“She’s in the cafeteria,” Tangley said, then looked at Brent. “I’m sorry, sir, but she’s the one he has.”
“The one he has?” Jenay asked. “What does that mean?”
“Your daughter is the hostage,” Tangley said bluntly, and Jenay nearly fell where she stood. Charles placed his arm around her waist, barely holding up himself. “Good Lord,” he said.
“We’re just now clearing the last of the students out of the entire school,” Tangley said. “Except for the children in the cafeteria. He’ll let them go, he said, when you arrive. But he’s not letting little Bonita go.”
Brent began heading toward the cafeteria near the back of the school. Tangley, Eddie, and Charles and Jenay followed him. “Who is he?” Brent asked as he moved. “Do we know him?”
“It’s Clem, sir. The gunman is Clem Michaels.”
“Who the hell is Clem Michaels?” Charles asked.
“A former cop,” Eddie said. “Brent fired him a long time ago. Years ago.”
“Why would he hold our daughter hostage?” Jenay asked. “We don’t even know him!”
“But Brent fired him,” Eddie said. “And Bonita is his baby sister. He’s out for revenge.”
Charles held onto Jenay even tighter. He could hear her heartbeat pounding, even as his was pounding too. But when they arrived at the cafeteria door, a door surrounded by police, Brent turned toward his parents and told them to wait upfront.
“No way,” Charles said. “That’s my baby in there. My child. I’m going in too.”
“And so am I,” Jenay said.
“No way,” Brent said. “Now I mean it.”
“I don’t care what you mean, Brent. That’s my baby! I’m going in too!”
Brent looked at Tangley. “Take her up front. Handcuff her if you have to.”
“What?” Jenay asked, astounded, as Tangley began to approach her. “Charles, don’t let them keep me away from Nita! That’s my child too!”
“You touch her,” Charles said to Tangley, “and I’ll break every bone in your body.” Then he took Jenay’s hand and pulled out his own private gun. He looked at Brent. “I’ll look out for her,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Brent knew this was against every protocol written, but he also knew his father. If anybody was capable of taking care of Jenay, it was Charles.
“How are we communicating?” Brent asked Eddie.
“How are we communicating, Tang?” Eddie asked Tangley.
“Phone, sir,” Tangley said, pointing to a room across the hall. “We have a phone connection from inside the cafeteria.”
“Get him on the line,” Brent said, and one of the uniformed officers hurried to the side room, and returned with a cordless phone.
“He’s on now, sir,” the officer said.
“Clem?” Brent said into the phone. “I understand you want to talk to me.”
“Come in,” Clem said.
“You’ve got to release the kids first.”
“You come in, they can go out.”
“Including my sister. Then we can talk man-to-man.”
“I’m not stupid. You think I am, but I’m not. I’ll release everybody except your sister. That’s the deal.”
Brent pinched his forehead. “I’m coming in,” he said, and ended the call.
“Brent, wait,” Jenay said, pulling him back, terrified for him too. “What if you open that door and he shoots you on sight? What if he shoots you first?”
“Then he’ll be a dead motherfucker second,” Charles said. “Let’s go.”
Brent looked at his parents, and then he looked at Eddie. Eddie understood. As soon as Brent opened the cafeteria door and walked in, Eddie closed it and he and Tangley stood in front of it. Like prison guards.
“Sorry, folks, but this is police business now,” Eddie said to Charles and Jenay.
But Charles, astounded that they would try some trick like this with him, handed Jenay his gun. Then he grabbed Eddie by the catch of his suit coat, lifted him, and threw him across the hall. A monitor’s desk broke in two as he landed on it, but it also broke his fall. When Charles looked at Tangley, it was enough. Tangley stepped aside. Then Jenay handed Charles back his gun and they both were about to enter the cafeteria, with Jenay behind Charles, but just as the doors opened, a roomful of students and teachers came rushing out. But there was no sign of Clem. Nor little Bonita, to her parents’ dismay.
“Clem, show yourself,” Brent called out again as the students and teachers ran out. “Where are you, Clem?”
