My fingers curl into his skin as I lean close to his ear.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl, squeezing his neck harder.
“Police business,” he chokes.
“The last I checked that didn’t involve a fifth of vodka,” I sneer, watching the veins in his forehead begin to bulge. After a few more moments at my mercy, I release him. Grabbing the motherfucker’s shoulders, I spin him around to face me and watch him stumble backward. That’s when I notice the pig isn’t as polished as he usually is and looks unhinged. Normally dressed immaculately, tonight he looks like he took a ride to the bowery. His suit is wrinkled and his shirt is only partially tucked into his slacks. In all the years this motherfucker has been busting my balls, I’ve never seen him not freshly shaved or without a tie.
“You assaulting an officer of the law, Pipe?” he taunts, waving a hand. “You all saw him grab me,” he slurs, wobbling about. “You saw him, sweetheart, didn’t you?” he asks Layla.
“That’s it,” I growl, grabbing his throat. Ignoring the gasps around me and the horror in Layla’s eyes, I drag the filthy pig out of the bar. Once we’re outside, I push him against the wall and wedge my forearm against his neck.
“Let’s get something straight, Brantley. If you want a piece of me be man enough to take it, but don’t fucking come around here sniffing Layla out. I’m not Blackie, I’ll bury you.”
“Fuck you,” he sneers. “You ruined my fucking case.”
Narrowing my eyes, I cock my head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, not really giving a fuck either. All I want is him away from Layla.
“I know what you did, you son of a bitch. I’m here to tell you that it won’t stop me. You won’t stop me. Come hell or high water I’m going to bring all you fucks down. The Satan’s Knights are done.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that and yet here we are,” I tell him, leaning all my weight on him. “Do what you gotta do, Brantley, but if I ever catch you with Layla again, I’ll cut your dick off and shove it down your mother’s throat.”
“Lee,” Layla shouts behind me. “Stop it!”
Without another word, I shove him against the brick wall before releasing my hold on him. His hands move to his bruised throat as he fights to catch his breath.
Fuck him.
His mother should have swallowed his ass.
Cracking my knuckles, I take a step back and glance at Layla.
“You good?” I question, watching her eyes widen at me.
Good, she’s fine. She just thinks I’m a fucking lunatic. I can live with that.
“You look like a smart woman,” Brantley says hoarsely. “Don’t disappoint me,” he adds, trying his best to compose himself. “It would be a shame if you ended up like the rest of them.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I roar, lunging for him once more. Layla is quick, pushing herself in front of me.
“Quit it,” she hollers as Brantley brushes past us. I keep my eyes trained on him, watching as he walks into the parking lot and eventually out of sight. Something is off with him, I feel it and I always trust my gut. It has saved my ass more times than I can count.
I feel Layla’s hands on my chest, shoving me back, and it forces me to divert my eyes to her. Angry as hell and sexy as fuck, she glares back at me.
“Who do you think you are coming in here and causing a scene?” she yells.
“What did that motherfucker say to you?” I question, ignoring her tantrum and angering her more. A hard-on isn’t something I need right now and I try not to stare at her mouth, reminding myself Brantley is a fucking weasel.
“I’m a grown woman who can handle myself just fine. I am not your concern,” she fires back with irritation.
I don’t like it.
And I sure as fuck don’t like being told she isn’t my concern.
Leaning into her, I lay out the truth.
“Had my dick in you, yeah?” I growl, lifting her chin as I peer back at her. “That’s all the right I need.”
That’s a fucking fact.
The only one she ever needs to know.
“The fuck it is,” she spits. “You gave up your rights or did you forget that?”
“I changed my mind,” I say simply, dropping my hand from her face. “I want them back,” I add, crossing my arms against my chest. “Now, tell me what Brantley said or I’m going to go back inside that bar and ask everyone you served what they heard.”
“I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“Not going to ask you again, killer.”
Running her fingers through her hair, she looks away.
“I don’t want to have this conversation here, Lee,” she says finally.
“Fine, tell your friend you’re done for the night and let’s go home.”
Her head snaps back and she stares at me.
“You’re an asshole,” she murmurs.
“We know this already, Layla. Let’s go,” I reiterate, losing my patience. Pulling out my smokes, I watch her turn her back to me and stalk toward the bar. Two cigarettes and ten minutes later, she emerges ignoring me all the way to her car.
