And then, after they realized, to their horror, that they had no more firepower left, Mick walked out of that bullet-riddled backroom door. Danny, Angelo, and Joey walked out behind him.
“I knew Frog,” Mick said again, “and I knew Frog worked for you.” He was looking at and walking toward Lenny D’Amato. “And just like Danny and Angelo works for me, I knew he worked for you exclusively. I knew he didn’t shit unless you ordered him to shit.”
Lenny was defeated. He knew it. But his hatred for Mick was too deep for him to ever surrender. “You killed my brother. You know that, motherfucker?”
Joey was the one who had actually killed Stone Cold D’Amato when D’Amato was about to kill Mick. But Mick let it be known that he was the killer. Mick protected Joey from any blowback. “Stone Cold got what he deserved,” Mick said, still protecting his son despite knowing the fate these two men faced. “I’d do it all over again if I had to.”
“Rot in hell!” Lenny said between clenched teeth.
Mick smiled. “But I think you are not in position to tell me to rot anywhere. I think you are the one who will be rotting first.”
Then Mick looked at Al Zanetti. “Hello Alphonse,” he said.
“Fuck you, Micky!” Al shot back. “If you’re gonna kill us, kill us! We won’t be kissing your ass!”
“Oh, but you used to love kissing it,” Mick responded. “You wanted to be just like me. You wanted to walk like me. You wanted to dress like me. You wanted to fuck the women I fucked.”
“You ruined my life when you fired me,” Al responded. “Someday somebody’s gonna ruin yours!”
“Someday maybe,” Mick said. Then his look turned cold as ice. “But not this day. And not by the hands of two sorry-ass punks like you.”
He frowned. “I was listening to your little conversation. You said you planned to chip away at my wife. That was the way it was phrased. You two planned to chip away at my wife.”
“That’s how we put it,” Al said. “Big deal!”
Rage pierced Mick’s heart, but he kept his cool and reached inside of his overcoat. He pulled out a machete.
Al and Lenny both stiffened as soon as they saw it. They knew Mick. They knew how ruthless he could be.
“Maybe I can return the favor,” Mick said. “Maybe I can chip away at you.”
“No!” Al cried as Mick, without hesitation, chopped off his right arm. The blood gushed out, hitting some of Mick’s men.
“And maybe I can chip away a little more,” Mick said, as he chopped off Al’s left arm. Al fell to his knees in agony. And then, as the blood flowed too rapidly, he fell over and died.
Lenny, certain that Mick had the same horrific fate in store for him, ran toward the window and tried with all he had to throw himself out through the glass. But the glass was too tempered. It wouldn’t break.
And then Mick Machete, singularly focused on ridding his family from this clear and present danger in front of him, was upon him too.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Three weeks later
“Why is he making me come to a Cadillac Dealership, Deuce?” Roz asked as the limo stopped in the dealership’s parking lot.
“Maybe he wants to buy you a Cadillac,” Deuce said. “You still haven’t settled on what car you want to replace your wrecked Rolls Royce.”
“But I’m not a Cadillac person,” Roz said. “Don’t get me wrong, now. Those ladies be styling in their Caddies.” But her true preference was another Rolls Royce, or a Bentley, if truth be told.
“Don’t knock it,” Deuce advised as he opened his door and prepared to get out. “I’ve driven many cars in my day. No car drives better, nor looks prettier in my opinion, than a Caddy on the road.”
But as Deuce opened the backdoor and Roz stepped out, she wasn’t feeling it. When she tried to tell Deuce that very thing over the phone, he wasn’t trying to hear her. He wanted her to meet him at the Cadillac dealership. He wasn’t leaving it up for debate.
Now she was on the car lot. And Deuce wasn’t lying. Those Cadillacs were gorgeous. But she always equated them with old, rich white guys in golf caps, or middle-aged, wealthy black women with blue hair. She didn’t fall into either category. These cars, though beautiful, wasn’t for her.
