manic speed. All that could be heard in the room was the sound of his balls slapping against her ass. Roz loved the way he pounded her. She loved the way he was banging the shit out of her. Until she banged the cum out of him.
He came first with a forceful release. He ejected a load into her. And her orgasm accompanied the downpour. She was pulsating and tightening, and he was clenching and straining as he fucked her. It was the kind of cum that lasted. It was the kind of cum that was so powerful it would not let them go.
Until both of them were so saturated, and so drained, that they were the ones who had to finally, lovingly, put a stop to all of this wonderment.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The convoy of trucks left the docks and headed to Mick’s warehouse. Danny and his men were in the lead truck, monitoring the route on the computerized screen, while Angelo and his men bought up the rear. It was a well planned and executed route. Not their normal route or the assholes who hijacked it the last time would get suspicious. The fact that the route had changed would be evidence enough, at least they thought, of the Sinatra syndicate thinking they were slick.
The drive was as expected until they reached the warehouse. No cars or trucks were anywhere to be seen. No suspicious activity either. Danny began to wonder if they had overreacted. Danny began to wonder if those fuckers stole the big catch, and wasn’t going to push their luck again.
They pushed their luck again. As soon as the convoy arrived at the warehouse, a large contingent of thugs, all on motorcycles, flew from across the lower field and up to the warehouse doors. And they came with guns blazing. They came twenty men strong.
But then the warehouse doors opened, and Mick came out. And he came fifty men strong. And they came guns blazing. Only they came behind the motorcycle gang. And instead of being ambushed, they ambushed them.
The gunfight was far more
one-sided than Mick had expected. The motorcyclists could ride a bike like nobody’s business, but they weren’t exactly marksmen. But Mick and his men were. They picked them off one by one. Mick unloaded his sawed off shotgun into every body he aimed at. Danny and Angelo and all of their men joined in the battle. And they picked them off one by one too. Mick didn’t stop shooting, nor his men following his lead, until the last man fell.
They didn’t have to leave a spokesman alive to tell them who was the ringleader. Because as soon as they realized that the gang was of the motorcycle variety, something they didn’t know previously, they had their answer. Marty “the Brewster” Bingham was the only fucker crazy enough in Philly to perpetrate this crime. Marty B was the only motorcycle gangsters on a level ballsy enough. As soon as Mick realized who was behind this hijack attempt, he searched out the ringleader. When he saw him, he killed him. Marty B was the first man Mick killed.
When the last man dropped, and the gunfire stopped, Mick stepped aside and ordered the trucks containing their merchandise to drive on through. His men were pleased. Another well executed plan by their boss. That was why they loved being a part of Mick’s syndicate. He knew what he was doing.
And he was precise about it too. All business the way they liked. Before they could celebrate anything, he ordered them to clear the area, and clean up the bloody mess.
Joey was sitting in the outer sanctum of Mick’s office suite when he finally arrived at Sinatra Industries. He had changed, into another suit, but nobody knew that but him. Joey especially had no clue, since he had been waiting at SI for over three hours. Mick saw him sitting there, against the wall, in his baggy jeans, his t-shirt, and that gold medallion around his neck, and he wondered if his boy would ever become a man. He looked like a kid sitting there to Mick. A good looking, frightened little kid despite his hip hop style.
Then Mick looked again. Maybe he was going about it all wrong. Joey was Joey and that was all there was to it. He was a manchild and probably always would be. Maybe you couldn’t change a person’s nature, just as Mick realized a long time ago that he couldn’t change his own. But Joey had to grow the fuck up if he expected to run with Mick. That was all there was to it too.
Joey stood up as soon as he saw that his father had arrived in the top floor suite of offices. Mick’s executive assistant, Blair Conyers, looked up too. “Hey, Dad,” Joey said with an upbeat voice as Mick approached him.
“Good morning,” Mick said, with his briefcase at his side.
Joey wanted to say more, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He was pissed when his father refused him entry at his estate earlier. When he phoned his mother and told her, she was angry too. But they both realized it was probably a bad idea to begin with. He was trying to get out of Mick’s doghouse. Trying to get into the big house wasn’t the way to go about it. “At least he told you to go to his office,” Cathleen had said. “You have got to get back on his good side, no matter how you go about it. Give it your best shot at his office.”
“Good morning, sir,” Blair Conyers said, as she handed him a stack of mail. She was seated behind her desk. “The Argentine group will be here at noon, sir.”
“Where’s my daughter?” Mick asked her.
“She hasn’t arrived yet.”
“When she does arrive,” Mick said, looking at the clock on the wall, “tell her I want her in that meeting too.”
Blair was surprised to hear it. She still felt that Gloria Sinatra was much too young and inexperienced to be rising so fast in an organization of this caliber. But Mick was the boss. There was no disputing that. “Yes, sir,” Blair said.
“Come with me,” Mick said to Joey, without looking back, as he headed for his office door.
Joey gladly followed, giving Blair the eye as he walked past. He saw that look on her face when his father said that he wanted Gloria in that big meeting. She used to look down on Joey the same way when he worked in his father’s mailroom. Just an insufferable old jealous bitch in Joey’s eyes. He was glad Gloria was still working there to get under her skin, and was rising high in the company. Good for Glo, he thought with some satisfaction, as he followed Mick.
