Mick Sinatra: For Once In My Life (24 page)

During the
limo drive to her apartment, Mick still held her: he held her hand.
 
But she could tell something different was on
his mind.

“What’s the
matter?” she asked him as their driver drove them slowly through the busy,
gritty streets.

“I want
something that I know you don’t want,” he said.

Roz stared
at him.
 
“Such as?”

“I want you
to move into my penthouse at the Carson.”

He was
right.
 
“Why would I want to do that?”
she asked.
 
“I have a perfectly fine
apartment of my own.”

“In
Brooklyn,” Mick said.

Roz could
have been offended by that.
 
But she
understood where he was coming from.
 
“It’s a fine apartment, Mick.
 
It’s perfectly safe, if that’s what you’re worried about.
 
It’s as perfect and safe as any apartment can
be.”

“The Carson
would be safer,” he said. “For you.”

But that was
a non-starter with Roz.
 
“Thanks, but
no.”

Mick looked
at her, and clutched her hand tighter.
 
“Even though it will make me feel better?” he asked.

Roz was
touched by his concern, but she had to stay true to herself.
 
“I want to make you feel better.”
 
He smiled. “And not just in that way,” she
added, punching him in the gut with her free hand.
 
“But I have to be careful.”

“Careful
about what?”

“I have to
make certain that I don’t become your whore, Mick.”

Mick was
mortified.
 
“My whore? I will never view
you that way!
 
You’ll never be that to
me.”

“And to be
certain of that, I’m going to stay right where I am and we are going to keep
doing what we do until . . .”

“Until
what?” Mick asked.

“Until we
get it right.”

Mick thought
about it.
 
Then decided he could live
with that.
 
He squeezed her hand tighter.
“Just be careful,” he said.

“I will.”

“I mean it,
Rosalind.
 
Take no chances with
anyone.
 
The same way you treated me when
we first met and I offered to give you a lift?
 
That’s the way you treat all strangers.”

Roz
smiled.
 
“But you ended up giving me a
lift.
 
And a whole lot more.”

Mick
couldn’t help but smile himself.
 
“Forget
I used that example,” he said, and Roz laughed.

After
walking her to her second floor apartment inside her Brooklyn brownstone, with
further assurances that she would watch out for herself, Mick got back into his
limousine to make the journey back to Philly.

But he had
company.
 
Danny Padrone, one of his men
who had been working a case for him, had gotten into the limo and was now seated
on the backseat.

“Sorry it
took so long, boss,” he said as Mick got in.

“What do you
have for me?” Mick asked.

Danny handed
him the file.
 
“His name is Carmelo
Rivera.”

Mick saw a
photograph of Carmelo.
 
A very handsome
young man.

“They dated
for almost three years,” Danny went on.
 
“By all accounts it started out pretty well.
 
Rivera worked as a set designer and Miss
Graham was teaching acting and picking up acting gigs.
 
But then Rivera lost his job, and had to
result to freelancing, but it wasn’t paying the bills.
 
He relied heavily on Miss Graham during that
time.
 
And she did help him a lot.
 
But that’s when the jealousy and over-possessiveness
started.
 
That’s when he started accusing
Miss Graham of cheating on him.”

Mick
continued to look at the various photographs of Roz’s ex. “Was she?” he asked
without looking at Danny.
 
Although Mick
showed little interest, he was very much interested in the answer.

“We weren’t
able to find any instances of infidelity of any kind,” Danny said.
 
“So no sir, she was not unfaithful to Mr.
Rivera.”

Mick
expected that answer, but he was relieved to hear it anyway.
 
“But Rivera thought so?”

“He thought
so, yes, sir.
 
He became obsessed with
it.
 
As their relationship began to
crumble, his allegations became even more far-fetched.
 
That’s when he posted the nude photos on the
internet.”

Danny handed
Mick another folder.
 
“These,” he said.

Mick took
the second folder and opened it.
 
There
were nearly ten different pictures of Rosalind lying naked in her bed.
 
Of Rosalind getting out of the shower.
 
There were a couple shots of Rosalind on top
of Rivera, making love.
 
Mick’s jaw
tightened as he looked at those last two photographs.

Mick closed
the folder and crossed his legs.
 
“Take me
to him,” he ordered, and Danny alerted the driver.

Carmelo
Rivera grabbed his surf board and made his way back to the small beach house on
the Jersey Shore.
 
It wasn’t his
place.
 
He wasn’t even renting it.
 
He was house sitting for an out-of-town friend.
 
A lady friend.

But when he
placed his board in the garage and entered the small house, he was shocked to
see two men in his kitchen.
 
The big
bulky one was standing up.
 
The muscular
one, the extremely well dressed one, was sitting at the table with a folder in
front of him.
 
Since Carmelo wasn’t
certain if the men were friends of his friend, he remained calm.
 
“May I help you?” he asked.

“Sit down,”
Danny ordered.

Now Carmelo
was getting upset.
 
“You don’t tell me
what to do.
 
Who are you?
 
Are you looking for Lacy?”
 

Danny went
to Carmelo, grabbed him by the arm, and threw him down in the chair across from
Mick.

