Besides, I know I’m fine.
Like the nurse said, it’s likely a nodule or a cyst.
There’s nothing wrong with me.
Chapter Seven
It wasn’t long after I expressed my frustrations to my unconscious son that he actually opened his eyes. I had just finished accusing him of fucking with me, telling him I’d rather be in the can with a cellmate who went by the name of Mr. Big, then having to be stuck in this room with his mother another minute. Patty was becoming unbearable; the food was horrid, and the sight of doctors still agitated the fuck out of me.
As I finished my tirade, a knock sounded behind me. At first, I figured it was Patty or her sister returning to bust my balls a little more. Instead, I turned and found Linc standing in the doorway, holding a bag from my favorite pork store.
“I come bearing gifts,” he said.
“If that’s some vegan-friendly bullshit—”
“Thank fucking Christ, you’re back,” my niece Kelly, interrupted, stepping into the room. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see the pain in the ass with bright pink hair. However, I could’ve lived without seeing her face so badly bruised. She looked ten times worse than when she showed up on my doorstep with a shiner. Then, it was some elusive ex of hers that put his hands on her, this time it was one of my enemies and that didn’t fucking sit right with me. I crooked my finger, beckoning her to come closer to me.
“Get over here,” I growled.
Closing the distance between us, she moved to hug me, but I quickly pinned her arms to her sides and lifted my hands to her face. Gently brushing my fingers over the bruises covering her skin, I peered into her eyes, hoping she could see the sorrow reflected in mine.
“Are you okay?” I asked gruffly.
“I am now,” she replied. With a nod, I leaned in and pressed my lips to her forehead.
“I’m sorry,” I said hoarsely. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Wolf,” Linc called from behind her. “This shit with Yankovich was out of anyone’s control.”
I knew the kid was right but the longer I sat in that hospital replaying the last few weeks, the more I started to doubt my choices. I wondered if I had revealed the truth of him being Cain’s son when he first had asked if we might’ve been able to put the pieces together sooner. Yankovich’s motive would’ve been discovered and his brother wouldn’t have had the chance to ambush my house, shoot my son and terrorize my niece.
“We saw Patty outside, and she said Nico is stable,” Kelly said.
“That’s right,” I replied, clearing my throat. “Maybe you can get the stubborn shit to open his eyes,” I add, stepping out her way. Giving her a moment, I focused on Linc and the brown paper bag he’s holding. “What’s in the bag, kid?”
“A salami and mortadella hero.”
“Oil and vinegar?”
“Just the way you like it.”
For a byproduct of two junkies, Linc was a good kid. He was loyal, respectful and tough as nails. There aren’t too many people in this world who can handle all that he has and yet somehow, he’s pushed through watching his ex-girlfriend be murdered and regained the use of his legs after multiple surgeries. If he ain’t a warrior, I don’t know who the fuck is.
Snatching the hero out of his hand, I glance at Kelly and watch her take a seat on the edge of Nico’s bed. Bringing my eyes back to Linc, I stepped closer and lowered my voice.
“You check in with Parrish?”
“No,” he replied, jutting his chin towards Kelly. “I didn’t want to leave her. Besides, she insisted on coming here to see Nico.”
“I haven’t been home. Enzo went by to get me some clothes but other than that no one has been there to clean the mess,” I say. Reaching behind me, I dig into my back pocket and pull out my credit card. As long as they’re living under my roof, they are my responsibility.
“Take it,” I demand, splaying my palm against his chest. “Go get a room for the two of you at the Hilton Garden Inn and while you’re at it, go to Lorenzo’s and order a fucking steak.”
“What about you?”
“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” I said. “You get Kelly situated at the hotel. She’ll be safe there and then you go check in with your president. I’ll send a crew out to clean up the house and get you guys back home as soon as possible.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied, narrowing his eyes. I was no fool and apparently neither was Linc. If anyone knew the bad blood, I harbored it was Linc, seeing as he was the brother tied to the chair beside me. “Has Jack been here yet?”
