Page 65 of Riding the Edge

“Fuck it,” I mutter. “Let’s teach these assholes how it’s done.”

“Thatta boy,” he replies, slamming his foot against the gas. As he hits a pothole going ninety in a thirty zone, I decide two things. First, Pipe can’t drive for shit and second, I should probably consider buying this car outright. It’ll be cheaper than paying late fees on a rental and after this ride, it’s obvious I’m going to go for my lungs repairing all the damage this dope does.

Making a sharp left, he races through an alley and nearly sideswipes a row of dumpsters.

“Who the fuck gave you a license?”

“Your mother,” he shouts as we dip into another pothole. “You going to tell me why you're riding around in this fucking death trap?”

Gripping the oh shit handle above me, my ass bounces out of the seat and my head hits the roof of the car. Too preoccupied trying to decide how I’m going to murder this idiot, the truth slips past my lips.

“I’m seeing Maria Bianci.”

“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he says, turning his head to me.

“For fuck’s sake look ahead of you!”

“You tap that yet?”

“What are we twelve? You want to whip out your dick and measure it against the wall while you’re at it?”

“You fed her the old braciola didn’t you?” he questions with a grin. “You dirty dog, you.”

“You tell anyone, and I swear to God, I’ll shoot your dick off,” I warn.

“Why so secretive? She’s fucking hot and classy as fuck.”

If it was up to me, there would be no secrets. The whole fucking world would know I not only spent the night between Maria’s legs but that I also planned on spending many more in her bed. But it’s obvious she’s not ready to tell anyone about us. I think it’s the health scare that’s got her all twisted. Once the results come back and everything is fine, I’ll press her about where we go from here. I’ll show her a real man don’t fucking run.

“Oh, God, please promise me you’ll let me be there when you tell Riggs you’re fucking his mother-in-law.”

“Jesus, Pipe—”

“Shit! Hold on to your shorts,” he shouts.

Turning my attention towards the front of the car, my eyes bulge as we head straight for Alvarez’s taco joint. Closing in, Pipe slams on the brakes and the tires skid over the curb. The grill slams into the front window and before I can curse Pipe to hell and back, the charger is parked in the center of the restaurant.

“How do you say, honey I’m home in Spanish?” Pipe questions, reaching into his vest for his piece.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” I sneer, reaching for the door.

Stepping out of the car, we’re greeted by a bunch of Spanish expletives. The cook comes into my view and I order him to grab Alvarez. Waiting for him and his crew, I make my way to the front of the car and assess the damage. The whole front end of the Charger is fucked.

“What the fuck is this?” Alvarez shouts, drawing my attention away from the smoking car.

“That’s a car,” Pipe supplies, pulling out his gun. “And that is a busted window.”

Two guys dressed in Devil’s Cross cuts flock to Alvarez’s side and as the three of them shout in Spanish, I close the distance between us.

“Do you know who I am?” I ask standing before him. I wait for him to look at Pipe’s vest for clarification but instead, the little fuck looks me in the eye and grins.

“You’re Triggers old man.”

“Who the fuck is Trigger?” Pipe mutters.

“Nico,” I grunt.

“Couldn’t you people give him a better name?”

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