Mick Sinatra 3: His Lady, His Children, and Sal (4 page)

Betsy could tell it was taking a lot for Mick to
control himself.
 
It was taking a lot for
her to control herself too, because she wanted to lash out at him as badly as
he wanted to lash out at her.

“I nearly died when I saw my wife entangled in your
foolishness,” Mick went on.
 
“I nearly
had a heart attack when I saw that prick strike my wife.
 
It is nothing short of a miracle that he is
not dead.
 
He’ll be an invalid for the
rest of his life, I made certain of that.
 
He’ll live to regret ever laying a hand on Rosalind Sinatra for his
remaining days.
 
He’s been taken care
of.
 
Now it’s your turn.”

Betsy was already experiencing that sense of terror
she always felt whenever she was in Mick’s presence.
 
But it was especially gripping tonight
because Roz wasn’t there to protect her from him.
 
What was he going to do to her?
 
She’d heard all kinds of horror stories about
this man.
 
How he was a mob boss.
 
How he was heartless.
 
How he was as cruel as cruel could get.
 
Was his cruelty about to be visited on her?

“My driver is going to drive you to the airport,”
Mick said.

Betsy didn’t expect to hear that.
 
“The airport?”

“My pilot is going to fly you away from Pennsylvania
forever.
 
He will fly you to whatever
state you wish to go.
 
But you will not
step foot in this state again.
 
You will
not contact my wife again.
 
If you do,
you will not live to discuss that conversation.”

Betsy swallowed hard.

Mick reached into his pocket, pulled out a thick wad
of cash, and reached it out to her.
 
Betsy looked at the money as if it could be a trap.
 
“Take it,” Mick ordered.

Betsy felt cheap, and disgusted, and she hesitated
longer than Mick thought she would.
 
But
eventually she took it.
 
Lord help her,
she took it.

Mick made the phone call to his pilot to ready his
plane.
 
Ordered his limo driver to drive
her to the airport.
 
And then he moved to
get out.
 
But just before he did, he
looked at Betsy again, just in case she thought he was a man who could betray
his word.
 
“If you try me,” he said, “you
will regret that attempt.”

And then Mick got out of his limousine.

Tears were in Betsy’s eyes as the limo drove her
away.
 
It had been a terrible night.
 
But as she counted the money in her
possession, and realized just how much it truly was, her spirits began to
lift.
 
She was going to miss her old
friend Roz, she truly was, but with this kind of cash, she thought happily, she
was already missing her less and less.
 
With this kind of cash she knew Jason, her big black stud of an
ex-boyfriend in New York, would gladly take her back.

Mick watched her leave, still wondering what in the
world did Rosalind see in that little ass-hustling bitch in the first place,
and then went into his home.
   

Roz had already removed her blouse and bra by the
time Mick arrived into their bedroom.
 
She was in the mirror, trying to see the bruise on her upper arm.
 
Mick stood at the door as she looked, and
then he walked up to her.

“Do you see a bruise?” she asked him.

Mick saw one.
 
Very slight.
 
But it was
there.
 
“Does it hurt?” he asked her.

“Just a little,” she said.
 
“I think I got it when he threw me to the
pavement.”

Mick’s jaw tightened at the thought of any man
throwing
her anywhere.
  
“You should not have been there in the first
place,” he said to her.
 
“And to go to
some motel no less. I ought to kick your ass for that alone.”

Roz looked at him through the mirror.
 
“You ought to try,” she warned.

But before she knew it, Mick grabbed her by her
unvarnished arm and turned her angrily to him.
 
He pressed her body against his with a look that betrayed what was in
his heart.
 
That look, that
who the fuck do she think she is
look,
consumed his face.
 
“Do you not believe
the words I say to you?”
 
His eyes
searched hers for clues.
 
“Do you think I
will not put a hand to you?”

“I’m your wife, Mick, not your child.”

He gripped her tighter.
 
“You’re my wife who does not seem to understand
what it means to be my wife!”
 
His anger
was now on full display.
 
“I have men who
are paid to ensure your safety every hour of the day, and you know it.
 
But you slip their detection time and time
again.
 
You behave as if I’m employing
them for the hell of it.
 
You behave as
if I’m just a regular businessman who doesn’t have an enemy in this world.
 
You behave as if I will not die if something
were to happen to you!”

He hated exposing his vulnerability this way.
 
But it was a fact.
 
When it came to Rosalind’s safety, when it
came to Rosalind’s life, he was singular in his determination to always keep
her free from harm.
 
