Page 36 of Riding the Edge

“I bet,” I say with a smirk.

“Anyway, after Lauren was born he did us all a favor and took off,” she says, pushing her bread dish away from her. “Literally, he went for milk and never came back. Lauren doesn’t remember him, and Anthony will never forget his back as he walked out the door. Ten years later, the cops paid me a visit at work. Apparently, he had been running from the Falcone’s and they finally found him. They put three bullets in the back of his head and that was the end of Carmine. It sounds awful, but I was relieved. For years I wondered why he left. I mean, everyone has a right to leave someone but at least tell them why. It’s painful to be abandoned but even more so knowing the person leaving felt you weren’t worth an explanation.”

Through the years, Anthony never gave the club much. I’m sure he divulged more to Jack but the rest of us knew the bare minimum. We all knew Maria was a single mother but none of us knew her father and husband had been killed by the mob. The revelation provided so much insight to the woman sitting in front of me. It’s no wonder she despised Victor’s role in her son’s life. It also makes me understand her resentment towards every man who walks on the other side of the law.

“When I found out Anthony was working for the mob, I lost it,” she whispers. “I had worked so hard, trying to give him and his sister a decent life that I missed the signs and I was angrier with myself than with his choice.”

“You feared he’d wind up like his old man.”

“Or mine,” she agrees. “He would leave money on the counter every morning and every morning I would stash the knot under my mattress. He thought he was helping me make ends meet, but I never spent a nickel of that blood money. After he went away, I put every dollar into a CD. When he came out, I gave him the passbook and begged him to turn his life around. He had already lost so much, I feared he’d lose his life next.”

She pauses, cocking her head to the side.

“As parents, we can only do so much. I might’ve failed him as a child, but I wouldn’t fail him as an adult. He opened the boxing gym with that money and gave himself a future without the mob.”

“You raised a fine man,” I tell her. “Be proud.”

“I’m proud of both my children but they deserve the credit, not me. A single mother may struggle but don’t doubt for one second, her children don’t as well. My children are the people they are today because they’re survivors.”

“They got that from somewhere, Lady.”

I watch her look away and draw in a deep breath. Ready for her argument, she surprises me by nodding instead.

“I guess you’re right. When things seemed hopeless and life knocked me down, I always got back up.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” I reply. “That might be the first time you agreed with me.”

“That’s not true,” she retorts, bringing her gaze back to me. “I agreed to this dinner, didn’t I?”

“Reservations and all.”

“It’s nothing personal, Al,” she whispers.

“I get that,” I say hoarsely. Clearing my throat, I cross my hands over the table and lean forward. “I represent a life you escaped but we’re not all the same, Lady. Some of the best people I’ve ever met are the people I’m honored to call my brothers. I’ll tell ya something else too—a biker is the safest man a woman can be with,” I add.

Raising an eyebrow, she leans back in her chair.

“Are you forgetting my daughter was shot?”

Shaking my head, I reply.

“Some things are out of our control. Yeah, your daughter was shot, but she survived because the man upstairs decided it wasn’t her time. If it was, she could’ve just as well got hit by a truck like she did that bullet and I promise you a civilian wouldn’t have jumped in front of that oncoming truck like Bones stepped in front of a bullet.”

Diverting her eyes to her lap, she grows silent. Maybe I overstepped bringing up her daughter, but I felt compelled to defend my kind against the men who have burned her in the past. Not every man who is rough around the edges is a scumbag. Some of us know a good woman is a rare find and if you’re lucky enough to stumble upon one, you fucking treat her like a queen and if you don’t, you’re a broken pawn.

Her phone rings inside her purse, causing her to swipe it from the table. Pulling out the phone, she lifts her head.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s my daughter, do you mind?”

“Go ahead,” I reply.

Attempting to give her privacy, I signal for the waiter and as she talks to her daughter, I order some appetizers for the table.

“No, you sauté the onions until they’re translucent before you add the tomato sauce.”

Looking back at her, she shakes her head and covers the phone.

“She’s still trying to figure out how to cook.”

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