Mick Sinatra: Breaking My Heart

by Mallory Monroe

  “Really,” Zina said boldly, moving like a boxer. “I can beat your ass now. And you know why? Just because I can. I can beat your ass just because I can. You don’t want a piece of me.”

  Roz punched Zina again. Again, Zina fell straight onto her ass.

  But this time, instead of bouncing right back up, she began backing up, on same ass. “Okay, Roz, I was wrong, okay? Let’s not get carried away here.”

  “But that’s the thing,” Roz said, pulling Zina back up on her feet. “You played me for a chump. You played me for a fool. You sold our friendship up the creek for a dollar. A dollar! And you think I’m going to let you get away with that?”

  And Roz commenced to beating her ass. Just because she could.

  Frankie and Chase were sitting in the safe house when Mick walked in. Both, surprised by his unexpected visit, quickly rose to their feet. “Can we go now?” Chase asked him.

  “Where’s Joey?” Mick asked them.

  Frankie immediately began shaking his head. “Joey? How should we know? He took off after he stole your shipment.”

  “You stole my shipment,” Mick said matter-of-factly. “With an assist from Bulldog Valtone.”

  It was apparent to Mick that Amelia’s story checked out. He could see the guilt all over their faces. And he had to make a snap assessment. Chase would be the easier target, since he was a weakling to begin with, but Frankie would have more intel, since he was Joey’s second-in-command.

  Mick pulled out his gun, and to the shock of his men who had been guarding the twosome, put a bullet in Chase’s head. Chase, the shock still on his face, fell backwards.

  Mick then aimed his weapon at Frankie. “Where’s Joey?” he asked him again.

  Frankie, still amazed by what just happened to Chase, never dreamed he’d be in this position. Not in a million years did he dream he’d be staring down the barrel of a gun held by Mick Sinatra. It was over. These Sinatras were crazy! His only hope was mercy.

  He began to cry. “He made us take your guns,” he said. “He made us lie on Joey.”

  “Where’s my son?” Mick asked.

  But Frankie was shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

  Mick shot him in the shoulder. Frankie, stunned, turned sideways, as if he could avoid a bullet that had already released, and grabbed his shoulder.

  “Where’s Joey?” Mick asked again. He wasn’t bullshitting. Didn’t this punk realize that? “Where’s my son?”

  “He has him,” Frankie said quickly. “Valtone has him. We delivered Joey to him, and he gave us the guns.”

  “Where did he take him?”

  “I don’t know.” Frankie looked over at him. “I swear.”

  “Why did he take him?”

  “He said Joey was his insurance. That’s all I know.”

  Mick’s heart sank. The idea of his child in any hurt, harm, or danger terrified him.

  But when Frankie added, “he’s probably dead by now,” Mick’s anger returned.

  “You mean like you?” he asked and, gunshot after gunshot, made it happen.

  When Frankie was no longer wiggling for life, and was just another corpse on top of the corpse already down, Mick exhaled. And looked at his still-stunned men.

  “Clear out this mess,” he said, “and then hit the streets. I want Bulldog Valtone. He has my boy, and I want my child back. You find that bastard.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the guards echoed, and all of them in that house got busy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “How many children do you have, Roz?” Amelia asked her.

  She was back in the meeting room, with Charles standing guard. Amelia was seated at the table again, but Roz was sitting on the couch.

  “Five,” Roz said.

  Amelia smiled. “I knew you’d say that. You’re including Mick’s grown children. They’re almost your age, especially Teddy. Can’t possibly be your children. But I get your point. What’s in the bag?” Amelia asked her, glancing at the bag Roz had left on the table.

  Roz looked at her. “I thought you’d want to see a picture of your mother. That’s the picture Mick keeps in our bedroom.”

  Roz suddenly saw a look of fright on Amelia’s face. She apparently had never seen her mother’s picture before. She stared at the bag.

  “Take a look if you want,” Roz said.

  Amelia reached over and pulled the bag to her. But when she went to pull out the picture frame, there was a definite hesitancy. Roz and Charles both stared at her. Then she simply pulled the frame out as if she had no fear at all.

