Mick Sinatra 2: Love, Lies, and Jericho

by Mallory Monroe

  “Yes, sir,” Robert responded. “He’s inside. I’m sorry you had to get involved, but he just won’t listen to reason and the cops are pretty useless. I didn’t even bother calling them. He wants us to give him more time to get up the money.”

  “His time is out,” Charles said as he began walking toward the back of his truck. “He knows that.”

  Charles grabbed his rifle out of the back of his truck. Mick was surprised. Charles had always been such a law and order man, he couldn’t imagine him taking matters into his own hands.

  But that was exactly what he appeared to be doing as they made their way toward the front steps of the farmhouse. Then Charles seemed to think about something, and glanced back at Mick. “This could get ugly,” he said. “You might want to wait in the truck.”

  Robert grinned. “Dad!”

  Mick smiled too. “I think I can manage,” he said.

  “Sure?” Charles asked.

  “Positive,” Mick replied.

  “Suit yourself,” Charles said, and continued to walk toward the front porch.

  Mick glanced over at the barn. Still standing, but barely. He remembered how pretty those Cunningham girls used to be, with their red hair and freckles, and how often he was in that barn banging them. But then the front door of the farmhouse opened, and a tall man with his own rifle stepped out, and his trip down memory lane slammed into reality again. Those fond memories were gone.

  “Don’t come any closer, Big Daddy,” the man warned, “or you won’t live to regret it.”

  “Time for you to go, Earl,” Charles responded as they stopped at the top of the steps. They were within inches of the big man, but Charles didn’t seem to mind. “You’ve been served. You’ve been evicted. You’re getting off of my property today.”

  “I told you I was gonna catch up,” Earl said. “I told you once I get that settlement---”

  But Charles wasn’t interested. “Settlement my ass,” he said. “I heard that song before, again and again, and it has never happened. Now you’re too far behind to catch up. You’ve got to leave now.”

  But Earl was defiant. “Nope,” he said.

  Robert frowned. “What do you mean nope?” he asked.

  “I’m not leaving! This is my land. And nobody’s forcing me off of it.”

  Mick was astounded by the man’s arrogance. His land?

  Robert wasn’t astounded at all. He and his father were accustomed to the arrogance of their deadbeat tenants. But he wasn’t about to let the comment slide. “This is not your land,” he made clear. “This is my daddy’s land. And they don’t call him Big Daddy for nothing, Earl. Not for nothing. You need to get your things and get out of here before you understand the full meaning of that nickname.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere,” Earl said, still defiant. “He don’t scare me.” Then he pointed his rifle.

  “Don’t do this, Earl,” Charles said. “You need to just leave.”

  “Make me, Big Daddy. You’re so big and bad. I dare you to make me move. Hell, I dare you to make me move from the spot where I’m standing, you yellowbelly fart!”

  Before Earl could appreciate what was happening, Mick grabbed the rifle from his hand, butted him in the face with the handle and knocked him on his ass. Then he stood over Earl and pointed his own weapon pointblank at his face. “I just moved you,” Mick said. “What will you do about it now?”

  Robert grinned. He was amazed at Mick’s agility and quickness. But Charles was alarmed. He moved Mick back and reached for that rifle. “It’s just a house,” he said. “It’s not worth dying over.”

  Mick knew a guy like this could spell trouble in the future, but it wasn’t his lane. He didn’t have to live here, Charles did. He stepped back and allowed Charles to take the rifle.

  Earl was so stunned and scared that he scooted back before standing up.

  “Get out of here while you still can,” Charles warned him.

  “I’m going. Keep that guy away from me!”

  “Then leave,” Robert said.

  “What about my stuff?”

  “It’ll be out on the side of the road later today,” Robert told him. “Come back then.”

  “What about my rifle?”

  “Because you threatened us with it,” Charles said, “I’m turning it over to Brent. Get it from him.”

  Earl stared at Mick again, and then took off down the steps, got into his own beat up Ford pickup, and took off too.

  Charles and Robert looked at Mick.

  “I told you I can manage,” Mick said.

