But with just a few words from Gia that had already begun to change. God, that woman could talk—Riker smiled —if she only knew how unnecessary all of that explaining and bargaining shit had been.
Riker was so into this that he knew he was being stupid. He knew by refusing a paternity test he was taking a chance of raising a kid that might not be his. Gia had told a pretty desperate tale back there in the hospital and it wouldn’t be the first time a woman used a pregnancy to lure a guy in.
But. then again, it all came back to her choices. It wasn’t like Gia was getting the deal of the century naming him as the baby’s father. That, in and of itself, led Riker to believe that he was the father—and Doc Gideon confirmed the time-line. But still, aside from a raging hard-on attraction he had going for her, Riker knew absolutely jack-shit about Gia. So why was he so eager to jump on board with this whole thing?
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Now that right there was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? And it sure as hell was one that he didn’t have an answer for. So, Riker did what he always did when he was confused, befuddled or otherwise screwed up in the head.
He went to visit his father.
Riker knelt on his haunches and rubbed his hand along the top of the smooth granite tombstone.
His life a beautiful memory, his absence a silent grief.
Rourke McKenna Devlin
1952-2015
Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam
May his soul be at God’s right hand
Riker always started the conversation the same way—with things that he thought would interest his dad. The latest baseball or football scores, who won the latest boxing match, and the rise and fall of gas prices. Then next came any and all gossip that managed to filter its way through from the old neighborhood.
“The Miami Dolphins, by some miracle, made it to a wild card, but everyone knows how that’ll end. And you know the Big B and his boys always seem to pull it out of their ass for the win in the last twenty- three seconds. So, it’s no fucking surprise that the Patriots are on track to play in the Super Bowl again. Boston fans are loving it, but everyone else is getting a little sick of that New England franchise.”
Riker took a long pull on his smoke, then continued. “Everything on Lincoln Road has been pretty quiet lately. Oh, except that I ran into Tommy Brewster last week and he told me that Mrs. Flanagan fell down her stairs about a month ago and broke her hip. Her son, Kevin, remember him? That low life piece of shit? He put her in a nursing home straight from the hospital. And now the jerk-off is trying to sell the house right from under her. Tommy told me that he saw Kevin in Mrs. Flanagan’s front yard the day the sale sign went up and, Dad, you know how Tommy feels about Mrs. Flannagan. She was like a mother to Tommy and his brothers after Mrs. Brewster passed on. He’s been going to the nursing home every day to visit her. When he found out about that sign, he beat the shit out of Kevin. Pansy-ass Kevin called the cops and lucky for Tommy, Jimmy O’Hearn answered the call and that took care of that. Now that clown-ass Kevin is back in California and every time the realtor puts a sign up, Tommy takes it back down. He figures Jimmy is gonna have to cite him for it sooner or later but that hasn’t happened yet. You know how we all thought Jimmy was gonna turn into a full-on prick once he wore the badge? Well that ain’t happened yet either and it don’t look like it’s gonna.”
Riker took another long pull on the smoke and rubbed his jaw. “Me? I’m doing okay, all in all. Steady work, feeling good, even managed to put a few bucks in the bank. Got myself in a situation though. Not with the law or anything, Pop. I know you were worried about that when I joined the club and I ain’t saying there’s never any illegal shit happening… well, anyway, that has nothing to do with this.”
Riker let out a long sigh and pulled another smoke out of his cut. Then he put one on top of the granite stone and lit the other one up. “There’s just no easy way to say this. There was this girl… this woman…and there was this party. One thing led to a fucking other and… uh…and uh…well, I guess you could say she’s…uh… we’re …uh.” Riker scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Pop, there’s gonna be a kid. Thing is, it was only that one night…and we don’t really know each other real well, but I’m gonna have to do the right thing. Nah, scratch that, I want to do the right thing. The girl— her name is Gia—she’s pretty cool. I don’t love her — shit, I don’t even know her. But I like her. She’s pretty and smart and funnier than hell. I’m a grown ass man and it’s probably time I did my part to add to the Devlin clan, anyway. I can’t even begin to tell you how worried I am about messing this up.” Riker straightened up and ran a hand through his hair. “I have no fucking idea how to raise a kid and I’m pretty damn sure that Gia doesn’t have a clue either.”