“What’s
going on here?” Carmelo asked angrily.
 
“Who are you people?”

Mick shoved
the folder across the table.

Carmelo
glanced at the folder.
 
“What’s this?”

“Look at it,
prick,” Danny ordered, “and stop asking so many fucking questions!”

Carmelo was
more nervous now.
 
These people looked
like Mafia.
 
He had no dealings with
Mafia types.
 
What was going on?

But he
opened the folder.
 
The answer,
apparently, was in that folder.

When Carmelo
saw the nude pictures of his ex Roz Graham, he actually felt relieved.
 
He looked at Mick.
 
“Nude pics of my girlfriend,” he said.
 
“So what?”

“There’s a
problem with that assessment,” Mick said.

Carmelo hesitated.
 
He knew Roz was no longer his
girlfriend.
 
Was that the problem?
 
Because he spoke as if she still was?
 
All kinds of possibilities raced through his
head.
 
What if this guy was her new
man?
 
What if there could be some
blackmail money in this for him?
 
His
anxiety lessened, and he immediately sought more information.
 
“A problem?” he asked.
 
“What kind of problem?”

“Those are
no longer nude photographs, or pics if you like, of your girlfriend.
 
Those are nude photographs of mine.”
 
Mick looked Carmelo in his eyes.
 
“I do not like the idea of those nude
photographs of my lady over the internet any more than you like the idea of
dying.”

Carmelo
swallowed hard when Mick said that last word.
 
And suddenly he knew blackmailing a man like this was crazy talk.
 
This man was no joke.
 
This man was serious as a heart attack.

“Both of
those matters are not going to be possible,” Mick added.

Carmelo
looked confused because he was. “Both of what matters are not going to be
possible?”

“There is no
way that those photographs can stay online, and you live.
 
Those two matters cannot possibly coexist in
this space and time.”

Carmelo’s
heart was now racing.
 
“What are you
saying?”

“I’m saying,
dickhead,” Mick answered, “that you take down every single one of those photographs,
or you die trying.
 
The choice is yours.”

“You kept
them in a controlled account,” Danny said, “which is good.
 
But you had better sweep it clean.
 
If we find one anywhere, that’s lights out
for you.”

“But it’s
not possible to get every single one---”

“Yes, it
is,” Danny said, “and you know it.
 
You
just have to be savvy, and you are.
 
I’ve
seen your internet footprint.”
  

Mick stood
up.
 
Danny stood Carmelo up.

Mick began
to walk toward Carmelo’s side of the table.
 
“What do you say, Mr. Rivera?” he asked.
 
“What is it going to be?
 
Life,
yours that is, or those photographs?”

Carmelo
nodded.
 
“I’ll take them down,” he said,
watching Mick’s approach as if he was fending off an attacker.
 
“I’ll take down every one.
 
I swear.”

“But in case
your word is as useless as the way you treated Rosalind,” Mick said, “I need
you to understand the seriousness.”

Mick was now
within an inch of him.
 
“What do you
mean?” he asked.

Mick grabbed
Carmelo by his fat neck and smashed his head through the window next to the
table, shattering the glass.
 
Cuts
immediately opened up on Carmelo’s handsome face and the blood began to gush.

“This is
what I mean,” Mick said angrily.
 
“Do you
understand my meaning now?”

“Yes, sir,”
Carmelo was crying.
 
“I understand, sir.
 
Yes, sir!”

“Hopefully
that makes it clearer,” Mick said.

“It does,”
Carmelo insisted.
 
It was all
appeasement, but he felt as if he was fighting for his life.
 
“I’ve never seen anything clearer!”

Mick looked
at the pitiful loser, and then let him go.

Carmelo
leaned his bloody face back into the house, holding onto his neck.

But as Mick
began to move away, to walk away, he thought about Rosalind.
 
And those photographs.
 
And how badly that prick had hurt her.
 
Face cuts didn’t seem to capture how Mick felt
about what that man did to Rosalind’s heart.
 
Rosalind’s heart deserved better than this.
 
“On second thought,” Mick said, turning
around.

As soon as
he turned, Carmelo tried to push back through the broken window, but it was too
late.
 
Mick pulled out his gun and shot
Carmelo within an inch of his penis.
 
Carmelo doubled over, terrified that he had actually struck his golden
cock, and then dropped to his knees.

“That’ll
make it clearer,” Mick said.
 
He handed
Danny the pistol, and then left the house.

Danny
emptied the gun’s chamber, and then threw the gun at Carmelo’s side.
 
“Accidents happen, right?” he asked Carmelo.

Carmelo was
nodding his head.
 
He was in agony, but
he knew he had to agree with whatever Danny said.
 
“Yes.
 
Accidents happen.”

“You did
this to yourself.
 
Didn’t you?”

Again
Carmelo nodded his head.
 
“I did it to
me.
 
I did it to myself, yes, sir.”

“Talk.
 
Tell anyone, even your mama, and you’re dead,
lover boy.
 
You’re dead and your dick
will be in the fucking river.
 
Understand?
 
Is that clear, too?”