Mick Sinatra: Now Will You Weep

by Mallory Monroe

  “What happened?” Deuce asked Roz, mortified that he had missed something.

  “This bitch spiked my drink,” Roz responded. “With her slick ass.”

  But Cathleen wasn’t feeling slick anymore. She was trying to get up. She had forty-eight hours to get this shit completely out of her system, and she knew she had to get started right away. She just had to prove to Roz that she had it all wrong. She might have seen something fall into her drink, but it didn’t come from Cathleen!

  But convincing Roz became the least of her problems. Trusting a man like Jake the Snake, a man known for his untrustworthiness, became the real problem. Because within seconds of Cathleen hitting the ground, she began having convulsions. And then she was foaming at the mouth. Jake said the pill wouldn’t take effect for forty-eight hours. Jake said Cathleen would be long gone from Mick’s estate well before any damage was visible. Jake said Cathleen would never be blamed for Roz’s death and Roz, her number one nemesis, would be out of the picture forever.

  But something else happened on the way to Cathleen’s victory. Jake lied. The poison pill not only took effect immediately on swallowing, but it took effect violently. And Cathleen’s demise was a violent end. Roz and Deuce and all of Mick’s other guards looked on with amazement as Cathleen’s eyes widen with terror and she began shaking and convulsing uncontrollably. She was gasping for breath, reaching until her muscles began cramping up, and then stiffened to where she could not move them at all.

  And then Cathleen Thomas and all of her plots and schemes, including the one scheme that did her own self in, died.

  Roz was not the kind of woman who could gloat over another human being’s demise, but she was not about to shed a tear for Cathleen Thomas. Because Cathleen didn’t come there to help her son, she came there to help herself with Roz’s life. That violent death Cathleen had just endured would have been Roz’s end if Roz had not applied every observational technique Mick had taught her at that very moment in time. Her heart went out to Joey. He truly loved his mother. But Cathleen bought this shit on herself.

  “Have somebody clean up this mess,” Roz ordered Deuce.

  “Yes ma’am,” Deuce said, but then he looked at her. “I was staring at that woman the entire time. All of us were. How did you see her put that poison in your drink?”

  “I didn’t,” Roz said. “But Mick once told me if I ever find myself in a room with my enemies, and they do anything altruistic, like pouring me a drink, I was to assume without fail that they had just poisoned me. Don’t drink it. Make them drink it, he told me. If I was wrong, fuck it. They were my enemies anyway. If I was right, I would have just saved my life.” Roz looked at Cathleen. “I just saved my life.”

  Then she looked at Deuce. “When Mick talks, I listen. That’s how I knew.”

  Roz looked at Cathleen one more time, and then grabbed her cell phone and her paperwork, and left her once serene patio for Mick’s men to sanitize.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Scar Parrushi and Jake Vietti were already discussing their Sinatra problem in the back room of Parrushi’s dingy bar, when Petty Renault flung the door open and leaned against the jamb. He appeared overcome with agony. Both Scar and Jake rose to their feet.

  “What is it?” Scar asked. “What happened?”

  “My wife,” Renault said, looking up at his colleagues as if he still couldn’t believe it. “My wife.”

  “What about your wife?” Scar asked.

  “He did my wife. My beloved wife. My Carmen! That motherfucker just killed my wife!”

  Scar and Jake looked at each other with shock. They couldn’t believe it. Bodyguards and uncles were one thing. But a man’s wife? Jake hurried over to Petty and helped him to the couch before he fell on his face. Scar hurried over and closed the room’s door.

  Jake looked at Scar. “That fucker’s crazy,” he said.

  “Then we’d better get crazy too. Planning and plotting time is over. It’s time we execute this shit. It’s time we stop this fool and his one-man army before . . .”

  Petty looked at Scar. Jake waited for more. “Before what?” Jake finally asked.

  “Before he stops all of us,” Scar said. “Let’s put this shit on the table. He’s besting us. He’s making us look like his bitches. Let’s put an end to Micky Sinatra before he puts an end to us.”