It was only a few days later that Riker found himself sitting in the Saints meeting room. He and the rest of the brothers listened in rapt attention while Prosper scowled and drove his point home.
“Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying to turn the other cheek or any of that other kind of happy horseshit, but sometimes it’s prudent to walk away. Just walk the fuck away. Better yet, for the time being, I don’t even want you boys to put yourself in that kind of position. If you’re at a bar at closing time, you gotta know that anybody still left there is looking for a good fuck or a good fight.”
Nods and mutters of agreement filled the room. Prosper waited a minute then continued.
“You all know the situation with Judge Carmichael over in Clear Ridge. She’s had a hard on for the club ever since we got Jules cleared of all those felony charges.”
Jules looked around the room and said in way of apology. “Sorry about that boys. I feel like shit to be the one to put the club on Carmichael’s radar.”
Prosper dismissed Jules’s words with a wave of his hand. “Kinda thing happens to all of us. No worries. Under normal circumstances, you know I wouldn’t give two craps, and I make a point of not overstepping. But the bitch has just been appointed to the County Court Circuit and that ain’t good. Means she will have wider jurisdiction. I tried to stop that from happening, but I couldn’t do that. And me not being able to get something done in my own backyard? That don’t bode fucking well. It means that Judge Carmichael has some pretty big connections of her own. Connections that even the club couldn’t influence. Not yet, anyway. I’ve been working on it, but until I make that happen, I want this club and everyone in it to become fucking choirboys. Am I making myself clear?”
Nods of understanding circled the room.
“Now on to happier matters. Riker, you wanna step on up here? We hear that you and Gia tied the knot at City Hall today. This is just a little something from the club to say congratulations.”
The room broke out in cheers and applause.
Riker was honestly touched, and his thanks was sincere. “Thanks guys. Not sure how the hell I got here, but nice to know you boys will be taking this ride along with me.”
“We got your six, brother. As long as it don’t involve changing any crapped up diapers!” Gunner called out from the back of the room.
The room was filled with good natured laughter and the feeling of brotherhood.
“Meeting adjourned!” Prosper brought the gavel down hard. As everyone started shuffling out, Riker felt a hard hand land on his shoulder.
“You wanna hang back a minute?” Prosper asked but it wasn’t a question.
“Sure, boss.” Riker stopped and turned around. Considering the topic of today’s meeting, Riker was wondering if Prosper was gonna chew his ass out.
Riker squared his shoulders. “I just want you to know that I heard what you said about laying off the bar fights, and I’m all over it. Boss, I’m gonna come clean here and tell you that was a small situation a couple of weeks ago. Found myself swapping fists with a couple of assholes, but I made sure that nothing about that was gonna land anywhere near the club.”
Prosper snorted. “Not much happens
around here, I don’t know about, brother. It’s all good. Just remember what I said about that twat Carmichael, she ain’t one to fuck with. But that’s not why I held you back.”
Riker nodded. “So, what’s going on, then. Something I can do for the club?”
Prosper shook his head. “Just wanting to know how’s it going?”
“You mean with me and Gia?” Riker let out a long sigh. “Honestly, boss, I don’t fucking know. We went to city hall as soon as she got herself cleared of the hospital and got hitched. I dropped her off and came here.”
“And what about Gianni?”
“What about him?”
“He still doesn’t know? You know those fucking Italians—you didn’t think to fill him in? I mean, you didn’t have to go in to details but…” Prosper shrugged.
“Well, I don’t know about the Italians, but the Irish? We don’t need permission from nobody for nothing.” Riker shot back. “So, if you’re asking me if I contacted the mob boss for permission to marry his niece—after I already knocked her up? Nah. I think I’m good.”
“Fair enough.” Prosper nodded.
