If you’re me, you hold on tight.
You embrace the next chapter.
You turn the page.
You write the rest of the story.
And you do it with your queen right at your side.
Chapter Thirty-four
Stepping into the dimly lit chapel, my eyes dart around the room, taking in the empty pews and the candles no one has bothered to light. I close the door behind me and begin to make my way towards the altar. For many years, I neglected my practiced faith. A man can’t ride to hell worshipping the reaper and still kneel for the cross.
Standing in front of the altar, I lift my eyes to the crucifix hanging above and respectfully bend my knees as I make the sign of the cross. Straightening, I reach into my leather vest and pull out my gun. Removing the clip, I lay both the bullets and the piece on top of God’s table.
It’s an act of respect.
A show of good faith from a servant to his Lord as he pleads for a pardon.
Next, I shrug the leather from my shoulders and neatly fold it before placing it alongside the gun. Stripped of the shit that makes me a sinner, I reach into my back pocket and pull out the pair of wooden rosary beads. Draping them around my neck, I lift the cross to my lips. Removing my cut won’t wipe the blood from my hands and apologizing to God, won’t change who I am or what I’ve done. However, I come to him today not as an outlaw but rather as a man.
A man who has finally found his heart.
After nearly thirty years of loving and losing, sacrificing and suffering, my purpose in life is no longer my club. I don’t wake to ride no more. I open my eyes every day for her.
To love her.
To cherish her.
To be her strength.
To be the one and only person she lets herself lean on.
Plain and simple, I wake up to be her man.
Everything I am and all that I’ll be is hers. Whether that’s a blessing or a curse, I’m not sure and so, that’s why I stand before God, praying he’ll spare her. If not for me than for her children.
Turning my attention to the candles, I walk towards them and reach for the matches. Striking one, I bring it to the wick and watch the tiny flame dance. The match dies out and I make my way to the first pew. Kneeling, I fold my hands and lift my eyes to the cross. It’s been hours since they brought Maria in and with each one that passes, I lose my shit more and more. Unwilling to have her kids see me fall apart, I escaped to here, to the very chapel I stood in when Maria first told me she had breast cancer.
It’s time me and the big guy had a sit-down.
In fact, it’s long overdue.
“Not going to disrespect you by lying and saying I’m a good man and I won’t apologize for everything I’ve done because I’m not all that sorry. But I’m loyal and the ones who need me always got me. That’s gotta count for something,” I say, pausing to thoughtfully to stroke a hand over my beard. “It’s been a long while,” I continue. “But I never lost faith in you. Hell, I think I’m still here because of you and not because I belong in Hell but because you knew deep down, she needed me here… I waited my whole life for the blessing you gave me when you gave me her. You can’t take her away from me now.”
When you’ve lived half your life wishing for something, you swear if you’re blessed enough to receive it you’ll cherish it.
All I want is a chance to live up to my word.
For fuck’s sake, I asked her to marry me and I swore I’d never do that shit again. Call me crazy, tell me I’m overreacting but until now, I haven’t allowed myself to feel much of anything. It’s like I found out she had cancer and put my emotions on a shelf. I’ve been so wrapped up in being strong for her and dealing with the club, I didn’t deal with how all of this affected me. I thought if I gave into my feelings it would make me selfish. After all, this wasn’t my battle. It was hers. The truth is, I was too much of a coward to acknowledge I was helpless and cancer was my enemy too.
Drawing in a deep breath, I close my eyes and fold my hands. Instantly I’m assaulted by the memory of Lauren and Anthony holding her hands as they escorted the stretcher to the operating room. I don’t know what breaks my heart more. The thought of losing her myself or knowing I’ll have to watch her children grieve for her too. I’m not sure if they tolerate me for the sake of their mother or if they genuinely like me but, I promised Lady I’d take care of them and while I’m a man of my word, that’s one fucking vow I don’t know I’m strong enough to keep.