  And Jake knew what Scar said was true. Mick had bested them on every turn. He took out Jake’s men. He took out Scar’s uncles. Now he was getting closer to home by taking out Petty’s wife. He even took out Henry Zigston as a message that he was nobody’s fool. Roz even somehow managed to turn the tables on that idiot Cathleen Thomas and poison her instead. No doubt under Mick’s direction. They weren’t being clever. They weren’t outsmarting Mick the Tick. He was outsmarting them! Scar was right. This had to end. “What’s our next move?” he asked Scar.

  “We get that army together now,” Scar said. “No more delays. No more drawing up the details. You get your best men together, I get mine, and Pet get his. And we go after that fucker. With overwhelming force. We hit and we hit and we hit until he begs for mercy.”

  “And then?” Jake asked.

  Scar didn’t hesitate. “And then,” he said, “we kill his ass.”

  The gate opened and the limousine roared up to the circular driveway and stopped at the steps. Security was everywhere, with men coming down the steps ready to open the limo’s back door, but Mick was already opening the door before the limo had come to a complete stop. And he jumped out and ran up the steps, two at a time, and into his home.

  “Where?” he said anxiously as soon as he entered the foyer and saw Gloria in the living area.

  “Upstairs,” Gloria said, looking flustered too, as Mick ran up the staircase and onto the second floor landing. He wore his flowing white coat with black clothes beneath it. A sign, Teddy once told her, that he had been handling some very messy business. But he had spooked Gloria so much with his aggressive entry that she didn’t have time to tell him that Roz was still in the shower, and that she wanted to know how they were going to tell Joey the news.

  But Gloria knew she should not have been surprised. Her father was all-in when it came to Roz. Mick had, in fact, phoned from his plane and told her to drop everything at the office and get over to his estate. All he told her was that he was on his way back from Florida, and needed her to comfort Roz and oversee the twins. She had no idea why. She just did as she was told. It wasn’t until she arrived at the compound did she learn the truth. It wasn’t until she was told, by Roz herself, did she find out that Joey’s mother, that Cathleen Thomas, was dead.

  But if she was expecting her father to clue her in on the details, she was wasting her time. Mick had been in a state of perpetual urgency ever since he received that call from Deuce. Now he was hurrying into their master bedroom. When he didn’t see his wife, that sense of urgency overtook him again. Until he made his way into the master bath, and saw Roz opening the shower stall door.

  When Mick saw her, his heart felt all manner of relief and all manner of sadness, all at the same time. The shit she had to go through just because she was his wife. And the fact that he had signed off on her meeting with Cathleen, a meeting that could have resulted in her own death if she had not been super-observant, was on him. He bore the burden of what might have been. All the shit he did. All the horror he saw was nothing compared to the horror he felt when he received that phone call from Deuce. He hurried to Roz.

  Roz had expected him to at least let her get out of the shower first, but that wasn’t the case. And she was glad. Because she needed Mick at this hour. Cathleen’s death had a delayed effect on her. She didn’t expect it to affect her so profoundly, but it did. Not because of Cathleen. Her ass got what she deserved. But because of Joey. Poor Joey! When Mick got into that shower, with water suddenly saturating him, and pulled her into his arms, she sobbed. And that made it worst. Mick held on even tighter. Mick held onto Roz as if, by holding onto her, he co
uld be forgiven.

  “Why am I here?” Joey asked his big brother.

  “Dad’s on his way,” Teddy responded.

  “But a safe house, Teddy? Really? You and Dad treating me like I’m some fucking criminal? Like I did something wrong?”

  “Nobody said you did anything wrong,” Teddy said, “so settle your ass down. Dad’s on his way. He’ll answer all of your questions when he gets here.”

  They were in the living room of a safe house near Mick’s estate. Joey was antsy, walking around like a wounded animal, and Teddy was slouched on the couch watching him. It wasn’t about casting blame on Joey. It was about finding out what did he know, when did he know it, and, once he found out about his crazy-ass mama, protecting him from himself. Mick wasn’t sure how Joey was going to react when he heard the news.

