Pulling into the garage, I kill the engine of my bike and glance around the lot. Finding Pipe sitting on a stack of crates smoking a joint, I make my way towards him. The closer I get, the clearer his distress becomes. Lifting his beady eyes to mine, he blows out a ring of smoke and shakes his head.
“I don’t got time to play cowboys and Indians with you today, Wolf.”
Shoving my hands in my pocket, I rock back on my heels and shake my head.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not here to throw down with you, Pipe,” I retort. “I got some news I need to share.”
“Yeah, well now isn’t a good time.”
“That’s too bad seeing as this can’t wait,” I say, biting my cheek.
“Look, Wolf,” he starts, jumping off the stack of crates. “Unless you’re here to collect your patch, there’s nothing you can say that I—”
“I won’t be taking my patch back anytime soon,” I interject. “I don’t know if Riggs has told the club, but Maria’s been diagnosed with stage two breast cancer.”
At the revelation, he tosses the joint to the ground and runs a hand over his scruff.
“No,” he says. “He didn’t. Christ, Wolf, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah,” I reply, swallowing. “She’s having a double mastectomy in a few weeks and after that, she’s going to need radiation, but the doctors are very optimistic,” I inform him, pausing before I continue. “So am I.”
“A double mastectomy? How is she taking that?”
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.
The first couple of days after she found out were rough on her. She was quiet and lost in her own head. I’d catch her lifting her hands to her chest and once after she showered, I walked in on her standing in front of the mirror, staring at her naked form. I noticed if she kept herself busy, she didn’t dwell on it too much and so, we became the fucking ’Brady Bunch’, entertaining my kids, her kids, and the grandkids. When we weren’t playing house, I took her out. We hit some of our favorite restaurants, took long walks along the Belt Parkway and even made it to see a movie. I don’t remember the last time I went to the movies.
“And you?” he asks, catching me off guard.
“That don’t matter.”
“Sure, it does,” he argues, straightening his shoulders as he crosses his arms against his chest. “A man don’t walk away from the only life he’s ever known to make it right with a woman and not feel anything when that woman gets diagnosed with cancer.”
“I’m fine,” I say. “I just need to be strong for her and take care of mine before I take care of the Knights.”
“Right,” he replies. “Well if you gotta break, you know my number.”
The truth is, I haven’t given too much thought to how I feel about the situation. Am I scared? No, because I know she’s going to kick this thing. If I had to pinpoint a single emotion, I’d say I was angry more than anything.
Angry that God chose her.
Angry that I can’t snap my fingers and make it go away.
Angry that she cries when no one is looking.
Angry that her kids are worried sick.
Just fucking angry.
“I want to tell you to take whatever time you need,” he continues. “But, Wolf, man—Jack’s getting worse. We agreed that you would take care of the paramedic while I kept the crazy at bay, but you should know that the plan was compromised.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, Parrish has staged a meeting with the Sinaloa cartel.”
“What?”
“He’s going to sell them guns and give them a piece of the streets in exchange for immunity on Bas’ girl and her kid,” he reveals. “Two fucking decades,” he continues. “Been keeping these streets clean for two fucking decades and now, he’s going to open the floodgates.”
Reaching for his smokes, he pulls out a cigarette and shoves it between his lips.
“We’re done,” he says, lighting the end. “Fucking done. Blackie knows it, I know it, fucking Riggs knows it…even the nomads know we’re finished. The only one who doesn’t is the man executing our death.”
“Fuck that,” I growl. “Take a vote and get him out.”
“Think about what you just said,” he says. “You going to let that man go out like that?”
“Listen to me, if he’s incapacitated he would not want any of us to sit back and sign our death certificates,” I argue. “For fuck’s sake, Pipe, do you remember the promise we made to him after he took the gavel? Cain wasn’t even cold before Jack made us swear we’d step in if we found him mentally incapable of ruling.”
“Yeah, I remember,” he mutters, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I also remember him prevailing against the odds every fucking time,” he argues. “Wolf, it’s Parrish.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
That man built more than a club.
He made us a family.
He gave us all the gift of being property of Parrish.
“We owe him more than that,” Pipe rasps. “I just don’t know how to give it to him.”
Taking a step back, I run my fingers through my hair. Pacing, I lift my eyes back to his.
“What does Blackie say?”
“Truthfully?”
I look at him expectantly.
“I think he’s hitting the bottle again.”
“He’s five years sober,” I defend, shaking my head. “He’d never do that.”
“Lacey is pregnant,” he explains. “Jack is off the rails and he’s on the verge of inheriting this hell. I’d drink myself into a coma if that fucking shit was weighing on my shoulders. Don’t forget, Lacey’s on the same drugs as Jack. He’s gotta feel some kind of way watching him fall apart, knowing his woman may suffer the same fucking fate.”
He flicks the cigarette onto the ground and cracks his knuckles.
“Like I said, we’re done,” he reiterates. “It don’t matter what happens to the paramedic.”
“Shit!
“What?”
