Big Daddy Sinatra: Carly's Cry

by Mallory Monroe

  “He’s on his way to becoming our new mayor, if the polls are right. He’s more than a blowhard. But not Cruikshank. Somebody else.”

  “Who?”

  Charles hated to admit it. “We don’t know yet. Gilda came out with both barrels blazing and wasn’t interested in conversation. We had no choice, son.”

  Brent handled the case, and didn’t press charges against his father, which only gave more fodder to Cruikshank’s campaign a couple months before the election. He had been running for nearly a year. He had been trying to paint Charles as the enemy all that time. Brent’s exoneration of his own father proved that the Sinatras were a monopoly that looked out for nobody but themselves, and Cruikshank ran with it. But Brent didn’t care. It was self-defense and he was treating it that way. Makayla, as DA, treated it the same way too, despite Cruikshank’s calls that both of them recuse themselves.

  But Donald was on his family’s side. He knew his father wouldn’t harm a flea unless that flea was trying to harm his family. Gilda was a hothead. That was why he could never love her the way she wanted him to. He loved her sex, and he was going to miss that about her, but he doubted if he was going to miss her. His father said they had no choice, and he believed him. He knew Gilda was the type to shoot first and ask questions later. But when his father said he and Uncle Mick went to talk to her, Donald also knew she was shooting first at two men who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot back.

  But it still hurt. He still was tired of being used and abused by these women. He was still tired of always picking the wrong kind of girl.

  Carly was picking the wrong kind of boy, in her family’s eyes, but she decided weeks ago that she couldn’t let somebody else determine her life. She knew they didn’t trust Trevor. She knew her Uncle Mick believed, without being able to prove it, that he was shady.

  But she knew how Trevor treated her. She knew how he phoned her every night and, over the last couple of weekends, how he came to see her. He didn’t want anything from her when he came. He just wanted her company. And he never, not once, grilled her about Ethan Campbell or anything about that night. She already had a secret crush on Trevor long before that night. And the fact that he dropped everything to get her out of jail, and his subsequent treatment of her, only heightened her interest in the one man whose presence alone made her happy.

  She made herself a bowl of cereal and sat at the island counter beside Donald and Ashley. Both were eating too. “Good morning, people,” she said. “Where’s Bonita?”

  “She spent the night at Brent and Makayla’s.” Then Donald frowned. “Why are you so cheerful?”

  “Because I am. It’s Saturday. I don’t have to go to work. It’s a good day.”

  “But I have to go to work. It’s a lousy day.”

  “Isn’t Saint Cat’s having that fundraiser today?” Ashley asked. “That car wash?”

  “They’re having it,” Carly said, “and I should probably be there. But I’m not going.”

  “You aren’t a very good teacher,” Donald said. “The teachers I remember were devoted seven days a week. Not just five days a week.”

  “Perhaps they were. But I’m not.”

  “Don’t pay Donnie any attention,” Ashley said. “He’s not exactly devoted to his job like that either.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a natural goof off. She’s not. At least not in Dad’s eyes.”

  “Or her own eyes,” Ashley added, and Carly laughed.

  Donald looked at her with an even stranger frown. “What’s funny? That’s not funny.”

  “Don’t hate just because you have to go to work,” Carly responded. “You should be glad you have a job. Mom doesn’t have to work, Dad takes care of her, but she works harder than anybody I know. She works every single Saturday.”

  “Has she left already?” Donald asked.

  “You know she has,” Carly said. “She’s never late, unlike you. Why are you still here anyway?”

  “Ah, put a sock in it, Carly,” he responded, and Carly laughed.

  “Now I’m with Donnie,” Ashley said. “Why are you so gosh-darn happy?”

  “I told you why. I’m off today. It’s a good day.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Ashley asked her. “No. Let me guess! You’re going to read books. Then go to the library and read more books. Then come home and watch reruns of The Big Bang Theory. Am I right?”

  Carly smiled. “Wrong. As usual.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Ashley asked.

