Riding The Edge

by Janine Infante Bosco

  Maybe I am having a mid-life crisis.

  “Look, Jack gave me the low-down. I understand why you kept Linc’s identity a secret. Hell, I would’ve probably done the same. What I don’t get is why you handed in your patch. Man, you know Jack is a loose cannon—”

  Rubbing my hands over my face, I cut him off.

  “I didn’t come here for this shit.”

  “I don’t give a fuck why you came here,” Pipe barks. “You need to listen to me.”

  “No, you need to listen to me, Pipe. I got bigger problems than the club and Jack’s sanity.”

  “I know about Nico, Wolf. Jack told me this morning,” he says, rolling a toothpick between his lips. “You know we’re going to handle it right?”

  “I’m going to handle it,” I snap. “Me,” I say, pounding my fist against the center of my chest. “I’m his father. I know that doesn’t mean anything to you—”

  “Layla’s pregnant,” he replies, spitting out the toothpick.

  Pipe was never in the position to have a family of his own and until he met Layla, I don’t think it bothered him. However, soon after he fell in love with Layla’s children, he began to regret not having a kid of his own.

  Looking at him, I recognize the fear in his eyes. It’s funny how a man isn’t afraid of the consequences of his choices until he realizes they may affect his children.

  “Congratulations,” I say hoarsely. “I mean it, Pipe. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thank you,” he says, pulling out a pack of smokes. Shoving the cigarette between his lips, he lights the end and takes a long drag. “Lived half my life thinking I had it all and now, I got this kid coming and I realize I had nothing.”

  Now, that’s something I can relate to.

  The peace and positivity shit—not so much.

  “But with that realization comes another one,” he mutters, taking another drag of his cigarette. “I got everything now, everything I never knew I wanted or needed, I got.”

  “Which means you got everything to lose,” I say, crossing my arms against my chest.

  “Yeah,” he agrees, flicking the ashes. “Scary as fuck, Wolf.”

  “You’re gonna be a good father,” I assure him.

  “Gotta remain alive to do that,” he says, tossing the cigarette to the ground. Crushing it with the toe of his boot, he lifts his gaze to me. “He’s got the paramedic, Wolf. He’s got her upstate in some fucking bungalow with a few of Rocco’s guys keeping an eye out.”

  A memory of the woman who worked on Nico until the second ambulance arrived, flashes before me. I remember staring at her trembling hands as she tried to stop the bleeding. I can also recall her voice as she begged us not to kill her. I was too concerned with Nico to wonder what happened to her after we left for the hospital. Even after the cops left, and I warned Jack, I never thought about where she was or what had happened to her. Jack said he would take care of it and that was enough for me. It wasn’t my business to ask questions but apparently, Pipe had a different opinion.

  “How?”

  “Bianci and the Chicago guy took her to Vic’s safe house. They weren’t sure how Jack wanted to handle things. After we returned from Purchase, the cops were all over this place because of the dead paramedic. Jack told them the story about Yankovich shooting him and taking the ambulance. On our way to you, Bianci called and told us they had the girl.”

  “That’s why Jack said he’d handle her,” I mutter.

  “Yeah,” he replies. “The only way to do that is by killing her.”

  Flinching, I look away.

  “She’s a kid,” I growl.

  “I don’t like it either, Wolf.,” he mutters, leaning against the Charger. “But you know what happens if she lives.”

  Yeah, I do.

  Cain and Yankovich win and Jack finally loses.

  “The cops will get to her, she’ll squeal like a pig and Jack will be done. He’ll plead insanity, get a shorter sentence and a ticket to a padded room.”

  Turning my head, I meet his solemn gaze.

  “Why hasn’t he done it yet?”

  “My guess is because he’s waiting on you.”

  “Me?”

  “C’mon Wolf, you gotta know Jack is banking on you to keep this shit alive. He’s biding his time, hoping you work out whatever you got going on in here,” he says, bringing his hand to his chest. “But the second you ask for your patch, that girl is gone.”