  But when she saw the picture in the frame, her reaction startled both of them. Amelia looked as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She placed her hand to her heart, and tears began to well-up in her eyes.

  Roz knew Amelia would get emotional, when she saw just how much she resembled her mother, but Charles was stunned. She seemed too ornery to cry, it seemed to him. But he understood why she would break down. She didn’t just bear a striking resemblance to their mother, but he also saw a lot of their mother’s mannerisms in her. If she turned out to be their enemy, he thought, it was going to be the hardest hit Mick ever took. Mick and their mother were extremely close. Mick had to feel some kind of special way whenever he laid eyes on Amelia.

  The front door opened as Amelia continued to look at the picture, and Mick walked in. Roz rose, and went to him, and Charles looked over too. But Charles remained on guard. They still didn’t know this woman, even though they were certain of her lineage.

  “What did they tell you?” Roz asked. “Do they know where Joey is?”

  “Frankie claims Valtone has him.”

  Roz’s heart dropped. “Oh, no,” she said.

  But Mick was suddenly distracted by a crying Amelia. He walked over to her. When he saw the picture in her hands, the picture of his beautiful mother, he didn’t know what to do. He was angry, and sad, and hurt. Deeply hurt. He didn’t know why, but he was. He snatched the picture from her grasp.

  Roz wanted to run to him, and explain how Amelia had never seen a picture of their mother before, but she held her ground. Mick, she decided, knew what he was doing.

  “Where does he have him?” Mick asked Amelia.

  It was only then, when Mick snatched that picture and spoke, did Amelia even realize he was back in the house. “What?” she asked.

  “Where does your husband have my son?”

  “I didn’t know he had him,” she said. “I didn’t know anything about that.”

  “You knew everything else,” Mick said.

  “But I didn’t know that.”

  “You’re lying,” Mick said.

  Roz walked over to the table too. Charles was staring at Mick.

  “I told you everything I know,” Amelia said. “Why would I hold that one thing back?”

  “Because it’s the one thing that can liberate you.”

  Charles walked over to Mick too. “What are you talking about, Michello?” he asked.

  “Frankie said Valtone snatched Joey for insurance. I was thinking okay, he snatched Joey just in case he needed a bargaining chip.”

  “Right,” Charles said.

  “Or,” Mick continued, “just in case Amelia did.” Mick looked at her. “Snatching Joey was your idea, wasn’t it?”

  But before she could answer, Roz’s cellphone rang. Roz looked at the Caller ID. It was her secretary, Teegan. Roz placed her on Speaker. “I can’t talk right now, Tee,” she said as soon as she answered.

  “A man just called here,” Teegan said in an anxious voice. “He said his name is Angus Valtone.”

  Mick snatched the phone from Roz’s grasp. “What did he want?”

  “He wanted me to tell Roz to call him. He said he has her stepson. He left a phone number.”

  Roz hurried grabbed a pad and pen and quickly took the number down as Teegan relayed it. “Thanks, Tee,” she yelled over the Speaker, and then Mick ended the call.

  “You know it?” Mick
asked Amelia.

  But Amelia was still reeling from his accusation. “Yes,” she said mildly.

  “Why would he phone Roz’s office?” Charles asked.

  “Our home phone nor cellphones are listed,” Mick responded as he used Roz’s phone and keyed in the number. “And there’s too many layers he would have to go through to be able to leave a message for me.” They all waited nervously, as the phone on the other end rang and rang.

  Finally, a pickup. “This is Valtone,” the voice on the other end said. Amelia cringed when she heard that voice again.

  “This is Mick Sinatra,” Mick said. “What do you want?”

  “I want my wife,” Valtone said. “My wife for your son.”

  It was now confirmed, they all thought. Valtone did indeed have Joey. They all were hopeful, but knew the danger.

  “When and where?” Mick asked.

  “Now,” Valtone said. “The same place you took her from.”

  Mick didn’t like that location, but he would have to figure it out. “Okay.”

  “Come now,” Valtone said. “If you don’t arrive with my wife in thirty minutes, your son is dead.”

  “Proof of life, Mick,” Charles said quickly to his brother.

  “Let me talk to him,” Mick said to Valtone. “I need proof you have him.”