  Carly hesitated. Ashley and Donald both looked at her.

  “What?” Carly asked.

  “You didn’t answer my question. What’s the big deal?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then what are you going to do this weekend?”

  Carly exhaled. “I’m going to Boston for the weekend.”

  “You’re what?” Ashley and Donald asked in unison. “Why would you go to a place like that,” Donald asked, “when they tried to pin a murder on you?”

  “For real, Car,” Ashley said. “You don’t need to be going up in that place. Are you nuts?”

  “I know why she’s going,” Donald said. “She’s going to see that man. I’ll bet any amount of money.”

  “What man?” Ashley asked.

  “The one that came to her rescue in Boston. Her former boss. Trevor somebody.”

  “Oh, you mean cutie,” Ashley said with a smile. “I saw a picture of him. Well,” she added, “if he’s the reason.”

  “Ash!” Donald said.

  “Don’t Ash me! A good man is hard to find.”

  “But he’s not good,” Donald said. “I overheard Dad and Mom talking. They think that guy is bad news.”

  “They don’t know him,” Carly said.

  “You don’t either!” Donald replied.

  “I do know him. I worked for the man, remember?”

  “He was your boss. It was purely professional, I’m sure. That was different.” He looked at Carly. “Don’t do it, Carly.”

  Carly had had enough. “Just leave it alone, alright?” She stood up and went around to the sink.

  Donald leaned against Ashley. “I’ll be back,” he said, got up, and headed upstairs.

  “Dad!” Donald yelled as he entered the bedroom. He heard the shower running and went in the direction of the master bath. The door was open, and he could see the steam coming from the running shower water, but when he entered the bathroom and saw his father’s silhouette through the shower stall door, he froze. At first it looked as if his father was humping the shower wall. His back was to the door and his bare ass was pushing up into something, over and over again. If it was a person he was fucking, that person was so small she was virtually invisible. Then Donald saw what appeared to be a slender, shapely leg beside his father’s. A woman’s leg. His dad wasn’t humping the shower stall wall, he was humping a woman. But what woman? His stepmother, Jenay, had already left for work. What the fuck?

  Donald moved closer. He was angry now. How could his father betray Jenay like this? And he was going to expose it right here and right now!

  Donald flung open the shower stall door angrily. “How could,” he started saying when the door flew open. Until his father turned toward him in shock, his penis dropping out of the woman’s ass, and he got a tiny glimpse of his stepmother’s face as she turned toward him too. That quick glance alone gave Donald an even quicker glimpse of her small, brown ass.

  Charles knew it too, and it only inflamed his already hot temper. “Are you out of your gotdamn mind?” he angrily asked his youngest son as he flung the shower door back closed. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You know not to come into our suite without permission!”

  “I’m sorry!” Donald said, truly mortified. “I didn’t know Mom was still home, I swear. Carly said Mom had already left for work. I didn’t know it was Mom!”

  “What do you want?” Charles asked in a voice that made it clear he was still super-hot, as he continued to shield Jenay’s en
tire body.

  Donald had forgotten what he had wanted. He was as traumatized as they were.

  “What, Donald?” Charles asked him again.

  “Carly,” he said, remembering.

  “Carly what?”

  “Carly says she’s going to spend the weekend in Boston. With that Trevor guy.”

  Charles’s heart dropped. So did Jenay’s. “She’s what?” she asked.

  “Where is she?” Charles asked.

  “Still downstairs,” Donald said. “Having breakfast.”

  “Tell her I want to talk to her,” Charles said. “She’s not to go anywhere until I get down there. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Yes, sir,” Donald said, still mortified. “And I’m sorry, Jenay,” he added, as he hurried out of their room.

  “That boy!” Charles said as he still held onto Jenay’s hips. His penis was no longer inside of her, but had wedged itself between her butt cheeks. She was still turned toward the shower stall wall. “He better not have seen an inch of you,” Charles added.