She hasn’t got a clue that I get off on this shit, that I’m hard as a rock watching her slam the door. No, Layla doesn’t know she’s fucking driving me crazy and I want to fuck her until she can’t breathe. I almost want it more than I want to crucify Brantley.
Almost.
Following her back home is a new experience and I learn Layla is a shitty driver. She hits every bump, drives ten miles below the speed limit and rides the brake like someone’s ninety-year-old grandma. It’s either that or she’s fucking with me. I can’t be so sure. When we finally make it home, she pulls into her driveway and slams her door, making it clear this isn’t going to be easy.
I grab her hand as she starts for the walkway and pull her toward my house.
“My kids…” She seethes.
“Are fine.”
“How would you know?”
“I was with them before I came to the bar. The girls are sleeping and Tommy is probably sitting in front of the television with that fucking game of his,” I inform her, leading her up the stairs. Stunned, she shuts her mouth and doesn’t say another word until we’re in my living room.
“We can talk or we can fuck, you’re call,” I tell her as I fall back on the couch. “But if we fuck first don’t think that gets you out of telling me what that dick said to you.”
“Why do you hate him so much?”
“I’ve got my reasons.”
“Well then you better start talking because I’m not leaving without answers,” she says sternly. Standing by the window, she glances down at the cardboard box I haven’t touched since I placed Oksana’s shoes inside. “Is it true?” she whispers.
“Is what true?”
She lifts one shoe out of the box and turns to me.
“Brantley said there was an explosion at the Satan’s Knight clubhouse and that’s how your wife died. Is it true?”
I ignore the anger pulsing through my veins and nod a reply. Brantley shouldn’t have been the one to tell her the truth, but I can’t put that on him. I had every opportunity to come clean and I avoided it like the plague.
Now it was time to lay all my cards on the table and hope she’s crazy enough to ride it out with me. It’s time to give Layla the choice she deserves.
But first I have one last truth to tell.
“You should sit,” I tell her.
It's time introduce Layla to Pipe.
Chapter Thirty
In order to rise up, you have to fall. It’s a fast and furious descent that renders you speechless and leaves you staring up at the heavens wondering how you’ll ever climb this hurdle. That’s the mantra I keep repeating over and over inside my head.
I’m glad I took Lee’s advice and sat down before he started delivering blow after blow, truth after ugly truth. It made the fall a little less painful a
s he shed light on all his secrets.
Starting at the beginning, he shared the little he knew about his biological family. His mother was an Irish immigrant who suffered her fair share of heartache and no matter how bad life tried to beat her down, she kept rising. A woman, who as a result of a horrific circumstance, found herself pregnant and still chose to be a mother.
She chose Lee.
Day after day, struggle upon struggle, she chose her son.
Until he found her in an alley with her neck slit and her eyes wide open.
Until the police took the lost boy who lay beside his mother’s lifeless body into custody.
Reliving his past, he continued to share the gritty details of what it was like being a kid in the system. He shared the pain that led to a life of bad choices and introduced me to the man many call Pipe.
I now know the significance behind the road name. I know that before his sixteenth birthday he taught himself how to craft pipe bombs and sold them on the streets. Mobsters, gangs and thugs knew who he was and hired him to blow things up. Pipe was the orphan everyone knew and feared.
Until he got caught.
Until he was shipped to Tryon and labeled a juvenile delinquent.
That’s where he met Alfonse Scotto. According to Lee, Alfonse saved his life. He protected him inside juvie and gave him a place in the world after his time was served. Alfonse and Lee met in that prison as kids and when they left as young men they no longer went by the names their mothers gave them.
Alfonse became Wolf and Lee became Pipe.
Brothers by choice, they were the next generation of Satan’s Knights.
He wouldn’t get into all the details of his club but admitted they were one percenters, which meant they were outlaws. That didn’t shock me in the slightest and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wondered what type of crimes he committed, but I knew better than to ask.
This was about truth not avoidance.
He shared what he knew made the headlines, the things that were public knowledge and could be found in the archives of any New York City newspaper. He mentioned old timers like Victor Pastore and Jimmy Gold. He even talked a bit about the first man he took orders from, Cain, and shared the story of how Jack Parrish took his place. He talked a lot about Jack, about his illness and his son’s tragic death, and with every revelation it became clear that these men weren’t just buddies of Lee’s. They were his chosen family and when he used the term brother to reference them, he meant it in every sense of the word.