  There was a pause. Then Joey’s voice shocked them all. “It’s me, Dad,” he said.

  Roz leaned against Mick. Mick held the phone with both hands. “Are you alright? Have they injured you in any way?”

  “I’m alright,” Joey said. “No injuries. But Frankie’s lying, Dad. I never touched that shipment. Valtone paid them to lie on me.”

  “Give me that phone!” It was Valtone, angrily taking the phone from Joey. “He’s alive,” Valtone said to Mick. “Now let me talk to my wife.”

  Roz looked at Mick. Mick handed Amelia the phone.

  “I’m okay,” Amelia said, and handed the phone back to Mick.

  “She’ll be there,” Mick said. “See to it that my son’s there too.”

  “You have thirty minutes,” Valtone said, “or he’s dead.” And Valtone ended the call.

  Amelia, wiping away tears with her fingers, stood up.

  “Get her in the car,” Mick said to Charles.

  “What’s the plan?” Charles asked.

  “We’ll have to figure it out on our way there,” said Mick. “I don’t want Joey hurt.” Then he glanced at Amelia. “Her either. But we’re dealing with a clever man. He’s given us no time to do anything but get there.”

  “I say you change the terms,” Amelia suggested. “Make him wait. To my husband, you have the greater bargaining chip. He wants me back desperately.”

  “He has my son,” Mick said, offended. “To me, he has the greater bargaining chip. I want my son back desperately.” Then Mick exhaled. “We don’t have time. Let’s go.”

  Charles took Amelia by the arm and began to escort her out. But Amelia, to Mick’s shock, stopped their progression and reached for their mother’s picture.

  Mick looked at her. And she looked from the picture, to him. And Mick realized, right then and there, that she had a right to it too.

  He handed it to her. As their hands touched, she brushed a finger across his. They looked into each other’s eyes again. And then she and Charles walked out.

  Mick looked at Roz. “Tell Teddy I want Gloria and the twins in the safe room until he hears from me,” he said, as they began walking toward the door. “You’re in charge. You have the final say. Teddy knows that.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” Roz said as they walked swiftly out of the door. “We’ll be fine.”

  “And tell Teddy to contact our men in the Outskirts safe house, and have them release Angelo.”

  Roz nodded. “Will do.”

  He looked at her. “How did it go with Zina Klein? Did she admit her involvement?”

  “She had no choice. She admitted it. I already called Teegan and told her she’s fired and isn’t allowed back in my building.”

  “Motherfucker,” Mick said. He hated disloyal people. “You beat her ass I hope.”

  “I’m a lady, Mick,” Roz said. “Ladies don’t fight.”

  “You beat her ass I hope,” Mick said again, staring at her as they walked. He was serious as a heart attack. He didn’t ever want Roz to show weakness toward an enemy.

  “I beat her ass,” Roz said.

  Mick relaxed again. But only just long enough to kiss her goodbye and leave. Once inside the SUV with Charles and Amelia, he tensed right back up.

  Bulldog Valtone was already at the scene when Mick’s SUV drove up. Valtone was leaned against his Town car, with his Driver and an additional bodyguard standing too, when the SUV drove about fifty feet away, and parked. Mick and Charles got out of the SUV and stayed where they stood.

  “Where’s Amelia?” Valtone asked. Mick could hear the desperation in his voice.

  “Where’s my son?” Mick asked.

  “You hand over Amelia. I’ll hand over your son.”

  Mick stood there momentarily. His men were further away, ensuring that there would be no sabotage from any rooftops or from any window openings. But right here, on this narrow street in South Philly, they were on their own.

  Mick nodded to Charles and Charles opened the back-passenger door. Amelia stepped out.

  Valtone nodded at his bodyguard, and the guard opened the back-passenger door. Joey, looking exhausted but otherwise okay, stepped out too. Mick’s heart soared when he saw his son again. Flaws and all.

  “Try anything,” Mick yelled across the fifty feet separation to Valtone, “and she’s a dead woman.”

  “Try anything,” Valtone yelled back, “and he’s a dead man.”

  And with that, both men nodded, and Amelia began walking toward Valtone’s Town car, as Joey began walking toward his father’s SUV.

