Big Daddy Sinatra_Bringing Down the Hammer Page 4

  “But I do look out for her,” Donald said, attempting to defend himself. But his father had already walked out.

  Charles pumped his gas quickly, got back onto the highway, and called Brent. He ordered him to meet him at the trailer park just in case. Although Brent was chief of police, and hardly a kid, his father still ordered him around. And Brent, like all of Charles’s children, weren’t about to defy him.

  Brent was already out on a call, a domestic, and said he could be there in less than fifteen minutes. But Charles got there faster. He had to see for himself just how rowdy this party really was, and if Ashley had enough sense to have gotten out already.

  But when he arrived at trailer number ninety-three, rowdy might have been an overstatement. There were only a few cars surrounding the trailer, and one of them belonged to his daughter. And there was an eerie silence around that entire area.

  Charles felt uneasy as he got out of his Jag and hurried up the wooden steps to the front door. He would have preferred noise and crowds to this. And when he knocked repeatedly, and got no answer, his personality didn’t allow him to reflect, try to call Ashley again, or hesitate. He wasn’t feeling uneasy for nothing. He leaned back, lifted up his expensive, dusty shoe, and kicked the door down.

  A man and a woman were lying on the living room floor, seemingly passed out drunk, but as Charles looked around there were no more signs of any activity. But Ashley’s car was there. Which meant Ashley was there. But it wasn’t until he scrambled down the hall looking for her did he hear voices on the other side of the trailer. And one of them was Ashley’s scream!

  Charles ran back through the living room to the bedroom on the front side of the trailer. He tried to open the door but it was locked. Again, no hesitation. He knew what he heard. He kicked that door down too.

  What he saw when the door flung open angered him so decidedly that all he saw was red. Ashley was butt-naked on the bed. One man, with his trousers down around his knees, had just pulled out his limp dick, and was telling her to shut the fuck up, while another man held her down.

  The guy with the dick, who looked stoned on something, turned when he heard the door fall. But he wasn’t so stoned that he didn’t realize who had entered that room. He immediately began to back away from Ashley. “Sir,” he said nervously as he backed up. “It’s not what you think, sir. It’s not what you think!”

  “Yes, it is, Daddy!” Ashley cried as she continued to try and wiggle away from the second man’s grasp. “Yes, it is!”

  The second man released her and backed away too. Like the dick, he also knew who Big Daddy was. But Charles didn’t give a fuck what they knew. He grabbed the dick by his actual dick and squeezed it so hard with one hand that he caused the guy to go down on his knees in agony.

  But Charles pulled him back up, by that same dick, and began beating him repeatedly in the face with his other hand. Only that hand was closed into a big fist and he was beating him in the same spot, over and over, until his rosy-red cheek was blood red, and a big gash opened.

  But if he thought that would be the end of his torment, he didn’t know Big Daddy as well as he had thought. The idea that this stupid fucker had attempted to force his daughter into having sex with him to the point of getting his buddy to hold her down, was not an action Charles was going to let go that easily.

  Charles lifted the terrified young man over his head, and then angrily threw him out of the closed bedroom window so violently that it shattered the glass, not to mention the kid’s skinny body, as he sailed through it.

  Outside, Brent Sinatra drove up in his truck just as the man came flying out of that bedroom window. Brent slammed on brakes. “What the hell?” he asked, shocked, as his truck and a backup patrol car arrived on the scene together. But then he realized his father’s Jaguar was already parked there. Which meant his father was there. Which meant, in Brent’s mind, that a crazy-ass move like that had Big Daddy written all over it.

  He got out of his truck in a hurry, still staring at the downed man. Then he glanced back at the two cops who were getting out too. “Cuff him and frisk him,” Brent ordered his men, and he ran across the dirt yard, up the steps, and into the trailer.