Ignoring him, I dig the phone out of my pocket and pull up Bianci’s number.
“I told Bianci to let her go.”
“What? Why the fuck would you do that?”
“When is the meeting with the cartel?”
“Does it fucking matter? That bitch is going to run straight to the cops. We don’t need that fucking heat, right now!”
No fucking kidding.
There’s no use in explaining my logic. I had no idea Parrish was orchestrating this deal with the cartel when I made the call. If that girl sings to the cops, every brother in blue will be waiting to arrest the club with those fucking guns. Anthony barely gets a chance to say a word when he answers the call before I’m shouting at him.
“Don’t fucking let the girl go! Do you hear me? Do not—”
“Wolf, she’s already gone,” he interrupts.
Shit.
“The girl hung herself.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Cutting my engine, I glance at the Harley in the driveway before cutting my eyes to the brownstone Jack and his wife call home. After the call to Anthony and learning the dreadful news about the paramedic, Pipe and I exhausted every attempt to get in touch with our president. Falling short, we transferred our efforts into reaching out to Blackie—another dead end. At our wit's end, we turned to one another. My eyes mirrored his and dread settled deep in my gut.
It was the beginning of the end.
A four car pileup you couldn’t stand to watch, but one you couldn’t tear your eyes from either.
A fucking collision where casualties were guaranteed.
It was the end of us and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.
However, that didn’t mean we wouldn’t try. If the Satan’s Knights were going to go down, we were going down swinging. Or at least Pipe and I were.
We decided to split up. He went in search of Blackie and here I am, standing in front of Jack’
s house, preparing to tell the mighty king he’s about to be knocked from his throne. Hoping the fear of God still holds some merit, my plan is to spook the fuck out of him and get him to back out of this cartel deal he’s got going on. With the two dead paramedics and his failing mind, we don’t need to be selling our souls to drugs too.
Ringing the doorbell, I rap my knuckles against the door and rock back on my heels. Hand to God, I don’t need this shit right now. Not with Maria facing the battle of her life. I got five fucking kids to think about—mine and hers. I’m not supposed to be standing here, trying to find the words to get past the crazy living in Jack’s head. For once in my life, I don’t want to be the fucking clean-up guy, just once I want to be the man who worries about his family and that’s it.
God don’t give a shit about our wants though, does he?
He gives us what he knows we can handle.
He piles our plates high and force feeds everything down our throat, reminding us we live to serve him.
My thoughts are interrupted as the door opens and I’m faced with Jack’s wife. Reina Parrish has been a ray of sunshine in her husband’s dark life and has eased his suffering since the day she walked into the clubhouse carrying a freshly baked cherry pie. At first, I thought the pairing was odd. She was young, a little shy and whole lot scorned by her past. Jack was riding high on mayhem, wreaking havoc and battling the voices inside his head. They were opposites and yet Reina was just what Jack needed. She gave him her love and bore the burden of his illness. Some might argue she’s not fit to be the first lady of a motorcycle club but, if you ask me, she’s the reason we’ve stayed afloat. We may all play a small part in having helped Jack bide his time, but it is Reina who has truly kept him in the game. It’s that light of hers. Jack is addicted to it. It pulls him from the depths of darkness and forces him to function.
It’s this sweet woman standing before me with tears running down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, taking a step closer.
Wiping her cheeks, she lifts her chin and shakes her head.
“It’s Jack,” she cries. “Wolf, I don’t know what to do.”
Broken.
Defeated.
Fucking hopeless.
“Where is he?”
“Upstairs,” she replies, opening the door wider. “I don’t know if you should go up there,” she continues as I enter the house. “He doesn’t want anyone to see him like this.”
Tearing my eyes from the stairs, I turn to her.
“Like what…Reina, what’s going on?”
“He’s sick, Wolf,” she reveals closing the door. “The new medication doesn’t agree with him.”
“Sick how? Did you call the doctor?”
“Of course I called the doctor,” she snaps, surprisingly. In all the years she’s been with Jack, I don’t think I have ever been on the receiving end of her temper. “She says it’s normal, that his body is adjusting to the new medication.”
“Sounds like a fucking quack to me,” I growl, glancing back at the stairs.
“That’s not what I need to hear,” she shrieks, forcing my attention back to her. Staring at her balled fists, I watch the tears run down her cheeks and the need to help her pulses inside of me.
I live to serve.
Not only God but my people too.
Jack and Reina are my people.
Her husband may have created this family we are all part of but it’s my duty to keep it together.
“Tell me what you need, darlin’,” I rasp.
“I need to be able to close my eyes and not worry,” she cries. “I need to be able to give our son a bath without wondering if when I’m finished, I’ll find my husband dead in our bed. I need for him to stop talking about Junior. It sounds horrible but every time he mentions him, I cringe because I’m terrified he’s going to kill himself to be with him,” she pauses, taking a deep breath. “He talks to him, Wolf. He tells him they’re going to be reunited soon, and it is fucking killing me. I can’t lose him and yet, I can’t keep him either. I’ll never be able to keep him here. Every minute, every hour, every goddamn day—it’s all borrowed time. I’ll never be enough. There have always been three people in our relationship,” she whispers. “Me, him and her. In our story, the other woman is his maker and, she wins. She gets my husband and the sad part of it all, she won’t make him happy. She’ll destroy him.”
