Riding The Edge

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Normally, after not being able to get in touch with him, I would’ve called his wife, Adrianna but everyone at Rab’s was talking about her cousin Rocco, who also happened to take over her late father’s criminal enterprise, and how he had gotten shot in front of Lincoln Center. Knowing my son, he was probably sniffing around the mob, lending his expertise to the fallen gangster. I wouldn’t be surprised if that gym of his is just a front. After all, there are only two ways out of the mob. The first is in a body bag. The second is cooperating with the feds, which would make my son a rat and Anthony may be a lot of things but he’s no snitch.

  At least I raised him to be loyal.

  Rolling my eyes, I sling my purse over my shoulder and kick my car door shut. Crossing the street, my heels click across the pavement as I make my way towards my daughter’s house. As I grow closer, I can hear my grandsons, Eric and Robert and I smile at the sound of their boisterous voices, knowing they are probably running wild around the house playing as boys usually do.

  Ringing the bell, I wait for them to quiet down and for someone to answer the door. Instead, I hear Riggs shout from inside the house.

  “Shit, it’s your mother!”

  Have I mentioned he’s not my favorite? Like at all.

  “I heard that,” I call to the door.

  “What’s the secret word?” he replies.

  I suppose I should feel a bit relieved that he’s home and not dead in the gutter somewhere.

  “You’re an idiot,” I hiss. “Now, open the damn door or I’ll tear it down.”

  Lady or not, I’m not above ditching the heels and kicking in a door. When your husband is a gambling fool and pisses away your grocery money, you learn to throw down. I may or may not have broken up my share of poker games.

  “Uh, just a second Mama Leone,” he sing-songs.

  Another ridiculous nickname.

  Another minute or so passes before he opens the door wearing a pair of jeans and his signature shades. I never understood the fascination to cover his crystal blue eyes but then again, there isn’t much I understand about the man my daughter chose to spend her life with. To say he is a character is putting it mildly. He’s eccentric as the day is long and some of the things that come out of his mouth make me look like Mother Teresa. Still, there are a few endearing qualities to the guy who calls himself Tiger. He’s generous and has a pretty good heart. He also is a fantastic father which makes it easy to forget he’s a total tool who duct taped my mouth shut and shoved me in the back of a car.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite Italian,” Riggs greets, blocking me from entering the house.

  “Save it,” I tell him, pushing a hand to his chest. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

  “Grandma!” Eric calls from behind his father. With a forceful shove, I push his father out of the way and crouch down as my little guy comes charging for me. Tossing my purse onto the floor, I swoop him into my arms. “Is it Christmas?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my neck.

  “No, baby, it’s summertime. Santa Claus comes in the winter,” I tell him, looking over his shoulder at his father. “Why does he think it’s Christmas?”

  “Because Uncle Anthony is here too,” Eric answers.

  “Shit,” Riggs mutters, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head.

  “Hi Mom,” Lauren calls. Drawing my attention away from Riggs, I stare at my very pregnant daughter and my other grandson who hangs on her leg. “What brings you by?”

  “What’s going on here?” I question, narrowing my eyebrows.

  “Uncle Anthony is hiding from you,” Eric reveals.

  “Eric,” Riggs and Lauren hiss simultaneously.

  “Mom, before you—”

  “Where is he?” I interrupt, setting Eric on his feet.

  “I’m right here,” my son grunts.

  At the sound of his voice, I turn and take in his appearance. I stare at the multitude of bruises covering his handsome face and the cut above his eye that will likely scar. It’s not the first time I’ve seen my son look like a prize fighter and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I’m also sure he didn’t get those purple splotches on his face in the ring.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I mutter, shaking my head. “No wonder you didn’t answer my calls.”

  “Eric why don’t you take your brother into the playroom and grab the pictures you made for grandma,” Lauren suggests as I walk further into the room and meet my son’s gaze.