It took several more seconds, but then Clem stepped out from behind a partition. Bonita Sinatra, Brent’s ten-year-old, biracial sister, was with him. He had a gun to her head, but she wasn’t crying. But when Brent saw her, he almost went weak-kneed. He stopped in his tracks.
Charles and Jenay didn’t realize why Brent had suddenly stopped, as they were just able to fully enter the cafeteria. Until they saw Clem too. And their little girl. Their hearts sank. Charles immediately moved Jenay further behind him, while Brent, with gun in hand, moved forward.
“Stay right where you are, Brent,” the gunman said, “or I’ll kill her. I swear I will!”
Brent stopped his movement, but he didn’t put down his gun. “Put the gun down, Clem,” he said. “Put it down. No good is going to come of this.”
“No good?” Clem sounded stunned. “You ruined my life and you’re telling me about what’s good? You Sinatras walk around this town like y’all own the earth. Your daddy own everything in sight, you own the police department, and I can’t pay my rent! What makes y’all better than me? You ruined me!”
Brent looked at his sister. He allowed Clem to vent because his every thought was on getting his sister out of this unharmed.
“Jo left me,” Clem continued. “I loved her so much. I did everything for her. That’s why I got into that fight with Eddie Rivers. It was because of her and how he disrespected her. He called my wife Jo the Ho! I loved her and she left me, Brent!”
“She left you?” Brent asked, but only to buy time. He knew Clem Michaels. He knew how self-absorbed he was. If the focus remained on him and his problems, he wouldn’t see it coming. “Why did she leave you?” Brent asked him.
“Why do you think? I had nothing to offer her. You fired me and changed everything. She left me, what difference does it make why?” Clem was near tears. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me, but she couldn’t take it either.”
As Clem continued talking, Brent looked into Bonita’s terrified eyes. Although Bonita was only ten, she was a smart and perceptive young lady. Brent was depending on it. Because he needed her to understand. He needed her to forget about fear and focus on him. Clem was going to kill her if she didn’t understand. That was why he looked toward the left side of her, and then back at her, as Clem talked. And then he did it again. He looked toward the left side of her, and back at her. Again and again. Until little Bonita nodded.
“Nobody would hire me,” Clem continued talking. “Nobody would give me a chance to earn a decent living, how was I going to take care of my family right? Jo did all she could, but she could only get nothing jobs too. I was tainted because of you. And I tainted her. Year after year I couldn’t get anything going. You took everything away from me. My wife. My home. My job. My life.” His look changed, and Brent knew it was now or never. “Now it’s my time to take away from you,” he said, and cocked the pistol he had at Bonita’s head.
As soon as he did, Bonita moved her head to the left as far as she could, and Brent fired. One shot. Dead in Clem’s forehead. Clem’s eyes rolled back, and then he and his weapon fell back.
The police hurried in at the sound of the gunshot while Charles and Jenay ran to Bonita, refusing to stop until they had her in their arms. Bonita ran into their arms in tears. Charles lifted her up, but Jenay was holding her too.
Brent hurried to Clem. He leaned down and felt his pulse. He was dead.
Charles and Jenay might have
glanced at Clem, to make sure he could not harm their daughter again, but Bonita had their undivided attention. “Are you alright?” Charles was asking his daughter as she switched over to her mother and Jenay was now holding her. He was looking her up and down and all over her beautiful brown face as if the bullet could have grazed her somehow.
“I’m okay, Daddy,” Bonita kept saying. “He didn’t hurt me. Brent told me what to do.”
Jenay and Charles looked at each other. They didn’t recall any warnings from Brent, but they didn’t care at this point. They were just grateful to God that their daughter was okay.
Brent went up to his kid sister too. She moved from her parents and jumped into his arms. Brent lifted her up.
“Did I do it right, sir?” she asked him. Although Brent was her big brother, they had a huge age difference: a whopping twenty-six years. She thought of him as her second father.
Brent was smiling. “You did it perfectly,” he said. “You did it exactly right, sweetheart.”
