Page 50 of Riding the Edge

Chapter Fourteen

It’s amazing how a morning can start off like a dream and so quickly turn into a nightmare. Waking up in Maria’s bed was fucking bliss. Having her naked body straddle me was heaven. Her son interrupting the moment—that was where the descent into hell began.

Just when I was starting to accept Anthony Bianci as an extension of the Satan’s Knights and no longer a thorn in my side, he comes knocking on his mother’s door, ruining my good time. I probably should’ve considered the dysfunction that is the Bianci family before I got involved with Maria. Not that it would’ve changed my mind about pursuing her, but maybe I would’ve been a little more prepared for hurricane hitman.

For starters, I would’ve told him not to fucking intrude on his mother’s privacy. Then, I would’ve advised him to speak to her with a little more respect. It took all the self-control I could muster not to charge into the living room half naked when he started questioning her choice in men. I know the kid loves his mother and all that, but he acts like he’s the fucking parent in the relationship. At least that’s what I thought before he revealed Maria had lent that weasel from the bowling alley two grand. The shit with him and his gangster cousin-in-law was none of my business but that cunt taking money from Maria and not having the decency to pay her back—I was making that my business.

Right after I knock my own son’s teeth down his throat.

After I left Maria’s, I headed to return the Charger. However, I didn’t make it there because Patty called saying she needed to go into work early this morning and wanted one of us at the hospital when the doctor made his rounds. Being the great guy that I am, I headed straight for the hospital—rental late fees be damned. Upon my arrival, I found two fucking leather clad guys with the Devil’s Cross MC insignia tattooed on their arms, leaving Nico’s room.

The Devil’s Cross is an up and coming club with charters mostly stationed near the Mexican border. Recently they’ve been looking to make a move on the eastern seaboard because of their connection with the Sinaloa cartel. While they’re not a direct threat to the Knights, they are nothing but a bunch of heroin pushing cunts and people I don’t want my kid associating with.

“Tell me again, why I just saw two patched members of the Devil’s Cross MC leave your room,” I growl, running my fingers through my hair.

“Jesus, Pop. I can’t even get a hey, son, good to see you alive or a how’s the hole in your chest?” Nico mocks.

“Cut the shit, Nico,” I sneer. “If your mother had walked in on that she would’ve nailed my balls to the cross and shot you herself.”

“Lighten up, will you? They were just here to see how I’m doing considering I just had a fucking breathing tube taken out of my throat yesterday,” he grunts, wincing as he tries to sit up.

Closing my fist, I try to rein in my anger and find my patience.

“Why do they care?” I ask, clenching my teeth.

“Shouldn’t the question be, why the Knights don’t care? By now I thought Uncle Jack and the guys would be swarming this place, yet the only brother of yours to show up is Linc.”

“Jack and Pipe were here the day after you were brought in,” I shout, poking a finger against my chest. “I’m the one that sent them away.”

“Yeah, and why is that, Pop?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“And what I do with the Devil’s Cross is none of yours,” he spats. “I asked Uncle Jack to let me prospect, and he turned me down. He gave me some shit about talking to you first. Do you know how many times over the last two years I tried to sit you down and tell you how I wanted to become a member of the club? But you never had time for me. You were always too busy rescuing someone that wasn’t your son.”

It’s one thing to admit to yourself you’ve failed as a father, it’s a completely different ballgame hearing your son say it. It trumps any and every heartbreak.

“Nico—”

“Don’t fucking try to deny it, Dad. You don’t even know who you are if you’re not someone’s savior. If it’s not one of your brother’s, it’s Aunt Joanne or Kelly but, when is it ever me? When is it ever Enzo or Frankie? I thought if I started hanging around the clubhouse more… if I took an interest in your world then maybe, just maybe you’d take an interest in me.”

“My world?” I question hoarsely, stepping closer to his bed. “My fucking world is shit,” I holler. “It’s fucking hollow and filled with blood. It’s everything I never wanted for you. It’s the very fucking reason your mother, and I kept you as far away from the club as we could. Now, you listen here, kid, those fucking jalapeno loving bastards are not the kind of people you need in your life. They’re amateur thugs looking to get their dicks wet, by pushing H and making a name for themselves with the cartel.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t get to decide,” he retorts. “I’m a prospect for the Devil’s Cross and those men you just saw, they’re my brothers. I’ve always shown your brotherhood respect, I’d appreciate it if you did the same for mine.”

“One fucking bullet wasn’t enough for you?” I shout. “You think you’re a badass now, is that it? Got yourself a scar to prove your worth to a bunch of pissants. You underestimate me, Nico,” I grind out, rounding the bed. “If you think I’m going to sit back and let you sell your soul like I sold mine, you’re out of your fucking mind.”

“I needed my old man to take the training wheels off my bike when I was six. I don’t need shit from him now that I’m twenty-six. I can hold my own on two wheels just fine.”

Like a knife to the chest, his words sear me. The rage that consumed me a moment ago, fades and is replaced by desperation.

“Son,” I rasp. “I won’t allow you to make the biggest mistake of your life. Not while I’m still breathing.”

“I want you to go,” he interrupts. “Turn around and just go.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Sure, you can you’ve done it my whole life.”

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