  “This have anything to do with your wife’s cousin getting shot?”

  Wincing, he crosses his arms and remains silent. Victor Pastore not only snatched my son right under my nose but he taught him not to disclose anything to anyone, not even his mother.

  “Adrianna thinks I’m off the grid trying to franchise the gym and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “You keep lying to that girl you’re going to ruin your marriage,” I warn before slicing my gaze back to Riggs. “Is this why you weren’t at the hospital with Wolf?”

  I don’t agree with it, but I can understand why Riggs wasn’t with Wolf. As far as I’m concerned, the rest of them have no excuse unless of course, they’re lying in a ditch somewhere.

  “What do you know about Wolf being in the hospital?” he counters.

  “I know he was alone,” I reply. “The man’s son was shot as a result of this gang shit you people do and no one, not any of you leather wearing hoodlums were at his side.”

  “It’s complicated,” Riggs replies.

  “How do you know any of this, anyway?” Anthony interjects.

  “I was with him.”

  “Come again?” Riggs says, widening his eyes as he leans closer. “You were with Wolf??”

  “For the love of God, you make it sound like I was in bed with him,” I hiss.

  “Oh God, Mom, stop!” Lauren says, causing me to roll my eyes at her.

  “I’m your mother, Lauren, that doesn’t mean I’m dead.”

  “Alright, I think we’re veering off track because suddenly I’m getting visuals of you pulling on his beard—”

  “Riggs!”

  “What?” he feigns innocently. “You’re thinking it too,” he accuses Lauren.

  “That’s enough!” Anthony grunts, fixing me with a look. I swear this kid forgets I changed his diapers. “Why don’t you start with telling us why you were at the hospital?”

  Telling either one of my children I was there for a routine mammogram would only send them spiraling with an onslaught of questions I had no patience to answer. Lauren would blow things out of proportion and my son the king, would demand to know why I didn’t ask him to come hold my hand while my tits got squished in a machine.

  “I was picking up my birth control,” I retorted sarcastically. “Now, cut the crap,” I add, slicing my eyes back to Riggs. “I don’t know what the hell you people are up to, but that man was good to you and to me when Lauren and Eric were fighting to survive. He deserves the same respect.”

  “When did you become Wolf’s cheerleader?” Anthony shouts behind me.

  “I’m not a cheerleader, I’m a mother… your mother, something you seem to have forgotten,” I say poking a finger at him. “Watch the tone of your voice.”

  “I got respect for Wolf, Maria,” Riggs replies.

  “Uh, guys…”

  Ignoring Lauren, Riggs continues to argue his point to me

  “But there is shit going on that you don’t know about.”

  “All I’m saying is you should’ve been there for him,” I retort.

  “Mom,” Lauren cries.

  “I would’ve been there if I wasn’t nailing a Russian gangster to the cross. The same prick who is responsible for a bunch of girls going missing, one of them being Cobra’s sister. Now, half the club has been detained in Purchase, New York and Jack and Pipe are on their way—”

  “Riggs!” Lauren shrieks, forcing us all to turn to her.

  Clutching her stomach, she grimaces and drags in a deep
breath.

  “My water broke,” she croaks.

  “Oh shit,” Riggs exclaims. “The cub is coming!”

  Instinctively my eyes lower, taking in the water trickling down her legs. After being forced to deliver Eric by c-section, Robert’s was scheduled and with this third baby, she was set to go in next week. Panic floods my daughter’s features as she reaches for me.

  “Mom,” she cries.

  “It’s fine,” I assure her, squeezing her hand. “This baby just wants to join this crazy family a little sooner than expected,” I tell her, looking over my shoulder. “Get the car,” I order Riggs.

  “I’m going to have three kids,” he mutters.

  “Riggs, focus,” I hiss, turning to my son. “Anthony, go get some towels.”