Mick sat his briefcase on his desk and took a seat behind it as Joey closed the door and headed toward him. Most men wouldn’t have the balls to come around Mick’s desk and lean against it, but Joey did. It didn’t surprise Mick. Being a weak man wasn’t Joey’s problem. He wasn’t weak. None of Mick’s children were. Joey’s problem, other than his whiny ways, was that he loved his old man too much, and hated himself for it.
Mick leaned sideways in his chair, his arm on the armrest, the back of his fingers rubbing the bottom of his chin, and watched his son. He knew most men would be more conciliatory toward their wayward child, but Mick wasn’t most men. Joey had let him down time and time again. He had disappointed him no end. His hope had been that he could work in the mailroom and eventually rise in the company the way Gloria had. His hope was that he could shield him from those mean, dead-end streets he was so determined to travel. He couldn’t shield Teddy because Teddy was already too far gone. He was already traveling those streets. But the difference was that Teddy was already in the game. He was already man enough to handle it. Joey was still a kid playing a man’s game. And losing.
“I let you down,” he said to his father straight up. “What I did to Cousin Sal’s kid was terrible and I know it was. I wasn’t going to hurt any baby, but I shouldn’t have done it anyway. And you were right last night. If I hadn’t been your son, and you hadn’t shielded me from Sal, I would have been dead for what I did. I’m sorry about that.”
Then a frown came on Joey’s baby face. Mick’s hand stopped rubbing beneath his chin because he could instinctively sense that the truth was about to be revealed. Not that I’m so sorry bullshit Mick wouldn’t fall for even if it fell from a tree. But the truth.
“I tried so hard to clean up my act,” Joey said. “I worked in that mailroom like you wanted and tried to do everything you told me to do.” He paused, as if he didn’t want to admit it, but knew he had to. He looked unflinchingly into Mick’s cold eyes. “But I’m crooked, Dad,” he said. “I can’t be straight like that. I’m not 9-to-5 material. I’m a leader. Even when I worked in your mailroom those old guys down there respected my leadership. But the way I see myself and the way you see me is so different.”
Joey waited for his father to ask the all-important question. He waited for his father to ask what was that difference. But Mick continued to stare at him. If he was as tough as he claimed to be, then he should be tough enough to answer his own fucking questions. Mick wasn’t helping out.
“You see me as a leader too I think,” Joey continued. He realized Mick was Mick and wasn’t playing along. He was on his own. “But you see me leading mail carriers. I see myself leading armies. I see myself in battles. Last night, when you were driving your badass Maserati through the streets of Philadelphia, I loved that. That shit turns me on, Pop, not working for some boring-ass company like this. This ain’t me! And I’m tired of trying to pretend it is.”
Then Joey got real balls and said: “You’re me,” he said. “I’m you. That street part of you. That part of you that put that gun to that man’s head last night when we all thought he was just some happy-go-lucky nobody. That’s me, Pop. That’s the life I want. Jail, death, who cares? I rather be dead than live like a fish on a hook!”
Then his voice became a plea. “Can’t you see that?” he asked his father.
Whatever Mick saw, he wasn’t sharing it with his son. He let his guard down for one person and one person only: Rosalind. And even then, it wasn’t usually a public display. It was private between the two of them. Nobody else would ever truly know that side of him. Not even his children. Because of their vulnerability as his children, especially not them.
His desk intercom buzzed. He pressed the button. “What?”
“Your son is here to see you, sir,” Blair said.
�
��Send him in,” Mick responded, and within seconds Teddy walked in.
Joey, seeing him and knowing he didn’t come to S.I. unless there was some problem with their father’s other business, leaned off of Mick’s desk and walked over to the window. He turned around.
“Hey, Joe, what’s up?” Teddy asked as he made it way to their father’s desk.
“What’s up?” Joey asked. He should have been jealous of Teddy. Teddy, after all, was their father’s right hand man. But he wasn’t jealous. Teddy was first and last his big brother, and he loved and respected him. Joey and Gloria both knew Teddy had their backs.
But when Teddy asked Mick if they could talk, as if to ask if they could talk in front of Joey, it deflated Joey once again. He just knew his father was going to get rid of him without resolving anything.
But when Mick said, “yeah, you can talk,” it warmed Joey’s heart. He wasn’t dismissed. He wasn’t being treated like some outsider. Maybe his father was beginning to understand what he was trying to tell him.
“We got nothing,” Teddy said to Mick. “No matter what we try, no matter how we try it, they’re sticking to their story. There’s no mastermind, they claim. They work alone. They run insurance scams like this up and down the coast. That’s how they make their living. And we checked, Pop. We investigated the shit out of them. It’s true. They would have never run into Roz if they knew who you were. They just thought she was just another wealthy black woman in Philly going about her business. They target expensive cars, they said. They don’t give a fuck about who the people are.”
Mick took a moment to digest what Teddy had just told him. What surprised him wasn’t what Teddy was saying, but the fact that he would come to him with this at all.
But Teddy, unlike the way Joey realized he had handled it, didn’t fill his father’s silence with more talk. He waited for Mick to speak. And Mick did speak.
“You believe them?” Mick asked Teddy.
Teddy nodded his head. “They’re very believable, Pop. Yeah, I believe them.”
Mick Sinatra: The Harder They Fall Page 7