“That it?” Riker wanted to get back to Gia. They decided to get married as quick as possible, probably before either one of them had the chance to change their minds. So as soon as Gia was freed from the hospital, they headed to city hall. Gia hadn’t said much after the perfunctory “I do.” And Riker had to leave her soon after dropping her off at the apartment to make it to this meeting.
The collection the brothers took up was pretty damn thoughtful, and by the thickness of the envelope pretty damn generous too. Since Riker wasn’t exactly flush with cash, the money would help to get all the baby shit they would need. So, it wasn’t like he was ungrateful or anything, it was just that he was itching to get back to Gia.
“Where’d ya take her?” Prosper asked. “I’ve only known you to bunk in the clubhouse. I know sure as hell you weren’t even thinking about bringing her here.”
“Shit no!” Jesus, how dumb did Prosper think he was?”
“My family sold the butcher shop, but we still own the building. There’s a small apartment over the shop. It’s furnished so I figured we could start off there.” Riker hurried to explain.
“And between the club, your mechanic job …and your...uh… let’s call them extracurricular activities. How much time you figure you’re gonna spend in that small walk-up over the butcher shop?” Prosper asked.
“Boss… why you busting my balls?” Riker frowned.
“Not my intent. Just wondering where your head’s at.”
Riker shrugged. “The job and the club keep me busy that’s true…but the extracurricular stuff? If you mean the time I spend fucking and fighting? That ain’t gonna be happening. I got more respect for Gia and for the whole situation than that. Time for me to adult. I get that.”
“Glad to hear it.” Prosper nodded his approval.
“But, you raise a good point.” Riker frowned thoughtfully. “Once Gia starts getting bigger, those stairs are gonna be a bitch. The bike shop I work at has been sold and I ain’t too crazy about the new owner. He hiked the prices up on repairs. Lots of the customers ain’t happy and I’ve gotten some offers for side jobs, I got the tools, but I don’t have a work space.Not gonna lie, it’s gonna be tough going for a while. But I never promised her a goddamn bed of roses either, boss. And Gia’s pretty cool about going with the flow. I think she gets I’m doin’ the best I can with what I got. Guess we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”
Prosper looked at Riker and gave him the grin of a proud parent.
“No arguments from me. I got nothing but admiration for the way you’ve stepped up, brother.” Prosper’s tone held a note of approval. “So, Pinky and I were sitting around thinking the other day, hell, we were talking about your situation, brother. Ain’t gonna lie. My woman is all about seeing that you, Gia and that baby of yours gets a good start. Not saying you can’t provide…” Prosper paused.
Not this again Riker thought to himself. The boss was doing that hedging thing he did when he had to talk about personal things with the brothers.
“Boss…I really need to get back…” Riker said. “So, with respect, you got something to say? I’d appreciate you just spitting it out.”
To Riker’s surprise, Prosper let out a chuckle. “Okay. You’re right. So, it’s like this, that lake house of mine has seen more action than a two- dollar whore. Seems like everybody and his brother has landed there at one time or another since I bought it way the fuck back when.”
“Yeah. Nice place.” Riker agreed.
“Well, It’s empty again. Hal, his woman and that priest will be gone for at least a year. After that, who the fuck knows? Plenty of room for a baby. Nice fresh air for Gia. At least she won’t be having to face a whole bunch of stairs every time she wants to go in or out. There’s that kick ass workout room that the club put in for Hal, a state of the art kitchen, a good solid dock, and the lake’s clean enough to swim and fish in. Come to think of it, I should move me in there myself.” Prosper snorted. “Anyway, I was thinking that being there might give you two some time to find your way without stepping all over each other. So, you want it? It’s yours. Do for you the same as I’ve done for the rest of ‘em. One year free rent, then we fucking go from there.”
“Really? You sure?” Riker was floored. He had been out to the lake house a couple of times and it was amazing. This was turning out to be a very good day.