  “What about the boys?” Lauren questions. “Adrianna was going to take them when I delivered. Now, with this whole—”

  “Shh,” I whisper. “Everything is going to be okay. Anthony will stay here with the boys and me and Riggs will come with you to the hospital.”

  “What if it’s too late for a c-section?”

  “Stop worrying,” I tell her. Taking the towels from Anthony, I get on my knees and wipe the water from her legs as my son gives his sister a pep talk. The boys run into the room and Lauren showers them with hugs and kisses, promising the next time they see her, she’ll introduce them to their brother or sister. A moment later, Riggs rushes back into the house as I hurry up the stairs to grab her bag. Once we’re buckled in the car, the self-proclaimed Tiger takes off like he’s a participant in the Indy 500 race.

  Ten minutes later, he pulls in front of the hospital. Hurrying out of the car, I run inside and check Lauren in as Riggs carries her inside. Immediately they bring her into a room and examine her. Once the doctor declares she’s in labor and has already dilated to four centimeters, things start moving. Since she’s had two c-sections, the OBGYN decides its best to rush her in for a third and as Lauren is prepped for surgery, Riggs is handed a pair of scrubs. I help him tie the mask around his face, give him a hug and promise to call his parents. Then I kiss them both and watch Riggs take Lauren’s hand. Tears well in my eyes as he walks alongside her, and she’s wheeled towards the operating room.

  The next time I see my girl, she’ll be a mother of three. Its crazy how time goes by so quickly. It seems like just yesterday she was ripping the heads off her Barbie dolls and coloring on the walls. Now, she’s got a beautiful family of her own and walls full of her own children’s artwork.

  Finding the waiting room, I take a seat and lift my eyes to the clock on the wall. A half hour later, Riggs bursts through the doors with a smile from ear to ear.

  “It’s a boy!”

  Anthony Montgomery was born weighing seven pounds on the scale and ten tons of love in our hearts.

  Life was good.

  It was beautiful.

  Chapter Five

  There was no change in Nico and the joy of knowing he survived surgery had long faded and been replaced with more worry. Twenty-four hours later, he was still on the vent and had yet to wake up. The doctors assured us this was normal and reiterated the fact that his body had suffered a great trauma. However, that didn’t stop Patty from having a meltdown. The woman barely left his side which meant I was a permanent fixture floating around the hallways of the hospital. At least, I didn’t smell like gasoline anymore. I don’t know if the nurses took pity on me or if they couldn’t bear to smell me anymore. Whatever the case, after Enzo returned with a change of clothes, they let me use one of the showers.

  Now dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, I feel slightly human as I make my way towards the cafeteria. Rounding the corner, I lift my head and am surprised to find Pipe and Jack walking straight towards me. Both of them look as worn and ragged as I feel and are dressed in the same clothes I saw them wearing last. As I watch them advance toward me, I can’t help but think back to the early years, when the three of us were inseparable. A time when there was no question whether any of us would bleed for the other and the streets of Brooklyn were ours.

  “Brother,” Jack calls.

  It was the word that bound us together and made us family. A word that assured every man with a patch they weren’t alone in this cold world. A word married to a code of respect.

  “How’s your boy?” Pipe asks as they come to stand before me.

  “Alive,” I say simply. Crossing my arms against my chest, I divert my eyes to Jack. For years I’ve stared into those dark irises trying to make sense of the crazy inside his head and now, I can give a fuck less if his maker is singing to him. It’s high time me and that bitch get acquainted. Call me bitter, but having your ass tied to a chair by a man and a club you’ve given years of your life to, will do that to you. It will destroy what took years to build and leave you hungry for retribution.

  Studying me, Jack places a hand on Pipe’s shoulder.

  “Give us a minute,” he tells him.

  Hesitantly, Pipe stares between the two of us before giving Jack a tight nod.

  “Nico allowed visitors?”

  “No,” I snap. “He’s in intensive care.”

  “What’s going on here?” Pipe questions angrily. “You got something you need to get off your chest?”