  Inside the trailer, the second man, the one who had been holding Ashley down, tried to make a run for it himself, especially when he saw what Charles had done to his buddy. But Charles jumped onto the bed, ran across it, and dived onto the younger man’s back. And he beat him down too. His fist was delivering blow after blow after ever-loving blow as he beat him even more violently than he had beaten his buddy. “Why don’t you hold me down, motherfucker,” Charles yelled as he beat him. “Hold me down! I want your ass to hold me down!”

  Ashley was happy her father was there, but she was crying and scrambling to put on clothes. But every piece of her clothing she could found had been ripped to shreds by her attackers. She was devastated. One of those attackers, the one her father was still beating down, was her boyfriend Steeny. A boyfriend she thought might have been the one. A boyfriend she now knew didn’t give a damn about her or he would have never held her down like that. And it hurt. She gave up trying to put on tattered clothing, and slid down against the wall, because it hurt so much.

  Brent ran into the room, and when he saw the fight, ran over to his father and tried to pull him off of Steeny.

  “Pop, you can’t do this!” he yelled. “Pop, break it up. Break it up!” he said with clenched teeth as all of his strength had to be utilized. “You gotta let law enforcement handle this!”

  “Fuck law enforcement!” Big Daddy yelled at his son. “This punk tried to rape Ash!”

  “But Pop,” Brent said, still trying to pull his father off of the suspect. He was a big man, too, but he was no match for his father’s muscular frame and strength. “Pop! You can’t keep doing this, Pop!” He finally managed to grab both of Charles’s arms, and pull him off of the kid.

  Charles jerked away from Brent and stood up, breathing heavily, as he stared down at the suspect. “There’s another one,” he said to Brent.

  “You mean the one you threw out the window?” Brent asked derisively. To his great dismay, his father was a law onto himself in Jericho. He owned most of the land, and he took the law into his own hands anytime he felt aggrieved. And he wondered why most of the town hated his guts. He wondered why most of the town deridingly called him Big Daddy. It was code for Big Brother. As in Uncle Sam. As in a government that had run amuck just like Charles!

  But Charles couldn’t care less what the townspeople thought of him. If somebody harmed one of his children, he was harming them. Period. End of discussion.

  He looked around for Ashley. When he saw her in that corner, he hurried to her. He stood her up and pulled her into his arms. “You okay, baby?” he asked her.

  Ashley was still hysterical. “Steeny tried to make me have sex with that other guy,” she cried. “I don’t even know him, Daddy. I’ve never seen him before in my life, but Steeny wanted me to have sex with him. When I refused, they attacked me. They locked me in this room and tried to force me—”

  “It’s okay,” Charles said, holding her and rubbing her long hair. “It’s okay.” Of all of his children, his adopted daughter Ashley and his youngest son Donald worried him the most. Ashley’s problem wasn’t that she was immature. That was Donald’s issue. Ashley’s problem was that she fell in love too fast and fell for the absolute wrong guy every single time. She was a beautiful African-American woman who could have any man she wanted, but she kept settling for men who were just like her deceased biological father: losers of the first degree.

  Charles removed his suit coat and wrapped it around Ashley’s naked body as Brent handcuffed Steeny and slung him to his feet.

  One of Brent’s patrolmen ran into the room shortly thereafter. “Everything okay in here, Chief?” he asked, and then was stunned when he saw the suspect’s bloody face.

  “Book this animal,” Brent said, shoving him toward his officer.

/>   “What charge, sir?” the officer asked as he grabbed the handcuffed suspect.

  “Assault for starters,” Brent said. “I’ll think of more later.”

  The patrolman looked at the badly beaten suspect. Looked like the suspect was the one who’d been assaulted. “Assault, sir?” he asked.

  “That’s what I said,” Brent said. He wasn’t ready to add attempted rape to the mix. He didn’t want his sister’s name associated with a rape attempt unless absolutely necessary. “Just do it.”

  “Yes, sir,” the patrolman said. He knew all too well that those Sinatras did pretty much whatever they wanted to do in Jericho. He grabbed the suspect and hauled him out of the room.

  Brent exhaled, and then walked over to his sister and father. “You okay?” he asked Ashley.