  “We can’t let him kill her, Pipe,” I argue. “He isn’t thinking clearly. The new meds are fucking with him.”

  “You got another solution you want to bring to the table?”

  “No,” I growl. “I will figure something out. I just need a little time to do that which means, this shit stays between us. As far as Jack knows, I’m not interested in the club.”

  “So, I never saw you here tonight.”

  “Right,” I tell him, pushing my fingers through my hair. “Fucking Christ,” I mutter. “You made me forget why I’m here.”

  “A tune-up?” Pipe questions, eyeing the car.

  “Oh, I forgot you’re a fucking comedian,” I snarl, patting him on the back as I step around him. “If this club tanks, maybe you can get a gig doing stand-up,” I say.

  Remembering my reason for coming here, I make my way towards the garage.

  “Where are you going?” he calls.

  Ignoring him, I walk into the adjoining office and round the desk. Of course, the fucking thing is a mess, and it takes me longer than necessary to find what I’m searching for. Entering the room, Pipe leans against the wall and crosses his arm.

  “Did I say you can ransack my office?”

  “Did I fucking ask for permission?” I fire back without looking at him. Grabbing a pad, I tear a piece of paper and scribble down the address.

  “What are you doing, Wolf?”

  Lifting my eyes, I shove the address into my pocket and pull open the top drawer of the desk. Taking a handful of bullets, I pocket those too.

  “I got a hankering for tacos.”

  “Shit,” Pipe mutters. “You’re going to Alvarez, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to Pico de Gallo that motherfucker’s ass,” I confirm, watching as he pushes off the wall.

  “I really fucking hate you,” he grunts, tipping his chin towards the window. “I’m guessing we’re taking the Charger?”

  “What’s this we, shit?”

  “You’re not going by yourself,” he says, stepping out of the office. “Give me the keys.”

  “It’s a rental.”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” he snaps. “I’m not riding bitch and when we’re done playing cowboys and Indians, you’re going to tell me why you rented a car.”

  The fuck I am.

  The last thing I need is this clown knowing my business with Maria.

  Crossing the lot, we make our way towards the car. I toss Pipe the keys and slide into the passenger seat. As he folds his large frame into the sports car, I reach into the glove box and retrieve my gun. Loading the clip, I turn to Pipe and bite back a laugh. The fucker looks ridiculous behind a steering wheel.

  “Are we going into the restaurant like we’re placing an order for a taco supreme or are we going old school like we did with Sun Wu?”

  “We drove through the front window of Sun Wu’s restaurant and put a shit ton of bullets through his glass fish tank,” I say, recalling the mess we got ourselves into with the Chinese.

  “Good times.”

  Yeah, they were.

  “I’m paying a daily rate on this fucking thing,” I remind him, smacking a hand against the dash.

  “You spring for the insurance?”

  “Of course,” I grunt. “Another twenty-seven dollars a day.”

  Sighing, I turn my head and watch Pipe’s lips quirk.

  “Fuck it,” I mutter. “Let’s teach these assholes how it’s done.”

  “Thatta boy,” he replies, slamming his foot against the gas. As he hits a po
thole going ninety in a thirty zone, I decide two things. First, Pipe can’t drive for shit and second, I should probably consider buying this car outright. It’ll be cheaper than paying late fees on a rental and after this ride, it’s obvious I’m going to go for my lungs repairing all the damage this dope does.

  Making a sharp left, he races through an alley and nearly sideswipes a row of dumpsters.

  “Who the fuck gave you a license?”

  “Your mother,” he shouts as we dip into another pothole. “You going to tell me why you're riding around in this fucking death trap?”

  Gripping the oh shit handle above me, my ass bounces out of the seat and my head hits the roof of the car. Too preoccupied trying to decide how I’m going to murder this idiot, the truth slips past my lips.

  “I’m seeing Maria Bianci.”

  “Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he says, turning his head to me.

  “For fuck’s sake look ahead of you!”