  Tears were in Amelia’s eyes as she walked toward Valtone. She felt as if she was at a crossroads for the first time in her life. She felt as if she was either on her way to liberation, or back to that emotional prison again. And, to her shame, and in tribute to her destructive and dysfunctional lifestyle, she didn’t know which one was preferable.

  But then something suddenly changed. Even Mick felt it. It happened when he noticed the fact that Amelia didn’t have that picture of their mother she seemed to cherish. She left it in his car. But then, it was Amelia herself. He felt something change within her. And he was right.

  Amelia pulled out a gun. A tiny J-Frame Mick didn’t even know she had. And she lifted her gun, as he and Charles reached for theirs, and put a bullet, not through Joey’s skull as they had feared, but through Bulldog Valtone’s heart. Right through the center.

  And Mick, astounded, responded swiftly. “Drop!” he yelled to Joey as he and Charles drew their weapons and stooped into a defensive pose. Joey immediately obeyed and fell to the ground.

  Valtone’s driver and bodyguard were pulling out their weapons, too, ready to counterattack, but Mick and Charles were already discharging theirs. Amelia ducked too, as they took out the two men easily.

  But when the shooting stopped, she remained down, staring at the man she called her husband. She was staring at his lifeless body.

  Then she made a decision. The bullet in Valtone’s head already necessitated that her decision was certain. She stood up, helped her nephew to his feet, and then walked, with Joey, back to her big brothers.

  EPILOGUE

  Opening night on Broadway and Rosalind Graham-Sinatra killed it. Never had a reinterpretation of Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night been fed with such loving care as this latest revival managed to accomplish. Sinatra’s portrayal of Mary Tyrone, the aging matriarch with the drug addiction problem, gave life to that character in ways Katharine Hepburn, the Grande Dame of Mary Tyrone interpretations, would envy. Sinatra owned the stage. Her presence, her command of every scene, was breathtaking. And not just her: everybody shined. From
her supporting cast, to the director’s cues and the set decorations, last night’s production was a tour de force.

  “Shall I go on?” Mick asked gleefully as they sat up in bed inside the presidential suite of his New York hotel, and basked in the reviews.

  “No need,” Roz said modestly. But when Mick immediately began putting the papers aside, she looked at him. “What are you doing? Keep going.”

  Mick laughed. “Okay,” he said, pulling up another newspaper.

  “Just kidding,” Roz said with a grin, and leaned against her husband. She was in bathrobe, as was Mick, and was sipping ginger tea to calm her near-hoarse voice.

  Mick tossed the newspapers on the other side of the big bed and placed his arm around his wife. She snuggled against him. “You did great, babe,” he said. “The toast of Broadway, just as I predicted.”

  “It would have never happened if it wasn’t for you,” Roz said. “That’s for sure.”

  “It should have happened a long time ago,” Mick said firmly. “If racism and ageism and all those other isms wasn’t a cancer in this town, you would have been the toast of Broadway before you ever met me. You have what it takes, Rosalind. Even I can see that.”

  “Did you see Amelia?” Roz asked. “She dropped by my dressing room before everybody else started arriving.”

  Mick looked at her. “I didn’t know she was in the theater. I reserved a seat for her in our box, but she never showed. What did she say?”

  “She congratulated me, of course, and talked about my performance a little. She said she took a journey to Africa, to get accustomed to her new freedom, but that she was back home now. She asked about you.” Roz looked at Mick. “She said she want to get to know you better but doesn’t know how. She doesn’t think you trust her.”

  “I have trust issues these days,” Mick said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “My sons, my daughter, they all have their own agendas. They all want to test the waters to see if I’ll bite.”

  “Bite?” Roz asked. “You don’t bite, you eat and swallow. I don’t know why they keep pushing that envelope.”

  “They believe they’re entitled,” Mick said, “simply because they’re my kids. I’m about to give new responsibilities to Teddy, and Gloria and Joey wants to move up the ranks too. Now Amelia wants in. I’m a long way from trust with any of them. Especially with Amelia. But time will tell if we get there. But I won’t close the door. I’m praying we get there.”