Page 112 of Riding the Edge

“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.

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