  “You tap that yet?”

  “What are we twelve? You want to whip out your dick and measure it against the wall while you’re at it?”

  “You fed her the old braciola didn’t you?” he questions with a grin. “You dirty dog, you.”

  “You tell anyone, and I swear to God, I’ll shoot your dick off,” I warn.

  “Why so secretive? She’s fucking hot and classy as fuck.”

  If it was up to me, there would be no secrets. The whole fucking world would know I not only spent the night between Maria’s legs but that I also planned on spending many more in her bed. But it’s obvious she’s not ready to tell anyone about us. I think it’s the health scare that’s got her all twisted. Once the results come back and everything is fine, I’ll press her about where we go from here. I’ll show her a real man don’t fucking run.

  “Oh, God, please promise me you’ll let me be there when you tell Riggs you’re fucking his mother-in-law.”

  “Jesus, Pipe—”

  “Shit! Hold on to your shorts,” he shouts.

  Turning my attention towards the front of the car, my eyes bulge as we head straight for Alvarez’s taco joint. Closing in, Pipe slams on the brakes and the tires skid over the curb. The grill slams into the front window and before I can curse Pipe to hell and back, the charger is parked in the center of the restaurant.

  “How do you say, honey I’m home in Spanish?” Pipe questions, reaching into his vest for his piece.

  “I’m going to fucking kill you,” I sneer, reaching for the door.

  Stepping out of the car, we’re greeted by a bunch of Spanish expletives. The cook comes into my view and I order him to grab Alvarez. Waiting for him and his crew, I make my way to the front of the car and assess the damage. The whole front end of the Charger is fucked.

  “What the fuck is this?” Alvarez shouts, drawing my attention away from the smoking car.

  “That’s a car,” Pipe supplies, pulling out his gun. “And that is a busted window.”

  Two guys dressed in Devil’s Cross cuts flock to Alvarez’s side and as the three of them shout in Spanish, I close the distance between us.

  “Do you know who I am?” I ask standing before him. I wait for him to look at Pipe’s vest for clarification but instead, the little fuck looks me in the eye and grins.

  “You’re Triggers old man.”

  “Who the fuck is Trigger?” Pipe mutters.

  “Nico,” I grunt.

  “Couldn’t you people give him a better name?”

  “Wolf and Pipe were already taken and are a bit outdated, don’t you agree Papi?” Alvarez asks, crossing his arms.

  “I’m not your Papi,” I growl. “Now, I came here to deliver a message to you and your club—”

  “We had nothing to do with Trigger getting shot,” he interrupts.

  Before I can answer him, Pipe fires a shot into the ceiling.

  “Did he say you could speak?” he questions, bringing down his gun. The two club members pull out their guns and aim them at Pipe. Alvarez keeps his eyes pinned to me and crosses his arms.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” I begin, stepping closer. “You’re going to go visit Nico in the hospital and you’re going to tell him you took a vote and have decided because of his ties to the Satan’s Knights MC you don’t think he’s a fit for your club.”

  “And if I don’t?” he challenges.

  Pipe’s gun goes off again and this time the bullet pierces one of the guys in the thigh.

  “If you don’t, the next time we come here, there will be a lot more bullets flying, and I promise they won’t be flesh wounds,” Pipe replies.

  “Are we clear?”

  “We don’t want any problems with the Satan’s Knights.”

  “Good answer,” I say, turning to Pipe. “Let’s leave these fine men to clean up this mess.”

  “But we didn’t even get our tacos yet,” he says, lowering his gun.

  “There’s a Taco Bell a block away,” I reply, holding out my hand. “And give me the fucking keys, will you?”

  Reluctantly he passes them to me and with the promise to release Nico, I shake Alvarez’s hand and tell him I’ll be in touch. I might even send someone to repair the window.

  Pipe and I get back in the car and I back out of the restaurant.

  “Well, that was fun,” Pipe says as we turn onto the street

  “We’re getting too old for this shit,” I mutter.