  Jenay looked back at him over her shoulder. “I don’t think he did,” she said. “Your big-ass body had me pretty well covered.”

  Charles smiled. “I’m not that big.”

  “I’ve got news for you, Big Daddy. Yes, you are.” She rubbed her ass against his penis. “In every way.”

  And that rub did it. Charles began to feel the lust again. He leaned down and kissed her on her mouth, and then turned her around, and kissed her harder.

  “What about Carly?” Jenay said as he kissed her.

  “She’ll wait,” Charles said as he lifted her legs against his hips, and guided his penis back into her wet pussy. “She knows not to disobey me.”

  He pushed into Jenay with a thrust so hard and sensual that she let out a guttural cry. And then he was pumping into her again. She lifted her hands over her head and splayed them against the back of the wall as her body bounced with his every stroke. She was feeling it again too, in a powerful way, as his hands cupped her ass and pumped her even harder.

  Charles squeezed her ass as he pumped her. He loved this woman and he loved making love to this woman. And he wanted to show her how much. He was leaving it all on the field. He pushed into her, and pushed into her, until his balls were slapping against her. He leaned down and put her nipple in his mouth, as he fondled, sucked, and bit her.

  Jenay let out another cry of joy when he bit her. She was going to have the scars to prove this fuck, and she loved when he went all out. He was holding nothing back. So she didn’t either. She lifted his mouth from her breast, and began kissing him. She kissed him as hard as he fucked her. She forgot about every trouble they had in this world, and enjoyed every inch of her man.

  She came first, the way he liked it, and stopped kissing him when her orgasm heightened. She began trembling and arching and her face lifted upward. Charles encouraged her. When she said she couldn’t bear it, he made her bear it. When she said it was too intense, he banged her harder and made it more intense. Jenay could take it. He knew she could. And Jenay took it. She took everything he threw at her. He pumped his ass off, and she enjoyed the ride.

  She enjoyed it so much that it made him cum too. He clenched his teeth and splayed his own hands against the stall as he pushed her back against the wall to hold her up. He pushed deep into her and stayed there, to slow down the intensity of his own ejaculation, but like Jenay, there was no way to stop this train. He came hard. He poured into her and began fucking her again.

  He fucked her so hard that Jenay began to climax again too. She wrapped her hands around his neck and slid her back up and down along the wall as he pounded her. They leaned into each other and kissed each other as the feelings gave them the release they loved. Even the bone of her thighs felt the tremble.

  And when they were done, and could feel their strength begin to collapse around them, they leaned against each other for support. She held him up, and he held her up. And he looked her in the eyes. “We’ve been together a long time, Jenay,” he said. “How can it possibly keep being this good?”

  Jenay smiled. “Maybe this time is as good as it gets,” she said.

  But Charles was shaking his head. “No, baby,” he said. “We thought that the last time, remember? And the time before that. And the time before that.”

  Jenay laughed. “I get your point,” she said.

  Charles’s look turned serious. “I never thought love was meant for a man like me. I never thought I believed in this kind of love. All I’ve ever known of relationships was abject failure, beginning with my own. To have a lady like you means everything to me, Jenay. Thank you for being a part of my life. Thank you for being a part of my children’s life. Sometimes I just need to say thank you.”

  Jenay’s heart swelled with emotion. “Thank you, Charles, for restoring my faith in love too. You were cynical, but so was I. Until you came along. Thank you.”

  Charles pulled her into his arms. He was drained and weak as hell, but he held onto Jenay. He had matters to attend to, not least of which was Carly, but he held onto the one person who gave him the strength to stand. Everybody had to wait when it came to Jenay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When Charles finally put on his bathrobe and made his way downstairs, Carly had been waiting far longer than she had ever intended to. She was a grown woman. This was her life. What was there to talk about?

  Plenty, in Charles mind. He tied his robe as he made his way toward the kitchen.

  “Uh-oh,” Donald said, whispering to Ashley. “Dad’s here.”

  “Hey, Dad,” Ashley said.