She saw Mick and headed his way. Mick, along with what appeared to be a fast-talking salesman, was standing beside a big, white Cadillac Escalade.
“It’ll give you that kind of protection,” the salesman was saying. “I guarantee you that. They don’t call it the SUV for the family with style for nothing.” Then he saw Roz. “Hello there.”
“Hi,” Roz said with a smile.
“May I help you?”
Mick placed an arm around Roz’s waist. “This is my wife,” he said to the salesman.
“Mrs. Sinatra,” the salesman said, a slight look of surprise in his eyes. “How good to meet you.”
Roz looked at Mick. “Really, Mick? An Escalade? For me?”
“For me,” Mick said. “I wanted you to see it before I bought it.”
Roz was even more surprised. She smiled. “For your men, or for you?”
“For my family,” Mick said. “What do you think? Gorgeous or what?”
“Gorgeous,” Roz said. “It’s very nice. But is it you? I’m not sold.”
“Sold,” Mick said to the salesman, and they shook hands.
“I’ll draw up the paperwork, sir,” the happy salesman said as he hurried toward the showroom.
“It’s not about me anymore, Rosalind,” Mick said. “We have the twins to think about now. And what if we wanted to do a family outing with all of the kids? I have five, you know. We need the space. I don’t want us piling in some limousine every time we want to go out together.”
“But you have a fleet of SUVs, Mick. Big, black, reliable SUVs.”
A pain shot through Mick’s body as if it were a reminder of his still unsettled life. “Those are for business use only. My family life is separate.”
Roz looked at him. She felt the pain too. “I’m just glad it’s over. I hated what I had to do to Stu, but he left me no choice.”
“You and Teddy did the right thing,” Mick said, pulling her closer against his side. “Don’t ever leave them around to come back for you. They might miss you and hit one of our children.”
Roz nodded. “I agree,” she said.
“My men took care of that bastard Chad Dawkins too. I would have kicked Cathleen’s ass for entertaining him and his nonsense, and for trying to get dirt on you in the first place. But I didn’t want to alienate Joey again.”
“Good,” Roz said. “She’s not worth it.”
“But I still paid her ass a visit,” Mick said. “I still laid down the law with her. She won’t be getting another chance.”
Roz nodded. “I’m just sorry my three accusers got away with it,” she said.
Mick looked at her. “Who says they got away with it?”
Roz was confused. “But after they admitted they lied at that press conference, they went back to their lives in New York. Or, at least, that’s what I thought happened.”
“You thought wrong,” Mick said. “No fucker is going to make those kind of allegations against my wife and expect to walk away scot free. They plotted and planned that shit for months. They smiled in your face as if they were on your side, and then tried to stab you in the back. They got theirs. You better believe they got theirs. And if Cathleen hadn’t been Joey’s mother, she would be right there at the bottom of the ocean with those assholes.”
Roz rubbed her forehead. “Such tangled webs,” she said. “Why do they keep insisting on weaving them? Don’t they realize who you are by now? Look like Cathleen would have known. She used to share your bed. I’m sure she’s seen the extent of your rage a time or two.”
“I never wasted that kind of energy on my lovers,” Mick admitted. “Only on my enemies and my loved ones. Never on lovers. They have never been worth it to me. Cathleen didn’t know the extent of my wr
ath. But she knows now.”
Roz smiled. “Yet I have to endure it night after night.”
Mick looked at her doubtfully. “What wrath of mine you endure night after night?”
“The wrath of your penis,” Roz said, and Mick grabbed her in a playful bear hug, laughing. She laughed too.
But as that same big penis of his began to jut against her small tight ass, his seriousness returned. “Another thing that big SUV is good for,” he said in her ear as he continued to hold her.
“What’s that?” Roz asked.
“It’s great for pulling over on the side of the road, lifting up the window tint, and fucking in the backseat.”