  Robert laughed. Charles shook his head, and headed back to the truck.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  At the Sinatra home in Jericho County, Jenay and Roz were setting the dining room table. Unlike Mick’s palatial estate in Philly, this home was tame, almost small and dainty in comparison. But in context, however, it was the largest home in town.

  “It’s just strange seeing him with his brother,” Roz said as she and Jenay sat down plates and forks and spoons for the big brood that was scheduled to come. “It was very awkward at first.”

  “They’ll work it out,” Jenay said. “Charles is a stubborn mule and I suspect Mick is too.”

  Roz smiled. “You suspect right.”

  “But they’ll work it out,” Jenay said. “The love is still there.”

  “I was hoping it was,” Roz said, “but now I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. Mick doesn’t allow anybody to backtalk him, and that includes me. And he doesn’t take a backseat to any man. But he takes a backseat to your husband.”

  Jenay laughed. “Everybody takes a backseat to my husband,” she said. But then, as they finalized the setting, Jenay turned serious. She looked at Roz. “It’s not going to be easy,” she warned her. “Sinatra men can be very unbendable.”

  Roz smiled. “I certainly know of one who can.”

  “But . . .”

  Roz looked at her. “But what?”

  Jenay wasn’t going to mince words. “From what Charles has told me of Mick, he has that Sinatra toughness on steroids. He’s going to be even more of a challenge for you.”

  Roz’s smile faded. She understood what Jenay meant. “I know. And it has been challenging.”

  “Even before the marriage?”

  “Even before the proposal,” Roz admitted.

  “Please don’t think it’s going to get easier after the marriage,” Jenay said. “Because it’s not.”

  Roz nodded. “Mick has already schooled me on that. That’s why I went to Philly in the first place. I was living and working in New York, but he felt I needed to see for myself what kind of lifestyle he lives, and how he handles that lifestyle.”

  “Is it legal and illegal?”

  “I don’t discuss his business,” Roz said bluntly. “But you’re right about the challenge.”

  “You’re sure you can live with that challenge?” Jenay asked.

  “I’m not losing Mick,” Roz made clear. “So I guess that means yes. I can live with it. I know what I’m getting myself into.”

  Jenay suspected Roz didn’t know the full extent of it. From what she read about Mick, and seeing him in person, made her certain there was a lot more to his story than anybody knew. But she had respect for Roz. She couldn’t say that Roz could handle Mick, she hadn’t seen enough of their interaction to make such a bold statement as that, but she believed Mick wasn’t going to simply handle Roz. He would be in charge of her. He had that take charge persona in spades. But Jenay didn’t think Roz was the kind of girl that would lose herself in her man. At least, Jenay hoped she wasn’t the type. “Hold your own no matter what,” she decided to warn Roz anyway. “Strong men only respond to strength. Never forget that.”

  Roz nodded. She wasn’t certain what Jenay meant by that, but Jenay was the older, more experienced woman. And Charles “Big Daddy” Sinatra looked like a handful and a half himself. So Roz gave her the benefit of the doubt. Jenay, she believed, knew what she was talking abou
t.

  Mick and Roz felt as if they were on display as they sat in the beautiful living room and met Charles and Jenay’s children as they arrived for dinner.

  First, there was Brent Sinatra, his bosomy wife Makayla, and his young son Brent, Junior. What amused Mick was how all three of them sat in one chair: Brent in the chair itself, his African-American wife on the chair’s arm, and Junior on his father’s lap. It was as if Brent had told them to stay close to him, until he got a sense of just who this Mick Sinatra really was.

  First it was the usual niceties: small talk all around. And then Mick leaned back. This guy fascinated him. “So you’re the chief of police?” he asked him.

  Roz, who had been preoccupied with Junior, looked at Brent. “The police chief?” she asked. “You’re the police chief?”

  “Believe it or not, I am. And Makayla’s the chief prosecutor here in town. She’s the District Attorney.”

  Roz glanced at Mick. She knew how much Mick hated cops, and wasn’t crazy about lawyers either. She looked back at Brent. “You guys cover the law and order of the business,” she said. “How nice.”

