Big Daddy Sinatra 3: The Best of My Love (The Sinatras of Jericho County) by Mallory Monroe Read Free Book Online

house
dispute, not on Brent’s watch.   He got
out of his truck and ran across the driveway, up onto the porch, and hurried
into the house.
    When
he saw his father pointing a gun at EllieMae, and he saw EllieMae, a woman with
whom he attended the same high school, with a knife at her daughter’s throat,
he froze.   “Good Lord,” he said.
    And
EllieMae immediately appealed to Brent.   “Tell your daddy to get out of here, Brent,” she begged.   “Tell him to get out of here and leave me the
hell alone!”
    “I’ll
be happy to leave you alone,” Charles said.   “But you’re getting out of my house.”
    “Wanna
bet?” EllieMae taunted.
    Charles
immediately fired his gun within an inch of her feet.   “I don’t bet,” he said.
    Brent,
Peter, and EllieMae were stunned that Big Daddy would discharge his weapon
right in front of that little girl.   Ellie,
especially, was so thrown that she lost her balance, fell backwards, and the
knife flew from her hand.   Brent then
grabbed the now crying little girl, and Peter grabbed the knife.   EllieMae remained on the floor, crying too.
    Brent
looked at Peter, who was just standing there.   “Well?” he asked.
    “Sir?”
    “Cuff
her.”
    “Cuff
her, sir?”
    “Yes,
Peter, cuff her!   Arrest her.   She had a knife to her own child’s
throat.   What the hell is wrong with
you?”
    “I
didn’t figure she did anything wrong,” Peter said, and Charles looked at him
then.   “She only used this knife to stop
Big Daddy from kicking her out.”
    “So
that makes it all right?” Charles asked the young officer.   “Is that what you’re telling him?”
    “You
shot at her. That’s wrong too.”
    “She
had a knife to a child’s throat,” Charles reminded the officer.   “What did you expect me to do?   Hope for the best and wait and see if she was
serious or not the way your ass was doing?”
    “Let
me handle this, Big Daddy,” Brent said.  
    Charles
was surprised that his oldest child, a son he had when he was only seventeen,
would use that derogatory term that he knew his father hated.  
    And
Brent knew he hated it.   That was why he
used it.   He turned to his officer.   “Cuff her, frisk her, and haul her downtown,”
he ordered.
    But
when Peter hesitated again, Brent exhaled.   “Here,” he said, handing over the little girl and taking the knife from
Peter.   “Take her over to CPS.”
    “No!”
EllieMae yelled.   “They’ll take my baby
away from me.   You take my baby to my
mama house!”
    Brent
knew her “mama house” was a worse situation than her house.   “Take the baby to Child Welfare,” Brent
ordered.   “Let them decided what’s best.”
    Peter
nodded.   “Yes, sir,” he said.   It was instructive to Charles that the little
girl looked at her mother, but did not ask to stay with her.   She looked relieved to be leaving there.   She gladly left with Peter.
    Charles
shook his head.   “You’re hiring social
workers or cops, Brent?”
    “He’s
a good kid, Pop.   He just needs a little
more training.”
    “Oh,
yeah?” Charles asked, unconvinced.   “Is
that what he needs?   But that’s not my
problem, you’re right about that.   I’ll
send a cleaning crew in here once she’s gone.   I’m late for a meeting.”
    “You
still want her things put out, or can your people put her stuff in storage?”
      Charles didn’t feel the tenant deserved that
consideration, but   he nodded.   “I’ll order it,” he said.
    “Thanks,
Dad,” Brent responded and Charles squeezed his son’s arm and began to
leave.   Then Brent thought about his
visit with Makayla Ross this morning.   “Oh,
and Dad,” he said.
    Charles
looked back, but kept walking.   “Yeah?”
    “We
need to talk.”
    “I
told you I was late for a meeting.   Talk
to me tonight at the family dinner.   Can
it wait until tonight?”
    Brent
nodded.   “It can wait,” he said.
    But
Charles sensed he wanted to say more.