“Damn straight. I had a cleaning company come in this morning so it’s all set. You should probably talk it over with your woman, you know how they need to be included in every damn domestic bullshit decision. But don’t take too long to decide because that place is like a goddamn train station, never stays empty for long. Now go, get your ass outa here, and on the way out, tell that trigger-tempered fool, Hammer, to grab himself a beer and come on in.”
Gia slumped down on the worn arm chair in the apartment where Riker had dumped her. He had mumbled something about a Saints meeting and then he had gone leaving her in what apparently was to be her new home.
God help her.
The four room walk up looked like something out of a seventies sitcom. Lots of avocado green, mustard yellow and burnt orange furnishings. The linoleum floor in the kitchen had a pattern that made her dizzy. The bathroom was very, very pink. The walls were covered with big rosy flowers etched into silver foiled paper. Pink geometric tiles on the floor, pink tub, pink sink, pink toilet. It was going to be like peeing in a cotton candy factory.
If Gia wasn’t so grateful that she felt so much better and that the quick, awkward wedding ceremony was over, she would have been in deep despair. But then she had to smile just slightly to herself. When Riker had picked her up from the hospital he had been in road leathers—an odd choice considering what the day would bring. Gia guessed whether overtly or subconsciously, Riker was making a statement—a reminder of who she was marrying. As if the huge tattoo of a broken- winged angel that covered his back, the smell of motor-oil and tobacco that followed him everywhere, and the huge Harley he drove wasn’t indication enough.
Gia knew exactly who Riker was and what she was signing up for. But this was her wedding day, and in the five minutes they would have to pledge their troth, she had had her own statement to make.
A typical Italian wedding for a mob boss’s daughter, would normally have included a mile long guest list of who’s who in the underworld. The rank and file of FBI agents lining the streets with their cameras and video surveillance equipment would have been even longer. Gia would have had a dozen bridesmaids decked out in dyed to match, a full orchestra band, a towering wedding cake and an open bar—all night long and all top shelf. It would have been the kind of wedding whose purpose was to make a statement. Its extravagance and guest list a testimony to the power and influence of the family.
It would have been the kind of wedding that Gia and Valentina had always rolled their eyes at.
> But when Gia had woken up that morning she had thought of that kind of wedding with longing. Not that she wanted a fountain cake, for god sakes but a five- minute ceremony in a dusty, old clerk’s office, to a man she barely knew and certainly didn’t love, was not exactly the kind of wedding that every woman dreams of either.
And what the hell was she going to wear? No matter the circumstances, she hadn’t wanted to mark the day wearing flip flops and jeans.
A minute after opening time, Gia had placed a call to Casa de Moda. Casa was an upscale, pricey boutique whose inventory she and Valentina had almost cleared out more than a few times—courtesy of Uncle G’s credit card. She had loosely explained her situation to Juliet, the owner. Juliet had gushed just enough to make Gia feel like a real bride, then she had texted Gia some pictures of dresses. They narrowed it down to three, and Juliet had sent those dresses, along with the shop’s make- up expert to the hospital.
While she waited for Riker to show, Gia did the best she could to check herself out in the hospital bathroom mirror. From what she could see, she looked pretty good—all things considered. The dress was a short, silvery, beaded confection that shimmered when it caught the light, and the empire waist was a perfect choice for her thickening waist. Gia’s hair— freshly washed, and smoothed— hung long and loose down her back. Her make-up was minimal and cleverly designed to camouflage and highlight. Gia’s long tanned legs were bare and she had on a pair of strappy silver sandals that, of course while being outrageously expensive, matched the dress perfectly.
Riker’s eyes lit in surprise and approval when he saw her, but to Gia’s disappointment he didn’t actually comment on the effort she had made. And the civil ceremony itself—pfft—it basically consisted of a bored looking stranger blurting out a few perfunctory words. Then there was a quick awkward kiss to seal the deal and that was it— Gia Bonzini’s big wedding day.
It was not even close to what she had always dreamed it would be, but probably no more than she deserved.
Raising Riker (Hells Saints MC) Page 6