  It would be several minutes later before the door was finally unlocked, and Mick walked in.

  “Dad!” Joey said and hurried to his father. He even hugged him like some kid, which didn’t help.

  Even Teddy shook his head. Joey was never going to grow the hell up. Then he looked at Mick when Joey embraced him. Mick looked damn uncomfortable, even though he was uncharacteristically dressed comfortably in a pair of jeans and a pullover knit shirt, looking even more muscular than he did in his suits. But it fit the occasion, Teddy thought. Everything seemed upside down. Cathleen tried to kill Roz, and Joey might have been involved. Teddy was praying that Joey wasn’t in on it, because if he was, and given their father, he just might end up like their brother Adrian.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Joey pleaded. “Teddy made me come with him to this safe house. Why? What happened? He wouldn’t let me use my cellphone or anything. He’s treating me like I’m some criminal, Dad, and I want to know why.”

  Mick stared at his son. He was in his early twenties, but was still a kid at heart. When Mick was that age he was a ruthless sonafabitch commanding an army of men. But Joey was still a kid. Mick was already convinced he had nothing to do with his mother’s little scheme, that he wasn’t clever enough to be involved in shit that deep. But Roz had been targeted for elimination. His wife had been targeted. He was leaving no stone unturned.

  “Sit down, son,” Mick said.

  Teddy had told Joey the same thing over and over, but it was only when Mick said so did Joey comply. And sat down on the couch beside his brother.

  Mick, surprising to both of them, didn’t sit in the chair in front of them. He sat, instead, on the couch beside Joey, sandwiching Joey in between himself and Teddy.

  And he didn’t mince words. “You phoned Rosalind and asked her to meet with your mother today.” Mick said it as a fact.

  Joey nodded. His father sat so close to him that their arms were touching. He smelled his father’s fragrance. He felt his father’s powerful presence. It was all heady for Joey. “I asked her to meet with Mom as a favor to me, yes,” he said. “And she said she would.”

  “Why did you ask this favor?” Mick asked.

  “Because Mom wanted to talk to her.”

  “Your mother asked you to set up this meeting?”

  Joey nodded again. “Yes, sir. Why? What happened? Is Roz alright? Is my mother alright?”

  In times like these Mick wished he had never had a single child ever. Because their pain became his pain. Their burdens became his burdens when he had too many already of his own. It was times like these when Mick still couldn’t believe he once neglected his children and barely saw them, or even picked up a telephone and called them. Now Joey, Teddy, and Gloria were as a part of him as Roz and the twins were. Maybe Joey a little more. He seemed to need him more than any of them. And now Joey’s only other source of support, his mother, was gone. “No,” he said to his son, “your mother is not alright.”

  Joey felt a lump constrict in his throat. He looked deep into his father’s expressive green eyes. He saw sadness there, and it scared him. “What happened?” he asked him. “Did she get hurt?”

  Even Joey knew he was asking a ridiculous question. The safe house. The fact that his big brother was by his side. The fact that his father was by his side. This shit wasn’t about his mother being injured. It was much worse than that.

  And Mick’s next words proved Joey’s very thought. “Your mother is dead, Joe,” Mick said.

  Joey expected his heart to drop. He expected that lump in his throat to constrict even more. But it didn’t happen. Mainly because his dad was at his side. But also because his mother, the one human being able to command great love and great hate within him, had been dying this death ever since Mick married Roz. “What happened?” he asked Mick.

  Teddy wanted to know too. Mick had told him the news, he told him that Cathleen had tried to kill Roz and ended up dead herself, but he didn’t tell him the details. He just told him to get his brother to the safe house, keep him there as a prisoner if he had to, and wait until he got there.

  “She attempted to poison your stepmother,” Mick said. “But her attempt failed.” And then Mick lied. “My men took her out,” he said.

  Teddy wanted to celebrate. And he would have if Cathleen wasn’t Joey’s mother. Because he knew, just as surely as they were sitting there, that the bitch had it coming.

  But Joey, naturally, Teddy thought, had questions. “She tried to poison Roz?” Joey asked his father. “Why would she try to poison Roz?”