  Charles walked over by her and gave her a hug. “Hey, baby,” he said. Then he headed toward the coffeemaker to pour himself a cup of coffee.

  Carly looked at him. She was seated at the center island on the opposite side of Ashley and Donald. She turned back toward her father. “You wanted me to wait?” she asked.

  Charles began pouring coffee into his mug. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m sure Dutiful Donnie already told you.”

  “Where are you going?” Charles asked again.

  Carly realized who she was dealing with and stopped with the sly remarks. “Boston,” she said. “For the weekend.”

  “That’s not happening,” Charles said bluntly as he grabbed his cup and made his way beside her at the island.

  “Why not, Daddy?” she asked. “I’m only going for the weekend. It’s no big deal.”

  “Just because there’s been a passage of time,” he said, “doesn’t mean it’s over.”

  Carly knew he was talking about how close she came to being arrested for Ethan’s murder. She also knew it was about Trevor too. “What do you have against him?” Carly asked. “What does Uncle Mick and all of his minions have against him? What have they found? Nothing, right? That’s why Uncle Mick sent his bodyguards away. Because there’s nothing to guard. Trevor comes to town and sees me. We enjoy good conversation. And he leaves. That’s the beginning and end of it. But yet I’m supposed to treat him like a pariah on some hunch you might have.”

  But Charles saw it a different way. Anzino, Gooch DeCarlo, and Gilda Lane were all dead, but somebody was behind the scenes pulling the strings. This shit wasn’t over by a longshot, as far as Charles was concerned. “It’s one thing for that man to come to Jericho and spend time with you,” he said to Carly. “That’s fine. You’re in your element. You’re around your family. But you aren’t going to Boston. Not yet.”

  “Then when can I go? When is this going to end? Never? Are you going to always have your suspicions about him?”

  “I might,” Charles said.

  “But based on what?” Carly asked in a flustered voice. “You have no proof, Daddy.”

  Charles looked at Carly. She had every logical explanation. But this wasn’t about logic. This was about his gut feeling that something wasn’t right about that Trevor Reese. “You aren’t going to Boston to spend not a day, not a weekend
, not any time with that man. Do I make myself clear?”

  But Carly wouldn’t answer. Donald and Ashley looked at her. “You should listen to Dad,” Ashley said. “He’s only looking out for you.”

  “I can look out for myself,” Carly said.

  “Not when it comes to men, you can’t,” Donald said. “You think you can, but you don’t know what they’re really up to. Like Gilda. I had no clue she was using me to get to Dad. But she was. What if this Trevor person is doing the same thing?”

  “The election is coming up,” Ashley said. “Maybe Trevor Reese works for Cruikshank.”

  “Yeah,” Donald echoed.

  But Carly frowned and shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! Trevor wouldn’t be working for some small town political hack like Cruikshank.”

  “You don’t know who he might work for,” Donald said. “He could be a serial killer for all you know.”

  “Oh for crying out loud!” Carly decried.

  “Donnie’s right,” Ashley said. “Or maybe he’s a big time drug dealer and your stupid ass is walking right into his trap. You need to listen to Dad, Carly.”

  “You need to forget that loser,” Donald said, “and get yourself a boozer.”

  Carly looked at him as if he was nuts. “What?”

  “At least a drunk is honest,” Donald clarified. “At least a drunk wants to make love not war.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Ashley said. “I know plenty drunks who want to make both.”

  “Will you two knock it off?” Carly asked. “This is my life, not yours, and I’ll live it anyway I damn well please! And if that includes me going to spend a weekend with a man I happen to enjoy spending time with, then that’s what it shall include. Nobody is going to tell me how to live my life. Just as I wouldn’t deign to tell either of you how to live yours! This is my life,” Carly continued with emotion she didn’t expect to display, “and I’m tired of being told how to live it.”

  Jenay came downstairs, tying her bathrobe. The loud voices caused her to come. She headed for the kitchen. Everybody were staring at Carly.