As a Knight, Maria’s children were an obligation and part of my circle long before I fell in love with her. Now, they’re part of my family. In this life, biology means nothing. Our blood don’t need to match for me to bleed for them. Anthony and Lauren have a place in my life, right next to my own three sons.
Opening my eyes, I look up at the crucifix and with anger pulsing through my veins, I sneer at the cross.
“Forget me, you can’t take her away from her children. It don’t matter that they’re grown, they need her more than you,” I continue. “I would bargain with you, tell you to take me instead but, we both know that’s not a fair trade,” I confess, bowing my head. “I’ve never been afraid of anything,” I whisper, bringing my hands to my face. “Until now,” I add, swiping my hand over my beard as I force myself to see past the tears filling my eyes. “I’m fucking terrified of losing her,” I say to the cross.
“Wolf?”
Startled, I wipe my eyes before glancing over my shoulder and meeting Lauren’s worried gaze. Without a word, she starts for me.
“Hey pretty,” I say turning back around to collect my bearings. The last thing I want is for her to see me like this. To her, I am some mythical beast who never breaks. A man who silently endures pain and a warrior who never cowers under pressure.
Lifting off my knees, I take a seat on the wooden bench and lift my head.
“You okay?” I ask her.
“Are you?” she counters, cocking her head to the side.
“Yeah, pretty, I’m good,” I say forcing a smile.
“Your eyes are red,” she points out as she continues to study me.
“It’s the incense,” I lie, waving a hand in front of my eyes. “They should ban that shit.”
Not buying into my bullshit, she looks away and stares at the lone candle flickering in a sea of unlit ones. Rounding the pew, she makes her way towards it and I watch intently as she lights the one next to mine. Quietly she prays in peace. The sound of her sniffling drives me mad and I move to stand but she turns before I can and shakes her head. Leaning back, I watch her slip into the pew next to me.
“She’s going to be fine,” I assure her, lifting my hand to reach inside my leather vest for my handkerchief. Remembering I left it on the altar with my gun, I clench my jaw and smooth my hand over my chest instead. Focusing on Lauren, I take her hand and give it a squeeze. “That woman is going to raise all sorts of hell when she finds out we were sitting here worrying about her, pretty.”
She cracks a sad smile.
“You have a nickname for everyone, don’t you?”
I guess I do.
“Your mother got used to it, you will too.”
Nodding, she takes a deep breath as we fall into a comfortable silence.
“Let me tell you something about my mother, Wolf,” she whispers. Diverting my eyes back to her, I give her my undivided attention. “She’s spent her entire life hiding behind a wall only a real man could climb,” she continues. This time it’s her who squeezes my hand reassuringly as she meets my gaze. “Thank you for being that man,” she rasps.
Realizing Lauren Bianci is doing exactly what her mother asked of her, and is looking out for her old man, I look back to the cross. Not trusting myself with my emotions, I remain silent and drape an arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to me.
“I know she’s going to be okay,” she says softly. “She’s waited so long to find happiness and she’s only just started to enjoy it.” Pausing,
she leans her head on my shoulder and whispers. “She loves you, Wolf.”
And, God, do I love her.
“There you two are,” Anthony calls from the back of the door.
Lifting her head from my shoulder, Lauren looks behind us as her brother makes his way inside the chapel.
“Did the doctor come out?”
“No,” he replies, reaching us. Glancing at my shit on the altar, he raises an eyebrow before focusing on me. “That’s something you don’t see every day.”
“I don’t reckon it is,” I reply meeting his crystal blue eyes. “You good?”
“Yeah, Wolf, I’m good,” he says. “What about you?”
As long as I’ve known Anthony, he’s always been an ally and out of respect, he’s earned the title of brother. However, that don’t seem fitting anymore.
“I’m good…son.”
If he’s bothered by my boldness, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he gives me a nod and draws in a deep breath as his eyes dart around the room. Then without a word, he moves to the candles and lights another before sliding into the pew beside his sister. The three of us sit in silence watching the three flames burn bright with hope. Each of us finding our faith and praying for the woman we all love.