Roz smiled. “Like kids,” she said.
“If you weren’t my wife, and if I didn’t respect you the way I respect you, as soon as we leave this place I’d pull over and start taking care of business all over you.”
Roz smiled and looked at him. It was only then did she see just how serious he was. “After we secure our ride,” he said, “we’ll stop at a hotel. I can’t make it all the way home.”
Roz stared at him, then decided. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said.
After Mick wrote a check and purchased the Escalade, and after Roz got behind the wheel, they were off. And true to her word, she didn’t drive all the way to their estate. She, instead, drove to a familiar suburban house that Mick had all but forgotten about.
“Isn’t this your old house?” he asked. “The house you were renting before we got married?”
Roz nodded. “Yes,” she said.
He looked at her. “What’s this about?”
Roz wasn’t sure how he was going to take it, but she was sure she had to tell him the truth. “I bought it,” she said.
“You were renting it,” Mick said.
“With the option to buy,” Roz said. “And just before we got married, I bought it.”
Mick was floored. “But why? You were going to live with me.”
“I know I was. But . . .”
Mick stared at her as they sat in the driveway of the modest home. He did not speak in the silence. He waited for her to continue.
“But it’s good to have your own, Mick. I was about to get married for the first time ever, and move into your house and your life and your world. I needed to have something here in Philly that was mine first.”
“You were afraid it may not work out for us?” Mick asked her.
Roz hated to admit it, but she knew she had to. “You never know,” she said.
Mick stared at her. And then he nodded. “Always think like that,” he told her. “Do you have a separate bank account too?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good,” he said. “I want you to stay strong and independent that way. Because if something happens to me and the Feds freeze my assets, you can’t afford to scramble around. You’ve got to be able to keep our children afloat. You know about our offshore accounts?”
Roz nodded. Shortly after they were married, Mick showed her all of the various bank accounts he had overseas. All of the various bank accounts the Feds knew nothing about. “Yes,” she said. “I remember.”
“Those you do not touch until after the heat is completely off,” he reminded her. “I’m glad you thought to have something to tie you over.”
Roz was pleased by his response. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “You’re the best,” she said. But when she was about to move away, he pulled her back. And kissed her harder.
“But Mick,” she said playfully, between kisses, “you said you respect me too much to do it in a car.”
“But this is an SUV,” Mick responded. When Roz hit him on his arm, he laughed.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and getting them both out on the passenger side, “let’s get it on!”
They got it on. In the bedroom of the furnished house. All that could be heard was Mick’s big dick pumping into Roz’s tight pussy. All that could be seen was their discarded clothes strewn throughout the room, and their two naked bodies making love on the pillow top bed.
Roz was on top, riding him hard, and the pain she felt every time she went all the way down on him was only matched by the pleasure she felt coming back up. He was long and thick and juicy, and she was enjoying the long ride.
He was squeezing her breasts and fondling her nipples, which she also enjoyed, as she rode him. And she was moving her body in ways that made his cock hit her sensitive spots every time she rode him. She was in control of their journey, and he allowed her to take the reins.
Until she was getting too good at it. Until her movements weren’t only hitting her sensitive spots, but his as well. And then he took over.
He pulled her body down on top of his, sucking her breasts as she moved closer to his face, and his strokes paced faster. He pumped into her with force going in, and tenderness moving out. Over and over he repeated his strokes until he was in that groove that kept them both on the verge of cum. It was that sweet spot they loved. It was where the moment was so enjoyable, and so soothing, that it felt as if it would never end.
But when those same wonderful feelings began to intensify toward a full-blown climax, Mick sucked her breasts harder, held onto her ass tighter, and pumped into her even harder. He loved this woman and he wanted his cock to do the telling.
And it told. It told a story that had never yet been told. Roz had an orgasm that caused her to jerk repeatedly, as if she couldn’t control herself. Mick, feeling her sensation, began to cum too. Only his cum matched hers and he, too, could barely control his body. They were feeling one of those deep down feelings, where love was more dominant than lust, and all they could do was go along for the ride.