“Uncle Al,” Kelly calls. “Nico just squeezed my hand.”
At the sign of life, I dropped the sandwich and spin around. Rushing to the bed, I watched him squeeze Kelly’s hand again before his eyes fluttered open. The relief I felt trumped how I felt when the doctors updated us after the surgery. There was nothing like looking into your kid’s eyes after he had suffered through such an ordeal.
Once Nico started to focus, he realized where he was and reached to pull the vent from his mouth. Linc hurried to get a nurse and Kelly and I both, attempted to calm him down. It wasn’t so much fear I saw reflected in his eyes but, rather anger. I knew for certain, my son was cut from the same cloth as I and it would only be a matter of time before he wanted revenge.
As Patty returned from her cigarette break, the doctors joined us and asked Kelly and Linc to leave. They examined him and cleared us to go back inside. Nico kept nodding off, but we were assured that was normal. A couple of hours later they removed the vent and told us we should let him rest. His throat would be sore from the tube and it would take some time for him to speak.
Neither of us wanted to leave him but Nico was lucid enough to lift a finger and point towards the door. Maybe the kid had heard all the bickering we did after all and was happy to get rid of his mother and me. Can’t say I blame him. I was getting tired of listening to us go back and forth too.
However, leaving the hospital meant I could no longer avoid the inevitable. Not only did I have to go home and stare at my son’s blood on the floor but, I also had to sit down with my club. By now, I thought I would’ve changed my mind in regard to handing in my patch. I figured the magnitude of the act would settle in and I’d question my choice. It shouldn’t be easy for a man to walk away from thirty years of service. Truthfully, if it was anyone else, I’d probably give them shit. I’d call them a pussy and spit in their face. After the anger subsided, I’d remind them of the oath they took and the brotherhood of which it stands. I’d tell them we all got a cross to bear, and this is theirs.
Killing my engine, I remove the helmet from my head and take in the lone Harley parked on the lot. Nowadays, when it seems like everyone is out for our blood, it’s very rare for Jack to be alone. Approaching the garage, I spot him sitting on a crate, shirtless. My eyes dart to his shoulder and the fresh black ink covering the tribute to Cain he had tattooed to his skin. For years, Jack wore that man’s name on him as proudly as he wore his cut. Now, all that remains of Cain is the darkness of his dishonor and the heavy burden of his deceit.
Lifting his head, our eyes lock and the air shifts with tension. He doesn’t question my presence and I don’t acknowledge the tattoo. Instead, I silently enter the garage and let my gaze sweep around the room.
“Where is everyone?”
“They left after I smashed the table,” he replies.
My gaze wanders to the beloved table that now sits in ruins. It wasn’t that long ago that, the nomads recovered that thing from the remains of our clubhouse. We all knew how much that table meant to Jack. In fact, part of me believes he held that handcrafted table in such high regard because it allowed him to preserve a piece of Cain’s legacy.
“Turns out that mallet is good for a lot of things,” he adds, rising from the crate.
Crossing the room, he grabs his leather vest that’s draped over a tool chest and shrugs it on. Grunting as
it brushes against his sore shoulder, he fixes me with a stare.
“Linc was here earlier,” he says. “Told us all your boy woke up.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “Thank God.”
“That ain’t why you’re here though,” he continues. I gave up on trying to read Jack’s mind, knowing only the truly twisted are privy to that wonder and yet still, I can’t help but be curious as to what he is thinking as he stares at me.
“No, it’s not,” I say, clearing my throat.
Diverting his eyes to the left, he takes in the barren spot on my vest that once was home to my officer patch.
“Didn’t waste no time cutting that shit from your leather,” he growls.
Reaching into my pocket, I produce the patch that’s labeled me the treasurer of the Satan’s Knights for decades and trace the pad of my thumb over each letter.
“It’s not about the club,” I start, lifting my gaze to his. “It’s about me.”