“Who is he?” she asked him.
Brent looked at his fallen former employee, and exhaled. “He used to be a cop.”
“One of yours?”
Brent nodded. “One of mine.”
Brent always felt diminished after any man’s death, even scum like Clem. But he looked at Bonita. She was alright. He knew he did what he had to do. “Thanks for moving to the left,” he said to her.
“Thanks for being a great shot,” she said to him.
And even in the midst of that horrible scene, Brent laughed. And then handed her back to their parents, who were still thanking God Almighty for protecting their child.
As he stood there and watched them, and watched his men secure the crime scene, he couldn’t help but think about what would soon face him. Makayla was moving to Jericho and their relationship was moving to that proverbial next level. Someday he was going to be a husband and father too. He would have his own little Bonita. And as he watched his parents carry his baby sister far away from the hellishness that was Brent’s daily job, it was a heady thought. Charles Sinatra was the head of the Sinatra family. But Brent was going to have his own family, and he was going to be the head of them. Makayla and any children they had were going to be his sole and complete responsibility. And the thought of it, the thought that she was going to be his family, made him feel responsible for her right now. She was his family right now.
It could not have been clearer that evening, after securing the crime scene and interviewing tons of witnesses, and then being interviewed for hours himself by Internal Affairs, and he made his way back home. To his shock and pleasant surprise, Makayla’s car was parked in his driveway and Makayla herself was sitting on his front porch. He was smiling from ear to ear when he stepped out of his truck. “When did you get here?”
“A few minutes ago. Hope I’m not intruding.”
“You’re intruding,” Brent said joyfully as he walked up the steps. “Get out now.”
Makayla laughed. “Make me,” she said, rising to her feet, and Brent lifted her into his arms. And kissed her long and passionately.
And then it was all seriousness for them, because Makayla sensed his anguish. “I heard about it on the news. I had to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m okay,” Brent said.
“How’s Bonita?”
“You know her. It’ll take more than a gunman to steal her joy. She’s fine.”
Makayla felt faint. “My Lord. What is going on? Everything seems to be unraveling before our very eyes. I announce I’m coming to Jericho to live, and all hell breaks loose.”
Brent smiled. “I’m sure you’re not responsible for any hell breaking loose.” He stared into her beautiful eyes. “It’s not possible. Not somebody as sweet as you are. Thank-you for coming.”
“I couldn’t stay away. I haven’t seen you for two whole days.”
Brent laughed, feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders just from Makayla’s presence alone. Makayla laid her head on that same shoulder, as he carried her inside.
CHAPTER TEN
He was an animal in bed. That was how Makayla felt when Brent was relieving stress with his fuck. And he was relieving it big time as his cock kept pushing inside of her narrow opening and forcing his way through. She was sitting on top of him, and he was grunting and sucking her breasts as she inched down further and further until he was all in. And then it was all on.
Brent eventually took over. He eventually moved her onto her back, got on top himself, and moved his penis inside of her in a way that caused both of them to close their eyes as the heat of his movements absorbed them. When Makayla opened her eyes, and looked up at her man, he was so heavy-lidded that she could barely see his eyeballs. And his eyelashes were so long and flowing, eyelashes that almost looked girlie on a face so masculine, left him appearing closed-eyed even though his eyes were open.
But it was all in the feeling. Because she could relate. She was feeling it too. He was pushing into her, and impaling her with a dick so thick that she could feel every vein. This was Brent at his highest erection. This was Brent on the verge of losing all control. She closed her eyes because, when it happened, when he took her there, she knew it was going to be a hard, exciting, exhilarating ride.
Brent knew he was coming close to that edge again. He looked down at Makayla as he continued to fuck her with steady, rhythmic strokes. He was still squeezing into her tight space so hard, and for such a prolonged period of time, that his ass was sweating from the exertion.
But it felt so good. He could never describe how good it felt when he was inside of Makayla. No other woman made him feel this way. It was like floating and flying and then being stroked in midair, and in all the right places. Because Makayla’s pussy was stroking him. Her vagina had him enclosed in a place only she could take him to.