  She was still crying in her father’s arms and didn’t respond. Charles nodded. “She will be,” he said.

  “But Dad you can’t keep doing this,” Brent said. “How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t beat up on suspects like this? You’ve got to stop doing this!”

  “When these suspects stop harming my family, then I’ll stop harming them. They stir shit up, shits gonna keep stirring up.”

  Then Charles frowned. “Come on, Ash,” he said, a distressed look on his face. He didn’t like this drama any more than Brent did. But what did he expect him to do? Let two men try to gang rape his daughter, and do nothing?

  Like hell, he thought. “Let’s go home,” he said to Ashley, and escorted her out of that trailer.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Charles and Ashley made it home. Ashley went to her bedroom downstairs, and Charles went upstairs, to his master suite. Jenay was asleep in bed. Sound asleep. He stood there, undressing, and staring at her. She never again mentioned what happened at that banquet on yesterday, and he didn’t mention it either. What was he going to say? Kattia, as far as he knew, had gone back under the rock she had crawled out from, and Jenay trusted him overall. At this point, barring any new developments, they had a quiet truce.

  Normally, he would come home and shower before he got in bed. But he was too tired. He crawled into bed behind her, and he was barely able to do that.

  She was naked too as his dick rested against her ass, and he placed his arms around her. She stirred but did not wake. When his hand found its way to her breast, and began fondling it, she was then awakened. But barely.

  “What time is it?” she asked him.

  “Late,” he said.

  “Very late. I stayed up later than I should have waiting on you.”

  Charles smiled. “Why would you do a fool thing like that?”

  “I wonder,” Jenay said sleepily. “Where were you?”

  “Would you believe at the office?”

  “No.”

  “Would you believe rescuing our daughter from rapists?”

  Jenay woke up then. Because she would believe that! She turned toward him. “What happened?” she asked anxiously. “Is Ashley alright?”

  “She’s okay,” Charles said. “I sent her to bed.”

  “So what happened? Please don’t tell me she was--”

  “No,” Charles quickly interjected. “She wasn’t. They didn’t get a chance to complete their plan.”

  “Thank God! But what happened, Charles?”

  “Her boyfriend, some loser named Steeny, decides he wants a threesome. Or at least wants his buddy in on the let’s fuck Ashley act. I interrupted the act.”

  Jenay shook her head. “That girl and these boyfriends! When I was married to her father, I thought I had picked the short straw. But she’s beating me by leaps and bounds with her choices. I hope you beat their asses.”

  “You know it.”

  “You need to beat Ashley’s too.”

  “As if that’ll help,” Charles said. “She’s still sowing her wild oats. She’ll slow down eventually.”

  “You would have thought, when you gave that store to her and Donald, that would slow her down.”

  “I know. But she’ll slow down eventually.”

  “You always say that.”

  “It’s true.”

  Jenay smiled. “I hope you’re right,” she said as she kissed him on the lips, and then turned back around.

  She snuggled closer against him when she turned, and that little movement got Charles’s juices flowing. He placed his hand between her legs around the front and fingered her. When she became wet, he entered her.

  They made love quietly, without their usual gusto, as both of them were drained. But it still felt good. Charles inside of her always made Jenay feel as if they could conquer anything together because they loved each other just that much.

  Charles felt it too. He held onto Jenay as his dick continued to ease further and further into her. It was an easy fuck that kept him on the edge of cum from the moment he entered her. That magical place, he used to call Jenay’s sex, and that was what it felt like that night. A place no woman had ever taken him to.

  Kattia made a point of saying how her sexual interactions with Charles were great. The sex was great, he remembered her saying. And there was a time he thought so too. But he knew better now. He knew what great felt like now. Because compared to sex with Jenay, what he had with Kattia wasn’t even good.

  But that was what Jenay did to him. She elevated him and took him to an altered state where feelings were on a different level. And not just because of her great sex, but because of her. The woman herself. She took care of her man right. He used to think he took care of his woman right, too. But now, after seeing Kattia, after that argument they had where he saw that pain, that hurt, and that disappointment in Jenay’s eyes, he wasn’t so sure. She meant the world to him, and he suddenly felt a burning need to let her know.

