Page 104 of Riding the Edge

“Coffee would be great,” he replies.

With a nod, I turn and head into the kitchen. Unaware that Jack is following me, I come to a halt as I watch Maria place a plate of pancakes in front of Nico.

“Found it, didn’t you, brother?” Jack questions quietly behind me.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” I reply as Maria straightens up and glances at us.

“This place is jumping this morning,” Riggs comments. “Who needs the International House of Pancakes when you got Maria Bianci serving up flapjacks.”

“Jack,” Maria greets. Surprised her eyes dart between mine and Parrish’s. “Are you hungry? I can turn the griddle on—”

“I’m good,” he interrupts, holding up a hand as he takes in all the faces surrounding the table. “A cup of coffee would be great though.”

“I got it,” I say, moving to the cabinet to grab a mug. Knowing Parrish takes his coffee as dark as his soul, I fill the mug to the brim and hand it to him before turning back to Maria. “We’re going to go outside.”

“Is this official reaper business or can I grab another short stack?” Riggs questions, wiping the syrup from his mouth.

“Why don’t you sit this one out,” Jack says, taking a sip of the coffee.

Riggs rolls his eyes and points a finger to Nico.

“You going to eat all that?”

Shaking my head, I lean into Maria and press my lips to her cheek.

“Remember what I said,” she whispers, touching a hand to my cheek. “Whatever it takes, Al.”

You and me.

With another quick kiss and a pat on her ass, I take my mug and lead Jack towards the front of the house. Outside, we each take a seat on the stoop and quietly drink our coffee. Both of us know what is about to come down the pipe and neither of us is willing to be the one that exposes the truth.

“Nico showed up at my house this morning,” he starts. He might be at the end of his rope but once a leader, always a leader. “Says you are giving the green light for him to prospect.”

“Can’t fight City Hall, Parrish. He’s not a boy anymore and it’s time I accept that.”

“There are worse things to have to accept,” he says. I don’t need for him to elaborate to know he’s referring to all the things he’s been forced to accept.

The death of his son.

An uncontrollable illness.

The end of his run.

“You went over my head,” he says. “Took matters with the Devil’s Cross into your own hands.”

“Parrish—”

“I ain’t giving you shit for it,” he interrupts. “Part of me is grateful.”

“And the other part?”

“The other part knows a father’s love has no bounds.”

It’s hard to believe the man is losing his mind when something so profound comes out of his mouth and it leaves me questioning my stand on the matter.

“I’m sorry about Maria,” he says, breaking the beat of silence. “I would’ve expressed that sooner but—”

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” I interject, snapping my attention back to him. “She’s going to beat it.”

---