Mick Sinatra: The Harder They Fall (9 page)

“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.

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.