The door opens again and this time, it’s me who turns to greet the latest person to enter the room. Hoping it’s Riggs, my throat tightens as I stare in shock at my three sons. Of course, they knew Maria would be undergoing surgery but the last I left off with my son, Nico, I told him I’d call when I knew something. I never expected them to come to the hospital and I sure as hell never thought they’d find a chapel. Shit, I don’t remember the last time any of them stepped foot inside a church.
“Got room for three more?” Nico questions.
“Always,” I reply hoarsely.
Anthony and Lauren slide further down the bench and I follow suit, making room for Nico, Enzo, and Frankie. Instead of joining us, the three of them head for the candles. Enzo is the first to strike a match, then Nico and finally Frankie. Lingering around, they say a silent prayer and make the sign of the cross. Nico crosses to Anthony, shaking his hand and I can’t help but smile. It seems like just yesterday, we were all gathered around the dining room table for the first time. It was chaotic and awkward as all hell.
Not realizing I said that out loud, I narrow my eyes at Nico as he recalls the day.
“Anthony stabbed his meatballs like he was imagining they were attached to your dick,” he comments.
“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to say dick while standing inside a chapel,” Enzo chimes in.
“Have you taken a good look at what’s sitting on that altar?” Anthony replies, offering Enzo a pound.
“There’s a lot of things wrong with this picture,” Lauren agrees with a laugh.
“There’s also a lot right with it,” I say, taking the five of them in.
This, all of them, it’s what was missing from my life. I reckon it was missing from Maria’s too. It’s a shame it took so long for either of us to find it but, she would love this.
“Jesus, fuck you look like the ‘Brady Bunch’,” Riggs calls, interrupting the moment. All eyes turn to him and instantly I regret dropping my gun. Making his way towards us, he crosses his arms against his chest and does a sweep of the room. “When I tell Mama Leone you were all here crying like a bunch of saps, she’s going to take a frying pan to your heads.”
“She won’t have to because I’m going to,” Lauren hisses. “Where the fuck were you?”
“Lauren,” Anthony hisses, looking at the cross.
“Fuck it, man,” Nico says. “We’re all going to hell in a handbasket, anyway. Let her drop all the f-bombs she wants.”
Rising to my feet, I start down the aisle but Lauren brushes past me throws her fist into his shoulder.
“My mother has been in surgery for hours—”
“Lauren, I told you the tire blew off his bike,” I grunt, meeting Riggs' eyes. The last thing the girl needs to know is that he was dodging bullets from the Mexican cartel while her mother went under the knife. Maria would never get the wedding she’s been dreaming of and Riggs will likely get his dick sliced.
Catching my drift, Riggs looks at Lauren.
“Kitten, I’m lucky to be alive,” he tells her. “Cut me some slack, I came straight here as soon as the tow guy fixed my wheels.”
“Wheel,” I mutter.
“Wheel,” he amends. “As in one single wheel blew off the bike.”
Jesus fuck.
“Are you okay?” she relents, touching a hand to his leather-clad shoulder.
“I can totally use a little TLC. You wanna find a supply closet and get freaky?”
“Riggs,” Lauren mutters.
“Call me the Tiger when we’re—what the fuck is that?”
Following his bulging eyes, I look at the vest and gun.
“What does it look like?” I grunt.
“It looks like you’re trying to get us all pinched,” he boasts, striding towards the altar. Pretending to make the sign of the cross, he snatches the clip and gun from the table. Loading it, he puts the safety on and shoves it into the waistband of his jeans.
“There aren’t any cops here,” Nico points out.
“I’m not worried about the cops,” Riggs hisses, reaching for my vest. Draping it over his arm, he points a finger towards the crucifix hanging over head. “I’m talking about the guy on the cross. You looking to buy us a ticket to Hell, brother?”
“This guy,” Anthony mumbles.
“Riggs,” Lauren starts.
“It ain’t too late to back out of marrying him,” I tell her.
