Page 12 of Riding the Edge

“Do you have any leads?” she asks.

“Patty—”

“I want to know who did this to my son,” she interjects.

“No, that’s why we’re hoping Mr. Scotto will cooperate with us.”

“He wasn’t there,” Enzo reveals.

“Jesus Christ,” I seethe, running my fingers through my hair.

“We found Nico at our father’s house. There was no one else there,” Frankie tells them.

Patty moves to stand between the boys, hanging on their every word, like she’s fucking Sherlock Holmes and is going to crack the case. My blood pressure flies off the fucking charts as Enzo continues to fill in the blanks and I glance over at Maria, expecting her to join in on the circus. Instead, I find her staring at me.

“Nico was conscious and able to tell us that whoever shot him also took Kelly,” Enzo says.

“We saw the blood at the house,” Gallo reveals, meeting my gaze. “We’ve deemed it a crime scene.”

Great.

“Your brother had to be in bad shape when you found him and instead of calling an ambulance right away, you took him to Pipe’s Garage,” Gallo continues, turning his attention back to the boys. “Any reason why?”

“That’s enough,” I shout, moving to stand in front of my sons. “You want more, call my fucking lawyer. Your precinct has the number.”

“With all due respect Mr. Scotto, like I already said, I have a dead paramedic on my hands, a missing girl and a bunch of outlaws looking to pull some vigilante justice—”

I might be the lone wolf in this story but that doesn’t change the core of my existence. I ain’t no rat and while my place within the club is questionable, my morals remain intact. These pigs aren’t sincere. They could give a fuck less that Yankovich broke into my house, shot my kid and took Kelly. A fucking piece of shit, kidnapping rapist isn’t a high priority for them but the Satan’s Knights, we’re a fucking ticket to a promotion and the key to the city.

“I don’t give two fucks what you have,” I sneer. “They saw their brother bleeding like a pig on the living room floor and panicked. They came to the garage because I was there. What happened after that is a fucking blur to all of us. Now, I don’t know what happened to your paramedic and to be honest, I don’t really give a fuck either—”

“Al,” Maria calls.

Ignoring her, I continue.

“As for my club, you motherfuckers seem to have a hard-on for us—”

“For crying out loud, Al!” Maria hollers, stepping around me so that she’s in my face. “Turn around,” she orders, pointing behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Patty turn first. Grabbing my hand, she squeezes it as I look over my shoulder, spotting the team of surgeons walking towards us.

My eyes focus on the surgeon leading the pack and I watch as he pulls the bandana off his head, noting he looks as exhausted as the rest of us. Aside from that, his face remains neutral, and he comes to a halt in front of us.

“Mr. and Mrs. Scotto?”

Neither, Patty nor myself, correct him.

“How is he?” I question hoarsely.

“He’s critical but stable,” he reveals. The instant the words leave his mouth, I squeeze Patty’s hand and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank you, God,” Patty cries.

“We were able to remove the bullet and repair the damage, but it was very extensive. A half of an inch to the left and that bullet would’ve punctured his heart. As you know, he lost an extreme amount of blood and he’ll probably need another transfusion.”

“We’ll give more blood,” Frankie offers next to me.

“Right now, we have what we need,” the surgeon continues. “He’s on a ventilator and we’re moving him into ICU. The goal is to remove the vent after twenty-four to forty-eight hours, but you need to keep in mind his body has suffered an incredible trauma.”

“When can we see him?” I ask.

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