Nobody, not even
her, was going to sabotage that.
 
“You
act as if you are still that unmarried struggling actress in New York with
unmarried struggling friends.
 
Well you
are not that woman anymore.
 
You are my
wife.
 
And if you ever disobey anything I
specifically tell you to do again, I will beat the shit out of you,
Rosalind.
 
I will strip you naked and
beat your ass until you are unable to move, let alone slip security!
 
Do I make myself clear to you?”

His hand was painful around her arm.
 
And his big green eyes were ablaze with
fury.
 
She nearly died fooling around
with Betsy at that motel tonight.
 
They
both might have been critically injured by that madman boyfriend of Betsy’s if
Mick hadn’t shown up.
 
He had a right to
be disappointed in her.
 
She was
disappointed in herself.
 
“It won’t
happen again,” she said to him.

Mick stared at her.
 
No one on the face of this earth would believe how much he cared for
her.
 
How could heartless Mick the Tick
have a heart for anybody?
 
But what they
would never understand was that Roz had his heart.
 
Roz had total control.
 
And when she played with that heart by taking
unnecessary chances; when she didn’t pay attention to just how much control she
really had over him, it angered him.
 
“Lay down,” he said, as he headed toward their en-suite bathroom.

Roz’s heart tightened.
 
Was he really going there?
 
“May I ask why?” she asked him.

He didn’t answer her, so she stayed standing where
she was.
 
It wasn’t until he was coming
out of the bathroom, and she saw that tube of antibiotic ointment in his hand,
did she feel better about obeying him.
 
She laid on her back across their bed and tried not to think about that
bruise or Betsy or the horror she felt when she realized Kyle was in that
parking lot.
 
When she heard Betsy’s
scream, a part of her wanted to just leave.
 
Those two deserved each other, was her first thought.
 
But she couldn’t do that to Betsy.
 
Their relationship wasn’t always
one-sided.
 
But she was no fool.
 
She knew it was one-sided now.

Mick walked up to the bed and squeezed out a little
ointment and began rubbing it onto her bruised upper arm.
 
It burned at first, but then it felt soothing.
 
Roz was grateful.
 
“Thank you,” she said to him.
 
“And I promise you I will not do anything
like that again.”

“You’d better not,” Mick said.

 
Then Roz’s
curiosity got the best of her.
 
“Where’s
Bess?” she asked.

Mick didn’t skip a beat.
 
“Gone,” he said.

Roz looked up at him, and they shared a lingering
glance.
 
She knew he had either paid her
to get lost, or had threatened to destroy her if she didn’t get lost.
 
Either way, she knew Betsy was gone from her
life.
 
Any other night and it would have
been sad.
 
It was sad tonight too, but
only because Betsy was still so far gone in her unrealistic views of life and
men that Roz wondered if she would ever have clarity.
 
But Roz realized tonight, after Bess had put
her life in danger by entangling her in her mess so selfishly, that it was no
longer her problem.
 
Mick was right.
 
Betsy was bad news.

But as Mick went back into the bathroom to return
the ointment, Roz still couldn’t shake that sense of loss.
 
She was not the kind of woman who had
hundreds of friends.
  
Her circle was
purposely small.
 
But when she lost a
friend, especially the one she had pegged as her closest friend, it was a big
loss.
 
And she couldn’t help it.
 
Tears began to appear in her eyes because she
and Betsy went way back, and had a good friendship once upon a time.
 
They looked out for each other.
 
But those days were gone.

Mick saw the tears in his wife’s eyes when he
returned from the bathroom.
 
Betsy didn’t
deserve her tears but he knew there was no telling Roz that.
 
She was loyal and devoted and would always be
that way.
 
But she deserved better than
Betsy Gable.

He removed his suit coat and tie, and then his
shirt, and then he reached onto the bed and lifted her into his arms.
 
She rested her head on his broad, bare
shoulders and tried with all she had to stop those ridiculous tears.
 
He laid on the bed, on his back, still
holding her in his arms, and allowed her all the time she needed to grieve her
loss.
 
He was not a man who cultivated
nor particularly wanted friends, but he knew Rosalind’s heart.
 
He knew she would give her last to her
friends.
 
Betsy’s decampment was a big
deal for her.

But when the tears finally eased, and she lifted her
upper body and looked at him, he nodded his head.
 
“It’s for the best, babe,” he said to her.

“I know,” Roz said.
 
“But it still hurts.”