  “Nice my ass,” Mick said, and everybody laughed.

  “Don’t worry,” Brent added with a smile. “I stick to my jurisdiction. You’re safe here, Uncle Mick. I don’t go to Philly tracking anybody down.”

  Mick laughed. “Bring your ass to Philly if you want to,” he said. “You won’t like it.”

  Although Brent and Makayla both laughed at that little joke, Roz could tell they were a little uneasy too.

  Then Charles’s other three sons, Anthony, Robert, and Donald, arrived together, just as they were all sitting down to dinner.

  And at dinner, when everybody was around the table, Roz understood why she was so quick to believe that Jenay ran the Sinatra household. The children, her husband, their grandchild, all responded to her as if she was the final arbiter. And although none of the grown children were her biological children, as they were all a product of Charles’s first marriage, Roz found out, but Jenay still had clout. Charles was the final word, that was clear too, but the way Roz saw it, they could only get to Charles through Jenay.

  Tony was the next oldest of Charles’s grown children. They discovered that he was a clinical psychologist by trade, and a local radio personality. He and Roz hit it off right away. Mick found Tony’s slick sense of humor a little too disarming for his taste and kind of kept his distance, but Roz didn’t see it that way at all. She saw an insightful man who danced to the beat of his own drum. She liked his uniqueness.

  Robert was the next child, and was obviously the playboy. He was getting more calls and texts than he could keep up with and had to constantly be reminded by Jenay that this was a family dinner that required his full participation.

  Donald, the youngest son, seemed like his polar opposite, as he was more quiet and introspective. He was by far the least outgoing of the Sinatra clan.

  Then there were the little ones. Charles and Jenay had one child together, little Bonita, and she was adorable. Brent, Junior, Brent’s son from a previous relationship, was equally charming. But Bonita stole the show, as she couldn’t stop telling Junior, who was older than she was, what to do. “I’m your auntie,” she kept saying. “You will obey me!”

  “What I don’t understand,” Tony said as they all sat around the big dinner table eating dinner, “is how you guys could stay apart for so long without getting in touch. I can’t imagine going decades without talking to my brothers. I can’t stand them sometimes,” he added to laughter from them, “but it’ll never get to that.”

  “If you had a brother like me,” Mick said breezily, “you would find a way to make certain it gets to that.”

  “But that’s the thing,” Tony said. “All of my brothers are awful.” They all laughed. “Yet I still deal with these jokers. I don’t treat them as if they don’t exist.”

  Mick and Charles exchanged a glance. Roz looked at Mick too. For his sake, she hoped it didn’t get any deeper than this.

  “There’s a difference,” Brent said.

  “Yeah, like what, big brother?” Tony asked. “Dad’s strictness?”

  “Like don’t worry about it,” Charles said. “It happened, it’s over. Let’s move on.”

  Mick and Roz were relieved to hear that. “Sounds like a plan to me,” Jenay said with a smile.

  “So, Uncle Mick,” Robert asked. “You have any kids?”

  “Yes, I have four children.”

  “Dad’s got you beat,” Donald said. “He has five plus two adopted daughters.”

  Mick looked at Charles. “They don’t live in Jericho?”

  “One does, Ashley,” Charles said, “but she’s in California visiting her sister, my daughter Carly. She’ll be back in a couple weeks.”

  “You have any little girls, Uncle Mick?” Bonita asked him.

  “Not as little as you, but yes, I do,” Mick said with a smile. “Her name is Gloria.”

  “And she’s a princess just like you,” Roz said.

  Bonita blushed. “Thank-you,” she said.

  “I bet you’re a cool dad, Uncle Mick,” Robert said. “Driving around in that Masi, I’ll bet your children just love you.”

  Tony was staring at Mick. He had the very opposite thought. “Are you a great parent, Uncle Mick?” he asked him.

  Mick looked at Tony. “No,” he said bluntly.

  Charles and Jenay looked at him.

  “Why not?” Tony said.

  “I have been an absent father in my children’s lives.”

