Page 89 of Riding the Edge

Chapter Twenty-seven

The next morning, I got a call from Bianci telling me that he was going to take care of what we had discussed. I wanted to ask him why he waited so long to do as he was told but he hung up before I got the chance. To be fair, it was better he waited. With everything going on with Maria, I hadn’t had a chance to fill Pipe in on the fact that we were going to let the paramedic go. It wasn’t the ideal solution and risky as fuck but none of us needed another dead body on our hands.

Pulling into the garage, I kill the engine of my bike and glance around the lot. Finding Pipe sitting on a stack of crates smoking a joint, I make my way towards him. The closer I get, the clearer his distress becomes. Lifting his beady eyes to mine, he blows out a ring of smoke and shakes his head.

“I don’t got time to play cowboys and Indians with you today, Wolf.”

Shoving my hands in my pocket, I rock back on my heels and shake my head.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not here to throw down with you, Pipe,” I retort. “I got some news I need to share.”

“Yeah, well now isn’t a good time.”

“That’s too bad seeing as this can’t wait,” I say, biting my cheek.

“Look, Wolf,” he starts, jumping off the stack of crates. “Unless you’re here to collect your patch, there’s nothing you can say that I—”

“I won’t be taking my patch back anytime soon,” I interject. “I don’t know if Riggs has told the club, but Maria’s been diagnosed with stage two breast cancer.”

At the revelation, he tosses the joint to the ground and runs a hand over his scruff.

“No,” he says. “He didn’t. Christ, Wolf, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah,” I reply, swallowing. “She’s having a double mastectomy in a few weeks and after that, she’s going to need radiation, but the doctors are very optimistic,” I inform him, pausing before I continue. “So am I.”

“A double mastectomy? How is she taking that?”

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.

The first couple of days after she found out were rough on her. She was quiet and lost in her own head. I’d catch her lifting her hands to her chest and once after she showered, I walked in on her standing in front of the mirror, staring at her naked form. I noticed if she kept herself busy, she didn’t dwell on it too much and so, we became the fucking ’Brady Bunch’, entertaining my kids, her kids, and the grandkids. When we weren’t playing house, I took her out. We hit some of our favorite restaurants, took long walks along the Belt Parkway and even made it to see a movie. I don’t remember the last time I went to the movies.

“And you?” he asks, catching me off guard.

“That don’t matter.”

“Sure, it does,” he argues, straightening his shoulders as he crosses his arms against his chest. “A man don’t walk away from the only life he’s ever known to make it right with a woman and not feel anything when that woman gets diagnosed with cancer.”

“I’m fine,” I say. “I just need to be strong for her and take care of mine before I take care of the Knights.”

“Right,” he replies. “Well if you gotta break, you know my number.”

The truth is, I haven’t given too much thought to how I feel about the situation. Am I scared? No, because I know she’s going to kick this thing. If I had to pinpoint a single emotion, I’d say I was angry more than anything.

Angry that God chose her.

Angry that I can’t snap my fingers and make it go away.

Angry that she cries when no one is looking.

Angry that her kids are worried sick.

Just fucking angry.

“I want to tell you to take whatever time you need,” he continues. “But, Wolf, man—Jack’s getting worse. We agreed that you would take care of the paramedic while I kept the crazy at bay, but you should know that the plan was compromised.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, Parrish has staged a meeting with the Sinaloa cartel.”

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