  “You’re a special lady, Jenay,” he said to her as he continued to slow-fuck her. “Everything you did for me, and still do for me, I will never forget that.”

  Jenay wondered where this sudden need to give her props was coming from, and if that woman at that banquet had something to do with it, but she was still grateful. “I’ll never forget how good you’ve been to me, too, Charlie,” she said.

  “No comparison,” he said to her.

  “Yes, it is,” she said to him.

  But Charles was firm. “No, Jenay. There’s no comparison. I was just loving the coolest girl in school. You had to love the kid with issues.”

  Jenay laughed.

  Charles smiled, but then his look became serious again. “And the way you stepped in and loved my boys when their own mother didn’t give a damn,” he said. “That was a class move, Jenay. You didn’t have to do that. You were a young woman, but yet you married a man with four grown sons. You didn’t need that headache. I was headache enough! But you took it on.”

  Then he smiled. “Now my boys love you as if you birthed them yourself.”

  Jenay smiled. “That’s true. It didn’t start out that way, but I’m glad we got to this place.”

  Charles thought so too, as he fucked her. He remembered when Ashley and Carly’s father died, and how Jenay wanted them to adopt her former stepchildren. Charles agreed, not because he was looking forward to raising, at that time, two teenage girls. But he agreed because of Jenay. Then he met Ash and Carly and fell in love with them too. But it was all because of Jenay.

  He closed his eyes as his arousal grew and those feelings of love became feelings of passion. Special couldn’t begin to describe how he felt about her. He didn’t think this kind of love was even possible. Woman after woman. Disappointment after disappointment. He was measuring a woman’s worth by how good in bed she was. Because that was all it was about with him. Have sex and then move the hell on. They go their way. He went his. He wasn’t interested in conversation or their hopes and dreams. He just wanted their bodies. And, given the caliber of women he chose to date, they just wanted his.

  But the loneliness was there. And it was eating him alive. Until Jenay came along.

&nb
sp; Jenay closed her eyes, too, as his sexual strokes intensified and his talking devolved into labored breathing and sexual grunts and groans. She loved that he gave her props. Sometimes Charles forgot to do small things like that. He mastered the big stuff. Like providing for her, and making love to her, and spending time with her. But telling her how he felt was becoming more and more infrequent.

  But she was still bothered by that woman at that banquet. There was hurt in that woman’s eyes when she leaned down to tell Jenay something. As if there was a grave miscarriage of justice going on. As if she should have been the matriarch at the Sinatra table, and not Jenay. That look in her eyes still haunted Jenay.

  But Charles declared there was nothing to be bothered about. That he would never cheat on her. That the woman was a nobody trying to be messy. He wouldn’t even acknowledge that she was a woman from his past, which only heightened Jenay’s concerns.

  That was why Jenay tried to find the woman after that banquet, to have a conversation with her and reach her own conclusion. But the woman had already gone. She wasn’t about to ask around and put Charles’s business on the street since even Jenay’s friends would love to gossip about him and give his enemies more fodder, so she left it alone. All she had left was Charles’s word. A word she’d always trusted bar none.

  But she loved him so much that it was an uneasy trust. Because she knew, if Charles was being unfaithful to her, or hurt her heart in any way, it would be like a death to her. A death to all she ever thought was right and decent and good. A death to her faith in mankind itself. A death that would ensure she would never trust another human being ever again. Because Charles was that kind of man to her. He was what a good man, an honest man, a decent man looked like. He owned her heart just that completely. She had to trust him!

  But she relaxed as he continued to fuck her, and Charles relaxed too. And as ten minutes turned into twenty minutes that turned into thirty, that banquet and any other unresolved issues washed away. They realized just how much they needed to make this connection. It was slow and steady fucking, and they both remained on the edge of cum the entire time. What they felt in their hearts, and what they were experiencing in their bodies, was the very definition of great sex.