Mick Sinatra: Now Will You Weep by Mallory Monroe

Author:Mallory Monroe [Monroe, Mallory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781536982558
Amazon: 1536982555
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2016-08-09T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hugo Lebronski and Blanche Brown stepped out of his car and stumbled their way to his front door. It was eleven-thirty in the morning, but they had been drinking at the bar, and then at various parties around town, since two last nights. Now they both were tipsy and sleepy. Especially Hugo, who wanted nothing more than to forget the hell that was his life, and get some rest.

With some effort, he unlocked his door and they entered his home. It was a big home in Long Island. A beautiful home. A home that was once filled with a wife and four children. They left him and his drinking, womanizing, gambling years ago. Too many vices for one family to bear. House-wise or vice-wise, he never bothered to downsize.

He kissed Blanche hard as soon as they crossed the threshold, and then he closed and locked his front door. Nothing like good liquor to get him in the mood. Her too, now that she’d been with Hugo a few months.

But she had her pride. “Not here,” she said. “The floor is too cold.”

“I can heat you up, baby,” Hugo said, falling against her.

“Not here, Hugh,” she said again, pushing him away. “I won’t enjoy it like this!”

Hugo didn’t give a fuck how she would enjoy it, but he was too tired to argue with her. He, instead, put his arm around her waist, for support rather than affection, and they stumbled their way to the light switch. His curtains were almost always drawn, which meant his house was almost always imbued with darkness. Overcast even at midday. But opening a curtain would take too much effort. He turned on the light instead.

As soon as he did, and his dark house was illuminated, he and his woman both realized they were not alone. At first they both were startled. Blanche even screamed one of those half second scare screams. But when they managed to see who it was in the home, who it was that was sitting so calmly on the middle cushion of the sofa, they were no longer startled. They were downright terrified. Because they both knew Mick Sinatra. Because they both knew a man like him wasn’t in that home, on that couch, for the hell of it.

With fear came the need to shield the truth. Ignorance set in, even when it wasn’t necessary. “Micky?” Hugo asked. “Micky Sinatra? That you?”

Mick didn’t respond to such idiocy. He and Hugo went back nearly a decade. They knew each other too well.

Hugo knew it too. When his heart slowed down from its excessive beating, he calmed down too. He hadn’t seen Mick in a long time. There was no reason for him to be in his home. Hugo wanted to believe that it wasn’t a kill call after all. That it wasn’t what it felt like it was.

“How are you, Micky?” Blanche decided to try. “It’s been a long time.”

When Mick didn’t respond to Blanche either, Hugo knew he meant business.

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