He leaned down, and began kissing her with a hard, passionate kiss, as she took him there. He held her, and kissed her, and fucked her so long and so hard that he felt emboldened. He wanted to hold on. He wanted to keep them in this safe, beautiful, relaxing place. But when her soft fingers began to run through his hair, and her pussy began to clench around his cock like wire tightening its grip, he lost his grip. And that other side of Mister Cool Brent Sinatra, that side Makayla knew so well and couldn’t wait to experience again, came out.
Brent’s cock became a weapon of mass destruction. Because he was destroying her peace. He couldn’t be relaxed now. They couldn’t take it slow and easy now. Because he was hitting it hard. He was pounding into her and with such ferocity that she found herself screaming out in uncontrollable joy.
“Yes!” she cried. “Do it baby! Do it baby, do it!”
And Brent did it. “Like that?” he asked her as he thrashed into her. “Like that?” he asked as he put it on her even harder and rougher.
And she took it. She loved it! She didn’t want it nice and easy. A nice and easy man bored the shit out of her in bed. But Brent gave it hard and rough.
And he gauged her ability to take it. He looked down upon her to see just how far he could take her. Because even in the midst of his ferocity, he was restraining the full extent of how much he could put on her. She could endure a lot of it, but he knew she wasn’t ready for all of it.
But she was begging for it. “Go all the way, Brent!” she cried. “Go all the way!”
And Brent pounded her, harder and harder. He felt her, deeper and deeper. Every muscle in his body was straining as he put it on her. He was going there. He was on the brink of crossing over. But as he looked at her, and felt the love he had for her, he couldn’t do it. It would be pleasurable beyond pleasurable for both of them, but it would be a very painful pleasure for her.
That was why, for her sake, he steadied himself. He laid down on top of her, pulled her into his arms, and fucked her without losing all control. He made love to her with love.
And when she came, when she felt sensations that had her shaki
ng from their intensity, she knew he was giving her his all. His loving all. Her legs were around his neck, as she opened herself up wider and wider and he fucked her into a place of cries of delight and sensual spasms. How could this man be this intense every single time he made love to her? She could hardly believe how wonderful he made her feel. And this time was the best yet. She would pay for it later. Her body always felt as if it had been beaten when Brent finished with her. But it was an easy price to pay, compared to the reward.
And then it was Brent’s turn. When Brent could not hold on a second longer and let it rip, he tore through her with a thunderous outpouring. She could feel the ripples of his epic release so completely that she came again. And as he continued to strain and grunt and pour out, and as he continued to do her, she couldn’t stop cumming. It was as if all of the craziness around them was being swallowed up, like a genie in a bottle, and poured into her.
Brent couldn’t stop pouring, inside and out. Even his face was feeling it as sweat dropped from his eyelashes and onto Makayla’s beautiful face. He placed his hands on either side of her face, as he came. She was going to be Mrs. Brenton Sinatra, his wife, and the mother of his children. He never thought he wanted a wife and children. Until he met Makayla. Now he was looking forward to it.
He kissed her, as he went down deep inside of her, and squeezed out the last of his cum. And he was overwhelmed. He was overwhelmed by the simple beauty, that matchless simplicity, of having the woman he loved in his arms.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bobby Sinatra, Brent’s younger brother, felt like a million bucks as he partied hard with his lady. They were at Roulette, the hippest club in town, and Bobby was the man of the hour. She could have chosen any man she wanted. She was just that hot. But of all the good looking guys in Jericho, of all the choices she could have made, Kaci Keith, the most beautiful and unobtainable woman in town, the woman Bobby had admired from afar since high school, the daughter of the town’s mayor, chose him to be her man. Him. Bobby Sinatra. A bad boy playboy, not some airheaded rich jock like the guys she had been known to favor. But she dumped her jocks and picked up Bobby, and they’d been an item for four months now.
Brent Sinatra: All of Me Page 8