The gunman lifted his gun to takeMick out, and he shot the gun out of Mick’s hand. But Mick jumped down on top of the gunman,and they struggled for dominance.
Mick ended up on the floor on hisback, with the gunman on top of him, and the two strongmen fought to controlthat rifle. Every vein in Mick’s bodywas popping as he fought with all he had to gain control.
And it worked. Mick’s strength was Herculean compared to thegunman’s strength and he was shakily able to turn that rifle away from his chinand aim it at the gunman’s chin. Thegunman kept fighting. He kept strugglingto regain his grip on that trigger. ButMick placed his own finger, not on the trigger, but on the gunman’s finger, andwith all the strength he pressed down on that finger, crushing the bones inthat finger and pulling the trigger at the same time. The rifle went off. And the gunman, a hole through his chin, fellover dead.
But Mick had no time to even sighrelief. Because he heard gunfire in theback of the apartment. Because hisbeloved son was in the back of that apartment with gunman number two.
Mick tossed the first gunman’s deadweight off of him, got off of that kitchen floor, grabbed his gun that had beendislodged from his hand, and ran to his son’s aid. He ran through that living room, and downthat hall. But, to his horror, thegunfire had already ceased by the time he ran into the room at the end of thehall.
“Teddy!” he yelled as he ran intothat room. Let him be alright, Lord,he was praying as he ran into that room, his heart barely able to handle it.
He saw Teddy, lying on his back, hisgun still smoking, as that second gunman was lying on that floor too. But the gunman was dead.
“I’m okay, Pop!” Teddy made clear,breathing heavily.
And Mick leaned against the door,both of his hands still on his own gun, as he was finally able to breatheagain.
“Recognize either one of’em?” Teddyasked.
Mick nodded. “Yes.”
Teddy was surprised. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know their names.”
“But you know who they work for?”
Mick hesitated. “Yes.”
“Who, Pop?”
Mick let out a long exhale. “Randazzo,” he said.
Teddy was stunned. It was the same name Pauley Jay hadgiven. The same name Mick had saidcouldn’t possibly be involved.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Billy Lancer held onto Roz with hiseyes tightly shut. She felt even betterthan he had dreamed she would feel. Herwonderful perfumed scent. Her smooth,bone-thin back. The way her arms feltaround him. The way her sweet breathfelt against his face. The way his penisbegan to enlarge just by holding her. But he knew then he had to pull back.
“Oh, Roz, it is so wonderful to seeyou again,” he said happily. “And youlook lovely.” The understatement of theyear, he thought.
“You too,” Roz said and theylaughed. But Roz wasn’t kidding. Billy Lancer was always the best looking guyin the room with his tall, slender frame and his tanned face and boyishly goodlooks. “It doesn’t look like you aged aday in twenty years, Billy!”
“Oh, don’t let this face fool you,”he said as Roz began walking behind her desk. “I’m ancient!”
Roz laughed.
That ass, Billy thought as he stared at thatass as she walked away from him. Thattight, beautiful ass he used to dream about, was still as potent-looking asever and moving side to side like she knew what gift it was to mankind. After Nat died, he used to think about Rozand would imagine Mick Sinatra pounding on that ass night after night afternight. They said Sinatra had a ferocioussexual appetite, and by all accounts Roz was the only object of hisaffection. Which was shocking tomost. But not to Billy. Before Nat died, she had been the only objectof his affection too.
But the more he used to think aboutRoz with Sinatra, the more it became too painful for him to deal with. Because then he thought about Mick the Tick,so he left it alone. But now that theplan was in full force and he was able to hold her in his arms, he was able toimagine himself doing the pounding.
“Sit down, please,” Roz said as shestood behind her desk. “If you havetime.”
“I only have a couple minutes,” Billylied. “I have a plane to catch. My own,” he added, and Roz smiled. And he immediately regretted saying it. Roz was married to Sinatra. Having his own plane wasn’t going to meanshit to her. Her husband had his ownplane and her husband’s corporation had their own planes. He had to remind himself to remember hewasn’t trying to impress some starlet. He had to remember to never try to impress Roz. She was too savvy for that. She’d see right through that. Keep it professional, Billy boy, he remindedhimself.
“I’m so sorry about Natalie,” Rozsaid as she sat down too. “I am so sorryfor your loss. She was a great actress,and seemingly a fantastic person all around. The world mourns with you.”
“Thank you, Roz. I miss her, that’s absolutely true. She was a wonderful wife.” But he had to remain focused. “But one thing about Nat,” he added, “shealways believed in moving on. Don’twallow, that was her motto. I’m tryingmy best to live that way too.”
“By moving on?”
“Yes! Life is too short. I’m not spending whatever remaining days Ihave living in the past. Natalie wouldhate that. I’m moving on.” Lie upon lie, he thought.
“Speaking of the past,” Roz said,“it’s been so long since I last saw you, Billy, I’m amazed I’m seeing you rightnow.”
“It’s been too long,” Billy said ashe crossed his legs and sat more sideways than straight up. The complete opposite, Roz thought, of howMick always sat in a chair. Mick crossedhis legs, but he was always sitting straight-back and straight-up. He always presented more as a businessmanthan a gangster, an image Mick cultivated. Roz wondered what image was Billy trying to cultivate because, she knew,everybody had an angle.
“I remember when you and I were sopoor we had to split one lunch,” Billy said, and they both laughed. “Those
