Mick Sinatra: The Harder They Fall Read Free Page B

had begged him when they knew
their lives were on the line.
    But begging
only made it worst.   Mick shot him
through the forehead.   And then he shot
the third man, who was just recoiling from Criggs.   That left only one.   The proverbial messenger.
    “I know,”
the spared man said.   “I’m to go back and
bear witness.   I’m to go back and tell
everybody on these mean streets that Mick the Tick don’t play.”
    “Unfortunately
for you,” Teddy said, “they already know that.”   And Teddy, with a gun the man didn’t even see he held, shot him through
the forehead too.
    Mick looked
at Teddy.   Who the fuck told you to do that , his look seemed to say.
    But Teddy,
as usual, had a ready answer.   “Keeping
messengers alive to spread the word is old school, Pop.   That shit don’t work.   I say kill’em all.   That’ll spread the word faster than any
scared also-ran could ever do.”
    Mick’s heart
sank a little every time Teddy had to go down that road, but he knew he
couldn’t flinch.   Teddy had already
started down that road on his own, getting into all kinds of illegal trade on a
smaller scale, making enemies left and right but without the force and backing
of his old man.   He would have gotten his
small time ass killed out there if Mick hadn’t pulled him in.   That made it easier on Teddy, but harder on
Mick.   He didn’t want any of his children
to walk his walk.   But at least the
underworld knew he was now Mick the Tick’s right hand man.   At least now he had protection.
    Mick
continued to stare at his son.   Everybody
said he had Mick’s hard handsome looks and unflinching killer instinct.   But when Mick looked at him, he thought he
saw a flicker of regret in those big eyes of Teddy’s.   But it was only a flicker, and it flicked
away.   “Get them to a cleanup crew,” Mick
ordered.   “No shortcuts.”
    Teddy
smiled.   “I didn’t leave a witness,” he
said in that charming way the ladies loved.   “You think I’m going to leave a body?”
    Mick knew
why his son was going for levity.   It was
like cops telling jokes at horrific crime scenes.   They had to minimize the horror to be able to
live with their shitty jobs.   But Mick
wasn’t built that way.   He did what he
had to do, but he never wallowed in it or pretended it wasn’t hellish.   It was.   He couldn’t smile at a time like this.
    He got out
of the limo as the driver in the SUV opened the passenger side door.   Mick got inside the SUV.   As soon as he sat down, the pain of what he
had to do settled around him.   And the
fact that his son had taken it upon himself to kill the messenger didn’t sit
well with him either.   He didn’t have
permission to go that far, but he went that far.   Mick wasn’t sure if he liked his initiative,
or was repulsed by it.   Then he decided
it didn’t matter because Teddy Sinatra was a mean bastard just like his
daddy.   And nobody could tell his daddy a got damn thing either.
    As his
driver made his way back around the SUV to get back behind the wheel, Mick’s
cell phone rang.   He pulled it out, and
looked at the Caller ID.   It was his son
Joey’s mother.   He didn’t want to talk to
her, but it could be about his son.   He
answered the call.
    “What is it,
Cat?” he asked.
    He knew that
Cathleen Thomas, the person on the other end, never liked when he answered her
calls that way.   He didn’t give a fuck,
especially since their recent conversations had all devolved into anger and
recriminations over a chain-wielding beating Mick had to put on Joey’s ass, but
he had to hear her out.
    But he also
knew Cathleen was a tough ass if she was anything.   His tough ass didn’t scare her.   “What’s wrong with your wife?” she
asked.    
    Mick hadn’t
expected her to mention Rosalind.   “What
are you talking about?”
    “She ran out
of Akon’s early today like a crazy woman.    She looked at some guy and just took off like