Page 4 of Rafe: Sins of the Father

“Fine,” I say tightly.

He grabs my arm. “Stay out here a minute. I gotta fill you in on the meeting.”

It’s the last thing I want to do, but I drag a hand through my hair and turn back.

His eyes shift between me and Kyle. The tension is so thick he could cut it with a knife. “What’s the trouble?”

“No trouble,” Kyle answers for us. “Just brothers being brothers.”

I fold my arms and stand, boots spread. “You needed to tell me something?”

“Yeah.” His attention shifts to Kyle. “You tell him?”

“Didn’t get that far.”

“Remember the good widow… the wife of the club’s attorney?”

“Yeah, what of her?” I remember someone had murdered her husband, and she’d come to Cole for help. She’d wanted him to take care of whoever had done it. Turned out it was the mafia.

“The Santorini crime family lost one of their guys in Vegas. They caught a woman on one of their surveillance cameras. They think it was her. They want Cole to turn her over.”

“Holy shit.” My arms come unfolded. “He gonna do it?”

“He hasn’t decided yet.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Not sure. Probably nothing good. Just keep your eyes peeled for anything suspicious.”

“Like a Cadillac being driven by a guy with a pinkie ring?” I try to lighten the mood.

“Exactly. New Jersey boys stand out in Cali like a turd in a punch bowl.” Green studies me. “You hurtin’ for money? I mean, I know you ain’t paid your dues, but have you made your mortgage payments?”

“Yeah. I had enough left from the insurance money to cover this month and next. I’m okay.”

“You need a loan, let me know.” Green touches my shoulder. “Understand? I don’t want you losin’ your house.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“One for all, and all for one. Comes with that patch on your back, youngin’. That and all the pussy you can handle.”

I grin. Green always has a way of cutting up, but still reminding us he’s always here for us second generation patches. “Gotcha.”

A pickup truck pulls in, and I recognize it immediately.

It parks, and the driver leans out the window.

My mother looks as beautiful as the pictures I’ve seen of her when she was in her twenties. Her long hair is dark, and her skin is flawless.

“Hey, Ma.” Kyle says.

“Rafe,” she says, and motions me over.

I meet her at the driver’s side window. “What’s up?”

“I just saw a video of you pulling a man from a burning car. It’s all over the evening news. About three different witnesses filmed it on their phones.”

My brows lift. “Are you kidding me?”

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