Closing the distance between us, I take her into my arms and hold her as she falls apart. I wish I could tell her she’s wrong, that he’ll recover, and she will win but there’s no sense in lying to the woman.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, pulling back “I shouldn’t have dumped that all on you.”
“We’re family, Reina,” I remind her. “You don’t have to do any of this alone and you shouldn’t either. Say the word, just say the word and we’ll be here.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t tell anyone,” she says shamefully. “He knows everyone doubts him,” she adds, lifting her eyes to mine. “He needs to step down, Wolf. I need him to step down.”
Looking away, I run my fingers through my hair.
“Whatever time he has left should be spent with me, Danny and Lacey. I mean, I think we deserve that much. We’ve played second to the club for a long time, it’s only fair we get his last days.”
“Darlin’ that’s something you need to discuss with your old man.”
“My old man won’t give up the gavel because you’re not there to take it.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, my eyes slice towards her and I stare at her as she confirms everything Pipe suspected.
“The gavel was never mine, Reina. Blackie is more than ready to lead. Now, Jack has voiced his concerns to me and has asked me to look out for Black—”
“Jack doesn’t know his daughter is pregnant,” she interjects. “Or that the man he’s trusted with his club has fallen off the wagon.”
Pipe hadn’t mentioned that Jack didn’t know about the baby and he only had surmised to Blackie being on a bender.
“Jack doesn’t know Lacey’s pregnant?”
“No,” she says, crossing her arms under her chest.
“And, what’s this shit about Blackie drinking again…did he not want the baby?”
“Oh, he wanted the baby,” she clarifies. “He didn’t realize the doctor would take Lacey off her meds. Now, he’s watching Jack spiral out of control, waiting for Lacey to do the same and worrying about how her mental illness is going to affect their unborn child. So, yeah, he’s drinking. I suppose we should be grateful he’s not using too but, give him the pressure of the club and he just might grab a needle too.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I know you gave him your patch,” she adds, causing my jaw to tick with annoyance. I never pegged Jack to be the guy who told his wife everything. I wonder if loose lips are another side effect from his fucking medication.
“I also know you’re in a position, stuck between a rock and a hard place—”
“Reina—”
“Please, Wolf,” she begs. “If not for me, for him…for Danny. Help me make his last memories of his father good.”
Scratching the underside of my jaw, I stare into her pleading eyes and for the first time in my life, I entertain the idea of taking Jack’s place. If this would’ve happened months ago—weeks ago even—I would’ve stepped into the role without hesitation. Not for the power or the rank but for the sake of Jack’s family. For his wife and children, I would’ve made it easy for my brother to relinquish control and spend the remainder of his time making memories with the people he loved most in this world.
But, I’m not the same man I was weeks ago.
“Why don’t you take a break, darlin’?” I suggest, pulling my hand away from my face. “Get yourself a shower and take Danny out of the house for a little while. I’ll stay here with Jack.”
Studying me for a moment, she crosses her arms against her chest and shakes her head.
> “No, thank you,” she says. “When he’s feeling better, I will tell him you stopped by.”
The annoyance and disappointment in her tone forces me to sigh and run my fingers roughly through my hair.
“Reina—”
“If you don’t mind,” she interjects, turning her back to me. “I’d like to get back to my husband,” she adds, pulling open the door. Respecting her too much to lie to her and tell her everything will be okay, I give her a tight nod and make my way towards the open door. Pausing in front of her, I turn and lift a hand to her cheek.
“Give me time to figure something out.”
“That’s what you don’t understand,” she argues softly. “We’re out of time, Wolf.”
Reina’s wrong.
Our time has been up for a while now.
We’re in overtime, where every second counts and every play might be the last.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“I gave Rab my two weeks notice today,” I say as I squirt some lotion into the palm of my hand. Lifting my leg onto the bed, I rub the moisturizer into my skin and look towards the doorway of my bedroom. Leaning against the frame, with a towel tied loosely around his waist, Al meets my gaze.
“How’d that go?” he questions, rounding the bed.
In the last week or so, he’s spent every night in my bed and I’ve learned the man isn’t a fan of pajamas. In fact, he’s not a fan of underwear either. Dropping the towel, he pulls the comforter and slides into bed just as naked as the day he was born.
“Good,” I reply, working the lotion into my other leg. “He was very understanding and told me I could come back whenever I was ready. I didn’t tell him I decided to take the job with Riggs.”
“We need to talk about that,” he mutters, leaning his back against the headboard. “You’re not going to be able to work for a while, Maria.”
“I know that,” I insist. “But when I am ready, I’ll be working at the bar, not Rab’s.”
Riding The Edge Page 20