  “Until recently,” Roz added.

  “Why?” Tony asked.

  “The same reason your father and I have not communicated in decades. Too much in between.”

  Tony nodded. He understood. His siblings, however, were lost.

  But the biggest takeaway from the dinner that Mick could see, other than the surreal-ness of being in his brother’s house with his brother’s family, was the interaction of Charles with his children. That interaction amazed him. He remembered when he was a kid in Jericho, and although his brother was only six years older, he thought he was a saint. Charles could do no wrong in his eyes. All of his children seemed to respond to Charles in that same way now.

  And that night, after taking a shower, Mick sat up in bed and thought about his own children. He was in his brother’s guestroom, with his back against the headboard. The way Charles and his children laughed and joked around. The way Charles seemed so at ease with them. The way they looked at him with respect rather than that fear and loathing Mick saw in his own children’s eyes. That was the kind of relationship he wanted. But he knew he had a very long way to go.

  He grabbed his cell phone from the side table and pressed a number. When the ringing stopped, Joey’s voice came on. “What’s up?”

  Mick exhaled. Here goes. “Hey.”

  “Oh, hey, Dad. You’re in Maine yet?”

  “Yeah, we got in this afternoon.”

  “How’s your brother? I would call him Uncle, but since I never met him before . . .”

  Mick closed his eyes. Another failure on his part. Charles could have been a great role model for his children. “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon. If all goes well.”

  “Why wouldn’t it go well?” Joey’s voice, as usual, became defensive. “I’m going to recover. I’m practically recovered now!”

  That wasn’t what Mick was talking about. He was talking about if all went well with this reunion with his brother. But he let it slide. “You heard from your siblings?”

  “Gloria called, and Adrian came by, but I haven’t heard from Teddy. I called his office, but they said he was out of town on business. His cell phone went to voice mail. So I said fuck it.”

  Joey was such a child, Mick thought. Such a restless little kid who needed the strong hand of a father more than he would ever know. But Mick needed him too, and his other children too. More than they would ever know. “Doc Blaxton taking good care of you?”


  “Yes, sir. Too much good care. I’m tired of his ass.”

  Mick’s temper flared. “Your ass had better do what he tells you to do. You want a full recovery and he’s the man who knows how to get you there.”

  “I’m doing what he says, dang. You don’t have to get all mad about it.”

  Mick exhaled. He was not cut out for this parent shit! But he was a parent, and he had to get cut out for it.

  “Where’s Miss Graham?” Joey asked. “She’s there with you?”

  “Yeah, she’s here. She’s taking a long tub bath. It’s been a long day.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I figure we should be out of here in a few days. I’ll come see you when I get back in Philly. We’ll get together then. Alright?”

  “Okay.” Joey’s voice sounded doubtful. His father was always talking about getting together then. “Thanks for calling.”

  Mick closed his eyes again. He couldn’t imagine Charles’s sons thanking him for phoning them. “Sure thing,” Mick said, and ended the call.

  “Who was that?”

  Mick looked over at the adjacent bathroom. Roz was out of the tub and was standing in the doorway drying off her naked body. Mick was naked beneath the sheets himself, and his dick had been fast asleep. But as soon as he saw that white towel began gliding along her gorgeously svelte black body, from her big breasts to her flat tummy to that specialness between her legs, his sleeping penis immediately woke up. “That was Joey,” he responded to her question. “I was checking on him.”

  “He’s doing okay?”

  “He’ll live.”

  Roz smiled. Mick was not a sentimental man! She went back into the bathroom to replace the towel. When she came out again she made her way to the suitcase on the center counter inside the walk-in closet, to put on a negligee. But when she glanced over and saw that Mick’s penis was fully aroused beneath the sheets, she knew she was wasting her time. Why put on a gown, she thought, when he was only going to take it off of her? So she didn’t bother. She went up to Mick and pulled the sheet off of his midsection, confirming his arousal. But then he took over.

  He lifted her body on top of his. She was facing him and straddling him. “You were going to put on a gown, weren’t you?”