  Teddy looked at Joey. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked him.

  When Mick didn’t respond, Joey looked away. He already knew the answer anyway. Hate. That was what drove his mother to do most of what she did. Pure hate.

  Joey looked at Mick. “And your men, you say, took her out?”

  “Yes,” Mick said. “But blame me. No one else. That shit she pulled down through the years, I should have iced her ass a long time ago.”

  Teddy couldn’t believe his father would say that. But then again, he did believe it. Mick was blunt no matter what.

  Joey knew it too. That was why he wasn’t shocked at all. “Is Roz okay?” he asked his father.

  Mick nodded. He appreciated Joey’s concern. “Yes, son,” he said. “Roz is fine.”

  But Joey continued to stare at his father. He remembered how his father took the blame for the killing of a gangster named Stone Cold D’Amato when it was Joey who had killed the guy. Was he taking the blame away from Roz too? “Is that what happened?” he asked him. “I have to know the truth, Dad.”

  Mick’s heart went out to his son. But he would have to kill him if he ever tried to get revenge on Rosalind, and he wasn’t about to go down that road again. “Yes,” he lied. “That’s what happened.”

  And just like Mick was sticking to the story that he was the one who took out Stone Cold D’Amato, he was sticking to the story that his men were the ones who took out Cathleen. Just as he protected Joey from those who wanted revenge for D’Amato’s death, he was protecting Roz from those, including his own son, who might get it in their minds to avenge Cathleen’s death. Mick protected his own.

  Joey suspected his father was lying. Teddy suspected it too. But instead of Joey feeling angry or bitter about it, he felt warmed by it. Mick was the only rock he’d ever had in his life. And what he loved most about that rock was the fact that it was unmovable. Mick didn’t give in to pressure. He didn’t give in to challenges. He only grew stronger. Joey wanted to be just like his Dad.

  But the thought of his mother’s death began to hurt him. That side of him that loved Cathleen with all his heart began to override that side that hated her hateful ways, and the pain came like a body blow. Joey sniffled. He fought to hold it in. He knew how much his father despised weakness.

  But when Mick looked over and saw the unshed tears in his son’s eyes, he didn’t see weakness at all. He saw a young man with a heart. And he pulled that young man into his big arms.

  Joey turned toward Mick, buried his face in his father’s thick chest, and cried. He cried like a baby.

  Teddy closed his e
yes and leaned his head back. He felt his kid brother’s agony as if it was his own. And then he felt his father’s hand reach out to him too, and pulled him into their embrace.

  And the three Sinatra men hugged and held onto each other as if they were holding onto the very bloodline that held them together. Mick was that bloodline. And Mick felt the burden of that ownership. Mick felt as if he, not Cathleen, not Cathleen’s antics, was the true source of all of their pain.

  But Mick also had another profound feeling. He felt as if Cathleen would not have been able to set that up on her own. She was all mouth. She would have needed somebody else to come up with such a scheme. One of those bastards he was avenging had undoubtedly recruited Cathleen just as Jake the Snake Vietti had recruited Henry Zigston. They were coming at Mick in untraditional ways that kept blowing up in their face. Eventually they were going to come at Mick in that traditional way they all were accustomed to. All-out war. And Mick knew he couldn’t fight that battle alone.

  Mick knew it was time.

  He needed the big guns.

  It was time for him to call in the Gabrinis and end this shit once and for all, before it really spiraled out of his control.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Now this is a first,” Tommy Gabrini said with a smile as he boarded Mick’s plane in Seattle and saw his kid brother, mob boss Sal Gabrini, and his cousin, casino owner Reno Gabrini, already reclining in the leather seats. It was two days after Cathleen’s death, and they were on their way to Philly. “We always travel in separate planes.”

  “Our own planes,” Reno said, agreeing. He was leaned back, with shades on, and with his eyes closed. “But you know your Uncle Mick. Nobody’s upstaging him. I would have preferred my own transportation, thank you, rather than traveling all the way to Philly in this shit bucket here.”