Fuck the wedding.
I’ll give Maria her a wedding. Hell, I’ll even wear a monkey suit.
“Pops is right,” Nico says. “You’re a dime piece.”
“Incest is illegal,” Riggs growls.
“She’s not my sister.”
“Your dad bangs her mom, close enough,” he sneers, showing his teeth. Fucking guy really thinks he’s a tiger.
Slapping him upside the head, I hold out my other hand.
“Give me my gun you idiot,” I order.
“Only if you promise never to hand it over to the other side again,” he retorts, out of my reach.
“Give me the fucking gun or I’ll take yours and shoot you with it.”
“You gotta catch me first,” he taunts. Making a mad dash down the aisle, he runs out of the chapel, dropping my vest on the floor.
“I’m going to kill him,” I growl, stalking after him with the five kids in tow.
“Don’t kill him,” Lauren calls as I shrug my vest on. “What will I tell the kids?”
“Their father is a nutcase,” Anthony answers. “Forget it, they probably already know that much.”
Stepping out of the chapel, I search left to right for a trace of leather.
“Over here big guy,” Riggs calls, flipping me the bird as he rounds a corner. Cursing, I quicken my pace as my boots pound against the linoleum. He makes a sharp left and comes to a skidding halt inside the waiting room. Just as I reach for his neck, he steps to the side and I get a glimpse of pink.
Pink and leather.
Jack, Pipe, Linc, Stryker, Deuce, and Cobra crowd the room. Knowing the meeting with the cartel didn’t go as planned and that Blackie was shot in the process, I never expected to see any of them here. Not only were their ragged asses in front of me but they all had pink bandanas tied around their heads. Some read strength, others hope and they all matched the pink ribbon pinned to their cuts.
Through the mayhem and the havoc, united, they take a stand.
For Maria.
For me.
For our brotherhood.
A stand against breast cancer.
“What’s all this?” I question, swallowing the lump in my throat as I meet Jack’s dark eyes.
“This is property of Parrish,” he replies.
Yeah, it sure fucking is.
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Chapter Thirty-five
“Sorry we’re late,” Pipe says. “We made a pit stop at Taco Bell.”
I don’t tell the poor bastard he’s got a speck of blood on his nose. Instead, I pound his shoulder with my fist and bring him against my chest.
“Thank you, brother,” I rasp, releasing him.
“You didn’t think we’d sit this one out, did you?” Jack questions, diverting my attention to him. He looks worse than he did when he showed up at Maria’s and yet here he is. I’m ashamed I ever doubted him.
Stepping forward, he places a firm hand on my shoulder and crosses the other, reaching into his vest. I cast my eyes downward when he pulls out a patch and slaps it against my chest.
“Sew that motherfucker into your leather,” he says as I take the patch from him and stare at the pink ribbon that reads, save second base.
“Jack,” I start.
“We’re brothers,” he says over me. “Through thick and thin, we’re fucking brothers.”
Two men damned by the patch.
Brothers not by kin but by the wind.
“Wolf,” Lauren calls from behind me. Pulling away from Jack, I turn and follow the path of her eyes, spotting the team of doctors making their way toward us. Stepping forward, my fist closes around the patch as I stand between Anthony and Lauren. My boys, Adrianna and Riggs come up behind us and the club stands close.
“Mr. Bianci, Mr. Scotto, Miss Bianci,” Dr. Kennedy greets.
I can barely hear them over the pulse beating in my ear.
“Doc, cut to the chase,” I plead.
“It went well,” she says, turning to the oncologist.
“We got it all,” he confirms. “Removed both tumors and any suspicious tissue. Of course, we’re still going to go ahead with the original plan of treatment, but instead of four rounds of radiation, we might be able to get away with three. It all depends on the pathology report.”
Relief.
It pours from every orifice.
“Oh my God,” Lauren cries, grabbing my arm.
“Thank you,” Anthony says, extending his hand.
Riding The Edge Page 24