Mick Sinatra: The Harder They Fall
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Authors: Mallory Monroe
MICK SINATRA 5:
THE HARDER THEY
FALL
BY
MALLORY MONROE
Copyright©2016 Mallory Monroe
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This novel
is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious. Any
similarities to anyone living or dead are completely accidental. The
specific mention of known places or venues are not meant to be exact replicas
of those places, but are purposely embellished or imagined for the story’s
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Mick Sinatra
leaned one elbow on the armrest as he slowly drove his pearl-white Escalade
along the streets of his town: Philly.
Rosalind Sinatra, his wife, and their twins in the back, were along for
the ride too.
Only Roz couldn’t stop
looking at him, and couldn’t stop shaking her head.
“What?” he
asked, glancing over at her.
“
You
, that’s what.
You look different driving a tank.”
Mick
chuckled.
“What tank?
This is a Cadillac, woman.
This is a luxurious vehicle.
Tank my ass.”
“Oh, it’s
nice,” Roz agreed, looking around.
“Red
leather seats.
Fully loaded.
Beautifully appointed.
But I’m just still a little shocked that you
bought it, to be honest.
You’re a sports
car kind of guy.
I might be wrong, but I
don’t think I’ve ever seen you driving an SUV before.”
Mick looked
out at the road ahead of them.
He was
not a man who gave in to sentimentality, not even for her.
But he couldn’t hide the truth.
“I’ve never been the father of twins before,”
he said.
“I’ve never been the husband of
a woman like you before.
The way these
fuckers drive out here, it’s protection for my family.
Strong, big protection.
It’s plenty of car seat room for the twins
and, as they get older, plenty of leg kicking room.
There’s also,” he added, darting his big,
green eyes at Roz, “plenty of bitching and moaning room for the wife.”
Roz hit him
playfully on his massive bicep.
“Watch
it, buster,” she said.
“I know where you
live.”
Mick laughed
and turned a corner.
“But it’s a
trip, isn’t it?” Roz folded her arms.
“The
two of us married, and parents of twin babies?
You and me?
When we first met in
New York, I didn’t see this coming in any way, shape, or form.
When we first met, I didn’t think you were
about anything good.
Just another good
looking man looking for a quick hit and run.”
She was
partially right.
Mick wasn’t looking for
love when they first met, he wasn’t even looking for sex.
He was visiting a director friend of his who
was auditioning dancers.
And then came
Roz on stage with a group of dancers.
She was a beautiful black woman on stage with
other beautiful women.
And she was the
worse dancer of the group.
There was no
reason whatsoever for him to be looking her way.
But he found that he was not only looking,
but couldn’t look away.
He saw something
in her eyes.
He saw something beyond
that smoking hot body of hers that made him keep watching.
He saw something so striking and so different
about her that she haunted his dreams.
But that wasn’t something he could just talk about.
“Yeah, I
didn’t think we’d end up at this place either,” was all he managed to say.
“That’s for damn sure.”
Roz
smiled.
“But here we are.
The parents of two beautiful babies.
I’m still getting over the shock.
You already had kids, but these are my first
two.”
“I already
had kids I didn’t raise,” Mick pointed out.
“These are the only two I’ve ever raised from infancy.
That’s why I bought this vehicle.”
He frowned.
“I’ve got to get this shit right for a change.”
Roz looked
at him as he drove into the parking lot at the doctor’s office.
It was the twins’ check-up day and Mick had
them arriving on time.
She knew how
important it was for him to get it right this time.
Mick had a total of six biological children
by five different women.
Adrian, his
oldest, was dead.
His remaining three
grown children still harbored some resentment because of his absence in their
lives.
They were coming around, thanks
to his renewed efforts to bring them around, but he’d had degrees of difficulty
with all of them.
“Don’t
worry,” Roz said as the SUV stopped and she unbuckled her seatbelt.
“You managed to get us to Doctor McKay’s on
time.
Something I’ve never managed to
do.
You’re on your way, kid.”
Mick
chuckled at the
kid
reference, since
he was much older than Roz, and unbuckled his seatbelt too.
He and Roz stepped out of the SUV, both ready
to move to the back of the SUV and get the twins out of their car seats.
But first, Mick looked around.
It was an instinct born out of years as the
head of the Sinatra crime family.
And
then he closed his door.
But he
looked again, because he thought he saw something.
At first he still couldn’t recognize what it
was he thought he saw.
But then it was
made clear.
Across the parking lot, in a
car parallel to where Roz now stood, a rifle began to lift out of a car’s
window.
His instincts, his love, that
pure adrenalin that kept him alive all these years, took over.
“Get down!”
he yelled to Roz as he leapt onto the high hood of the big SUV, slid over to
the passenger side, and knocked Roz to the ground as he jumped on top of
her.
They both fell down just as a
bullet sailed above their heads and shattered the front passenger side
window.
Then the gunfire was rapid.
Mick was hit
once in the back, and the pain pierced through his entire body.
But he still ordered his wife to go.
“Get back in the truck,” he said to Roz, “and
drive our babies away from here!”
“Mick!” Roz
cried.
She knew he’d been shot.
Then he was
shot again, this time in the side, causing him to recoil.
“Go,
Rosalind!”
He pulled out his own
gun.
“They’ll kill us all.
Get away from here!
I’ll give you cover,” he added, and then was
shot a third time.
Roz
screamed.
“Help us!” she cried.
“Somebody help us!”
Mick was in
pain and was losing it fast.
But he
couldn’t die yet.
Not until he knew his
babies were safe.
Not until he knew his
wife was safe.
Not until he stopped the
bastard trying to take his last breath from taking hers.
He looked at
Roz.
His eyes were filled with fear for
her and sadness that he probably would never see her beautiful face again.
That he would never see the love of his life
again.
But then his same soft, caring
eyes turned menacingly hard.
They even
scared Roz.
“Go now!” he angrily ordered
as he rolled off of her onto his back, and began firing back at those
motherfuckers.
Roz jumped
inside the open passenger side door as he gave her cover.
She knew her only mission was to get their
babies out of harm’s way.
And she began
scurrying over to the driver side to do just that.
Her purse was still in the truck.
Her keys were in the purse.
All she had to do was press the Start button
and go.
But it would
mean leaving Mick behind to die, and she didn’t think she could do that.
They needed a break.
This was stormy weather unlike they’d ever experienced,
and they needed a break in the weather.
A sudden, miraculous break in this stormy, merciless weather that wanted
to drown them all.
But the
gunfire didn’t stop for the weather to break.
It was relentless.
All Roz could
hear were her babies crying and even more gunfire.
Unceasing gunfire.
In an urban city.
In the heart of the city of brotherly love.
It felt like a movie to Roz.
Like one of those old-fashioned westerns
where gun battles were as commonplace as water.
But Roz knew
this was worst.
Because she knew Mick
had fallen.
Because she knew Mick was
still in mortal danger and he had ordered her to leave him in danger.
Because she knew the Wild West, that city
called Dodge, or even that gunfight at the O.K. Corral had nothing, not anything
at all, on Philly that day.