  “You think he’s a man of his word?”

  “I think they know they don’t have a shot of succeeding if they don’t release my son.”

  “What are we going to do about the paramedic and Jack?”

  “I told you I need to time to think. In the meantime, you keep a close eye on Parrish and whatever you do, do not let him know about tonight.”

  “I never saw you.”

  And just like that, there were more secrets and lies.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It’s three-o’clock in the afternoon on a Saturday and I’m drunk. If that wasn’t bad enough, I’ve also called out of work for the first time in ten years and I’m still in my pajamas. Telling myself it’s happy hour somewhere, I reach for the bottle of wine and refill my glass. The track on my old stereo changes and Then He Kissed Me by the Crystals blares throughout the house. Swinging my hips to the music, I pad out of the kitchen and into the living room.

  An hour ago, I decided I would busy myself by cleaning out all my closets. I was barely five minutes into the task when I found some old photo albums. I thought a trip down memory lane would help me forget my troubles. That old photographs would take my mind off the biopsy results and the man I rejected.

  Not knowing if I had cancer was driving me mad. When I wasn’t staring at the phone, I was replaying last night over in my head, wondering why God was so cruel. All my life I’ve waited for the right man to step into my life, someone who treated me like a lady and took care of my needs. A man who could handle my independence and still find ways to treat me like a queen. Al was all those things and more. He was someone who didn’t play games and knew exactly what he wanted.

  And he wanted me.

  Truth be told, I wanted him too.

  His comfort and his companionship.

  His respect and his loyalty.

  I wanted all of it.

  The good, the bad and everything in between.

  But I couldn’t consciously waste his time and neglect his wants when I wasn’t sure what the future held for me. I’m not a fool, I can read people very well and I saw the remorse in Dr. Kennedy’s eyes. She wasn’t apologetic for not having answered my questions. She felt sorry for me. A doctor with her experience knows the diagnosis before the lab confirms her suspicions. Maybe she doesn’t know what stage it is or whether or not it’s terminal, but she knows.

  Sighing, I take a seat on the couch and bring the glass to my lips. Taking another sip, I stare at the open photo album. My eyes drift to a picture of Anthony and Lauren. It was Christmas time, and I had take
n them to the mall to see Santa Claus. Anthony had one thing on his list that year, a puppy, and Lauren wanted a Cabbage Patch doll. As hard as things were, they were so much simpler than they are now.

  Back then I was always worried about disappointing them.

  Now, I’m terrified of not being here for them.

  My eyes fill, causing me close the album quickly and reach for the wine glass. Downing the rest of it one gulp, I lean my back against the cushions and give into my tears. As they spill down my cheeks, I glance around the empty room and wonder when the music stopped.

  Alone and surrounded by silence, the glass slips from my hand and tumbles onto the floor, shattering into a million little pieces. I don’t move to pick it up. Instead, I stare at the mess and fight the urge to break something else. My eyes dart around the room searching for breakables when my phone starts to ring.

  Taking a deep breath, I reach across the couch and snatch it off the top of the end table. Glancing at the screen, I see it’s Al and I make quick work of silencing my phone. It’s the fifth time he’s tried calling me since he left my house last night.

  I don’t want to talk to him.

  I don’t want to talk to anyone.

  Dropping the phone onto the couch, I stand up. The blood rushes to my head making it clear, I’ve had too much to drink. I step over the shattered glass as my phone alerts me of a voicemail. Ignoring that too, I wrap my robe tighter around my body and make my way into my bedroom.

  Pausing in the doorway, I stare at the unmade bed.

  The phone rings again and this time I don’t run to answer it.

  Instead, I crawl into my bed and bury myself under the covers. The scent of Al’s cologne lingers in the air, temporarily filling the void of his presence.

  Tomorrow I’ll wake up and it will have faded.

  The phone rings again and I slide deeper under the covers.

  Cancer can wait.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Are you going to tell us what this is all about?” Enzo asks.