They rode that wave hard. Mick released a torrent into her, and she felt as if he was bathing her with his love. He stopped sucking her breasts, pulled her down further, and they began kissing as they fucked. But it was no tender kissing. It was hard and rough. It matched the passionate intensity inside of them.
The wave didn’t stop until they were too exhausted to stay on the ride. Mick had poured out, Roz had jerked out, and both of their bodies were empty and satisfied at the same time.
Roz wanted to roll off of him. She knew she was heavy dead weight. But Mick wouldn’t let her leave. He held her tighter.
She looked at him. He could not have looked more beautiful to her. “It’s getting late, buster,” she said to him. “We’ve got to pick up the twins and take them to their doctor’s appointment.”
“I know,” Mick said, but he didn’t let her go. He, in fact, held her tighter.
Roz didn’t know why. Sometimes Mick behaved needy this way. But every time it happened, she never questioned it. She just held him as tightly as he was holding her.
Less than two hours later, Mick and Roz were in the fight of their lives. They were in the parking lot at the doctor’s office. Their twins were in the backseat and they were outside of the Escalade. Bullets were sailing all around them. It was an ambush. Mick had been struck once, twice, and a third time by the time he ordered Roz to get in the SUV and take herself and their children to safety. Mick knew he wasn’t getting out of this alive, but he wasn’t about to die until he knew Roz and the twins had gotten out.
He rolled off of Roz the way she had wanted to roll off of him two hours earlier, and gave her cover with his gunfire while she jumped into the SUV. But Roz knew she couldn’t leave him to die. Because she knew he would surely die if she drove away. She was at risk. Their babies were at risk. But she couldn’t just leave him there to die. She had to do everything in her power to save Mick’s life. She had to!
She reached into her purse that was still in the SUV, grabbed her gun, and leaned out of the door firing too. She fired and she fired. Mick was firing and yelling at her.
“Get back in!” he yelled. “You can’t save me!”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” Roz yelled back.
And as soon as she said th
ose words, there was a lull on the other side, as if they were reloading their weapons. Roz knew it was now or never. She grabbed Mick by his shoulders.
“I can’t move, Rosalind,” Mick cried, as he tried to move. “You can’t help me. Get out while you can!”
But for the first time in her life, Roz ignored Mick. She pulled on him and pulled on him. She listened to his yells and shouts and prayed for strength. Mick was a big man, and solid as a rock, but she kept pulling.
She pulled on him until she hoisted him up onto the SUV’s step up. When he realized she wasn’t going to leave without him, he forced his badly wounded body to react too. And he found just enough strength that he didn’t think was possible for him to still have left, and helped her hoist him up and halfway into the SUV.
But then Roz saw the gunmen’s car speeding toward the SUV. They were coming to finish Mick off. They were undoubtedly reloading their weapons as they came. And Roz got in a hurry that bordered on pure panic.
Without bothering to close the door, as his body wasn’t all the way in anyway, she scurried to get behind the wheel. When she did, she pressed the Start button and sped away. She flew away. The SUV swerved and almost tilted over, but she held onto that wheel as if she was holding onto her family’s very survival, and kept on driving.
Mick, sweating profusely, held onto the handle beside the dashboard and kept trying to hoist himself further into the SUV. Their babies in the backseat were crying hysterically. They were too young to know what was going on, but they knew their parents were in distress and something wasn’t right. Mick felt so guilty his heart felt as if it was pounding out of his chest. His fucking lifestyle brought this upon his family. His fucking need to be fucking gangster caused his wife to risk her life to save his own, and caused both of them to put their children, their precious babies, in danger too. The physical pain his body was feeling was excruciating, but it paled by comparison to the emotional pain that racked his soul.
Mick Sinatra: The Harder They Fall Page 13