“Right,” he says with a nod. Taking two steps closer, he holds out his hand expectantly.
“You’re not going to try to persuade me to change my mind?”
“No, I’m not. I might not like it but, I respect your choice.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I had prepared to go head to head with him and now he’s changed the rules of the game. Swallowing, I close the distance between us and drop my patch into his palm. He doesn’t even bother looking at it before he stows it away in his pocket.
“Before you give me Cain’s truth, I’m going to deliver you, yours,” he reveals, crossing his arms against his chest. “I won’t admit this to anyone else, but this is the right move for you. We all got something, Wolf, something that keeps us breathing through the mayhem.”
I know what comes next. I’ve heard him deliver variations of the same speech countless times over the years. Too bad he’s a day late and a dollar short.
“Like you’ve been by my side the last three decades, I’ve been by yours too. I saw you try your hardest with Patty. Then, with Carmela, you tried to right the wrongs of your first marriage. You put your marriage before the club until Junior’s death. Then you put me and mine before yours. My mind might fail me, but I’ll never forget how you stood next to me as I made the arrangements for my son’s funeral or how you never left his side until they lowered him into the earth. It wasn’t long after that before you were onto marriage number three, stopping off every Monday to buy Sophie flowers and teaching your nice Jewish girl how to make a pot of sauce on a Sunday.”
The trip down memory lane suddenly feels like an episode of Divorce Court.
“What’s your point, Parrish?”
“You look in the mirror and see a failure, I look at you and see a man who wanted a family more than he wanted anything else in this life. We’ll always be brothers and you will always have a place in my family…”
“Save me the property of Parrish speech.”
“It's time you go and find your heart, Wolf.”
This guy really is off his rocker. Yeah, I wanted a family. Sunday dinners and big holidays where I got the chance to dress up in a red suit. A good woman and a house full of kids. While they’re grown now and didn’t live with me full-time, I got the kid part. I even dressed up as old Saint Nick a time or two. However, I never nailed the right woman and at my age, I sure as fuck ain’t looking for wife number four. Besides, there probably isn’t a divorce attorney in the tri-state area that will take me on as a client. The most I’m willing to tackle is a hobby or whatever it is that you do when you retire. Plus, it would be nice to spend more time with my kids. Learn their likes and dislikes. Their beliefs and their dreams.
“I need you back at the table,” he says, tearing me away from my thoughts. “The doctor wants to change my medication. Apparently, there is some new drug to treat the crazy. Blackie is ready to take over,” he reveals, running his fingers through his hair. “But he’s going to need someone at his right and that someone should be you. Figure out what’s lacking, find it and take your rank as the vice president of this club.”
Ignoring the nod for the vice president, I harp on his illness.
“You said they’re changing your medication. That’s a good thing. If it works, you can—”
“I’m losing my fucking mind, Wolf, and I can’t control it no more. I tied you up and poured gasoline over you. I could’ve killed you and Linc like I killed that paramedic. My actions have brought a ton of heat onto the club and I swore if my mind ever compromised my abilities to rule, I’d stand down. That time is coming, brother, and it’s coming soon.”
I want to tell you that I’ve been preparing for this day, that in the back of mind I have a plan for the club. However, this might be the first time, I have nothing. I think I’ve spent all these years hoping and praying he’d prevail. To hear him admit the end is drawing near makes me question my decision and before I realize it, I’m the one holding out my hand expecting him to return my patch.
“No,” he defies. “You took it off—”
“That’s before I knew—”
“And I won’t be the reason you put it on again. You want your patch back then go make a life for yourself because man, I promise you, you’re going to need a reprieve from this shit.”
“This is my life.”
It’s the only one I know.
The only one I got.
“It’s not,” he says with conviction.
“The backlash of Cain is going to get messy, Jack. When everyone discovers he was working with Yankovich, they will toss dirt on the name we’ve made for our club and question our morals. All the enemies we’ve managed to keep at bay will come charging for us and the alliances we made will hide in the shadows.”