Mick kissed her on her forehead and began fondling
her breasts.
 
He couldn’t help
himself.
 
They were bare and taut and
right before his very eyes.
 
And as he
and Roz stared into each other’s eyes, and his fondling increased, and their
eyes became hooded, she moved up on his body, to give him full access, and he
was pleased that she did.
 
He opened his
mouth, and took care of her.

Mick sucked her nipples raw.
 
He sucked and squeezed and she loved the feel
of his tongue all over her chest.
 
She
ran her hands through his thick, silky hair and closed her eyes and let him
handle it.
 
He handled it with care and
love and that blatant sensuality only he knew how to give her.

And even as she could feel him pulling down her
pants and panties, and removing them off of her legs, she still couldn’t shake
the sadness.
 
But as Mick continued to
suck her breasts, and began to rub her tight ass, and began to move a finger
between her legs, it all began to shake away.
  
And when Mick stood up, and laid her on her back, and began to unbuckle
his belt and remove his shoes, pants and briefs, and stood before her in all of
his muscular manliness, Roz began to throb.
 
She knew his skill level.
 
She
knew he was about to make love to her in a way that would knock Betsy Gable and
her selfishness completely off of her mind.
 
He knew how to do that.
 
She
needed him to do that tonight.

Mick knew she needed it too.
  
That was why he moved her further onto the
bed, got on too, and moved his face between her legs.
 
When he started sucking her, she contorted
her slender body into a lift that gave him exactly the angle he wanted.
 
And he took full advantage.
 
He ate her until she was wet, but thirty for
more.

Mick leaned up and looked at her vagina.
 
It was swollen and ready.
 
He got onto his knees, opened her as wide as
she could go, and guided his penis inside of her.
 
Roz was contorting again, and he was letting
out a sigh of relief, as he entered her.
 
And when he began to make it count, when he began to move inside of her
with a tempo that made her body feel fluid rather than solid, they both knew he
had her then.
 
He was fucking her the way
she loved to be fucked.
 
He was pushing
into her and pushing through the friction of her tightness at just that right
ankle.
 
He was making love to her, and
she was riding that rod with joy.

Mick leaned down, opened her legs even wider to
accommodate his thick body, and pulled her into his arms.
 
And he fucked her.
 
He hit her spot with such accuracy that she
couldn’t imagine a better feeling.
 
His
cock was wedged so deep inside of her as he fucked her that his balls were
slapping against the bottom of her ass.
 
And the bed was shaking.
 
And
sweat poured from Mick’s body, as he fucked her.

After nearly fifteen straight minutes of fucking,
Mick looked at Roz.
 
Her gorgeous face
wasn’t displaying any pain of loss anymore, but appeared to be enjoying the
ride.
  
He was pleased to see it.
 
And he wanted to tell her so.

He lifted her chin and looked into her bright, brown
eyes. Such gorgeous eyes, he thought.
 
And he talked with her as he continued to fuck her.
 
“You’ve done all you can do for her,
darling,” he said with a tenderness no one would believe Mick possessed.
 
“You’ve been a wonderful friend to her.
 
Far better than she deserved.
 
But no more.
 
Her gravy train stopped running tonight.”

Roz was too consumed with his lovemaking to ask
questions that required deep thought.
 
She only asked what seemed logical to ask.
 
“Did you give her any money?”

Mick didn’t answer her.
 
He ran his hand along the edges of her soft
hair and then kissed her.
 
Roz knew
exactly what that meant.
 
He’d paid her off.

She exhaled, and that sincere look Mick loved so
much appeared on her face.
 
“It’s just as
well,” she said.
 
“Her antics were
wearing me out.”

“Now it’s my turn,” Mick said, as his strokes
increased, “to wear you out.”

And he did.
 
He pulled her back into his arms and fucked her hard.
 
He fucked her so decisively that she climaxed
with a screaming sensation.
 
He fucked
her so hard that when he came, every vein in his body felt on the verge of
popping.
 
He fucked her that night.

Later that same night, he sat naked in the chair
beside their four-poster bed and watched his brand new bride sleep with a
peacefulness he’d never had.
 
Covered
only by a silk sheet, her small, lithe body lay on its stomach without a hint
of movement, and her serene dark face lay atop her two hands as they folded
against the pillow in an angel’s pose.
 
Her eyes were the light of her face, but they were closed, as her
naturally long eyelashes lay in downward sweeps above the arch of her high
cheekbones.
 
He felt proud to have
her.
 
He felt special to have her in his
life.