  The balls on this cocksucker. He stood there quietly while this deranged motherfucker wreaked havoc on our brotherhood, forgetting how many times I saved his ass in juvie or that I’m the motherfucker who gave him a fucking place in this club.

  “I said, give us a minute,” Jack growls.

  “Careful, now,” I warn. “You should do as he says, or he might tie you up. There ain’t no gasoline around here but I wouldn’t put it past him to piss on you.”

  “Watch your step, Wolf,” Pipe sneers, biting the inside of his cheek as he levels me with a glare.

  “You seem to forget your hand in this fucking mess.”

  The only sin I’ve committed was keeping my word to a brother who I thought was true. If either of them were in my shoes, if they were sitting there with Cain as he drew his final breath, they would’ve promised to look out for his boy too. Maybe I was wrong for keeping Linc’s identity a secret. I’ll admit that much but, I had no fucking idea Cain was a treacherous bastard who played us dirty. I exhausted every waking minute trying to uncover what he had done and when I did when I learned he had sold our souls to that grimy motherfucker, Yankovich, I cautiously tried to figure a way to tell Jack the truth. I yielded to his illness just as I always did because I knew he was living on borrowed time. This poor bastard was going to lose his battle with manic depression and I never wanted it to be done on my watch. Yet, here I am, pleading my case to a bunch of men who swore to bust through locked doors for me and mine. If that don’t make me a fool, I don’t know what does.

  Tossing a look to Jack, Pipe turns and disappears down the hallway.

  And then there were two.

  Silently, I lean against the wall and watch him pace in front of me. Finally, after several minutes, he lifts his dark eyes to mine.

  “Got your niece back,” he starts. “Yankovich’s brother, Igor, was the one who broke into your house, shot your son and took Kelly.

  With Nico being in such critical condition, the last twenty-four hours have been a blur and I’m ashamed to admit, Kelly didn’t cross my mind as much as she should have. Swiping my hand over my beard, I look away. Knowing everything Yankovich has done in the past, dread churns in my gut as I fear what he might’ve done to Kelly.

  “She’s in a hospital in Purchase, New York,” he reveals. “Turns out, Bas and Needles were right about that cunt hiding out in his mansion. When we got there, we busted through the gates and Pipe lit that shit ablaze with his bombs. Yankovich had Kelly naked and bound to a diving board—”

  “Naked,” I croak.

  “He didn’t rape her,” he replies instantly. “But the motherfucker knew she couldn’t swim and threw her into the water. Linc dove in after her…”


  I stop listening after that and get lost in my own head. I wasn’t aware Kelly couldn’t swim. To think this cocksucker had been watching all of us for years, learning all our weakness and planning our demise, makes my blood boil.

  “Where is Yankovich now?” I ask, interrupting Jack.

  “Him, his brother and all their soldiers are on ice in the morgue,” he replies. “The state took the wife or whatever she is and the two kids.”

  “You make him suffer?” I ask, turning to meet his gaze.

  Every fucking battle and every enemy who tried to stand in our way, thirty plus years of delivering retribution and defending our honor, it all flashes between us.

  “What do you think?” he says. “We came armed with a flask of acid and a letter from Ally. I only wish I could do it over and over. Ain’t no sweeter sound than a spineless bitch crying as he begs you to spare him or his anguished screams as you melt him from the inside out.”

  Nodding, I uncross my arms and shove my hands in the front pockets of my jeans.

  “Linc is with Kelly and if everything checks out, she’ll be released today or the latest tomorrow. Cops up in Purchase took in a few of the guys but nothing stuck and they got released this morning.”

  Stepping closer to me, he glances around the empty hallway before bringing the tone of his voice down a few notches.

  “We told them one of Yankovich’s men followed your sons to the garage and shot the paramedic. Figuring we’d go after him, he took the ambulance back to Purchase,” he says. “You took your son here, and we went after him.”