“I said my days are numbered, didn’t say they were up, Wolf,” he reiterates. “I’ll handle the repercussions, but, first, you’re going to tell me everything you know. Then when you’re done, when all the truth is laid bare, you’re going to walk out of this garage and you’re going to do whatever it takes to make yourself right. You come back, Wolf, you come back, you keep my daughter’s man alive, so he can be there for her when it's her mind that starts to fail.”
I came here thinking I’d be the one releasing a burden. I never expected to leave with the weight of the club’s destiny and Jack’s illness on my shoulders. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I motion to the crate.
“You might want to sit down for this.”
He doesn’t move at first but eventually, he grabs the grate and takes a seat. Crossing his arms, he gives me his undivided attention as I start from the very beginning to the day Cain purposely overdosed and asked me to look out for his son. I fill in the blanks concerning Linc, revealing how I hooked him up with the North Carolina charter and why we decided for him to come to back to Brooklyn with me. I told him about the concerns I had about revealing his identity. Throughout his time as monarch, he made a lot of enemies—enemies, that are still looking for their retribution. The last thing I wanted was for Linc to fall victim to his father’s sins.
Next, I recalled the conversation that drove me to dig into Cain’s past. I was sitting across from Linc after the motel fire that ended with Deuce taking a bullet, warning him off my niece and ordering him to keep his head clear. You see, at the time we thought we could send Linc into a high stakes card game to bait Yankovich. There were a lot of holes in the plan but seeing as we were running out of options, our backs were against the wall and no one wanted to admit defeat. Linc pointed out that all the recent attacks were very personal hits to the nomads. He made me understand how foolish we’d be to think Yankovich didn’t already know Linc’s identity considering how much he knew about everyone else.
“I don’t know why, call it a hunch, but, I started wondering if Cain had ever crossed paths with Yankovich. I searched all our records and the only thing I found was a bill for a storage unit in Cain’s name. Knowing they auction those things off after a couple of unpaid invoices, I took a chance and cal
led the facility. Turns out, Pops has been paying for the unit since Cain died,” I reveal.
At the mention of Cain’s father, Jack’s eyes grow darker in color. The club had maintained a relationship with the man long after his son’s death. Having a shooting range out in Jersey, made him the ideal alliance for us to traffic guns. All we had to do was ensure he got a piece of the pie. All good things come to an end and when the Chinese shot up the range, Pops retired to Georgia.
“So, I paid him a visit. After a little coercing on my behalf, I finally got him to admit the truth about the unit. He told me not long before Cain killed himself, he came to Pops and gave him the keys to the unit. He swears Cain didn’t ask him to keep the unit that he did it of his own free will.”
“Why?”
“He said he knew whatever was in there held the power to end the club or Cain wouldn’t have tried to hide it.”
Reaching into my cut, I pull out the key and hand it to him.
“Everything is just how I found it but, man for the sake of your sanity, do not go in there.”
“You going to tell me what you found?”
“There was a briefcase with one of those old school combination locks. I worked up a sweat trying to crack the thing before I shot the lock off. Inside was a bunch of baby photos of Linc, a .38 caliber revolver, a bunch of bank statements to some offshore accounts and a voice recorder. There were dozens of tapes. I grabbed the first one I saw and played it back. Cain was on the tape talking to someone about moving rose petals. Then I heard the Russian accent, and I knew it was fucking Yankovich. I also knew they weren’t talking about flowers but rather the fucking girls that prick was snatching from the streets.”
“Jesus,” he hisses.
“Some of the tapes were labeled, most weren’t. However, there was one that caught my eye, the one labeled the bulldog.”
I wait for his reaction, but his face remains neutral. A sure sign he’s wearing down his maker. Knowing his sanity is fragile, I debate on continuing.
“Give it to me,” he demands.
Riding The Edge Page 7