Like any other family, the Satan’s Knights had their share of highs and lows. They celebrated and they mourned. They laughed, they cried and they did all of it together.
Until a man walked into their home with a bomb strapped to his chest.
Until Pipe found his wife in the very same position he found his mother.
“After the blast, I found her with her neck slit and her eyes wide open. I didn’t believe it at first. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me,” he reveals, pausing for a beat. His eyes drift away from his hands and land on the shoes in front of me. “I told her to get behind the bar. I thought she would be safe there, but it was the glass shelf that sliced her neck.”
Swallowing, I wipe the tears that have not stopped falling from my eyes since the introduction to Pipe started. There is so much to say and nothing to say at all. I have questions, so many questions I don’t have the courage to ask. He takes my silence, accepts it and gives me more.
I learn in that instant that Pipe is a giver too.
“I blamed my club for her death. I told myself it was all our bad deals and asinine theories that killed Oksana. I pointed a finger at Jack and told him it should’ve been someone else, someone he loved. I called him a bad leader and discredited him to my brothers. I blamed everyone not to fault myself. Then I walked away. I ripped my patch off, the one thing that defined me for years and left the only family I’ve ever known. The people I chose to stand beside in times of despair, I walked away from them when we needed each other most.”
“You were grieving,” I defend, understanding better.
“So were they, I just didn’t notice.”
“Was Oksana the only casualty?”
“No,” he says.
“And the men who did this? What happened to them?”
He simply stares at me, his silence is the answer to my question. Knowing better than to press for another truth, I lean back and let everything he’s already shared sink in. The Lee I know is very different from the Pipe the Satan’s Knights know and love. It makes me question how the two become one and if he even wants that. I don’t believe for one second that Lee is ready to sever his ties to his club. I think he needs change. He needs to find a way to make the man he used to be and the man he is now come together.
He doesn’t just need God.
Lee and Pipe both need love.
Life sold him down the river but love could bring him back.
“Brantley,” Lee says, drawing me away from my revelation. “He knows I’ve parted ways with the club and he’s looking to use me as a tool to bring everyone down. He wants me to rat on my brothers.”
The man must not be too bright if he thinks Lee is the type of man who would dishonor his family. He is loyal to the core, something I learned from the beginning without the back story of how he came to be Pipe. If you’ve got this man in your corner then you’ve got him until the end of his days. Bitter and all, if you call on him, he will run.
He’ll break through steel to find you.
If you’re the one falling, he’s the one lifting you up and if he can’t then he’ll fall beside you.
“Obviously that’s not your style,” I whisper softly.
“No, it’s not,” he says, shaking his head. “But him showing his face, getting in your head, all that means is he’s not going away.”
“Where does that leave you?”
“Right where I am,” he answers instantly.
“Is that what you really want?” I ask sincerely.
“Truth?”
“Of course,” I murmur.
“I’m conflicted,” he admits. “I left, stayed gone and after all that I still can’t fathom never putting that reaper on my back again. It can’t be everything though. I lost years to my club and I’ve got nothing to show for it. When I die I don’t just want to be known as Pipe. I don’t want the people reading my eulogy to go on about how I was a kid from the streets who made it through life praying at Satan’s altar.”
He stands up and closes the distance between us. Crouching down in front of me, he places his hands on my knees and our eyes lock.
“I want you, Layla,” he rasps. Lifting one hand, he points between us. “This, you and me, those kids, I see it. I feel it deep down in my bones. I don’t want to walk away from that. I don’t know if I can have both. I’ve never tried to,” he goes on, admitting yet another truth. “I can promise to give it my best shot but that’s gotta be your call. You need to decide what’s best for you and your kids and whatever choice you make I will respect.”
If I told him right this second that we were done, that I didn’t want to be a part of his world, I have no doubt he’d respect my wishes. That terrifies me. More so than all the truths he’s exposed tonight.
However, if I choose him, if I decide he has a place in my life, in my kid’s lives, then I know for certain Lee will fight with everything he is to keep that place. Isn’t that what every woman wants? Someone to fight for them?
A woman who has been discarded after years of marriage wants that.
She wants that for herself and for her children.
I want that.
I want him.
The question isn’t how does Lee fit into my life, but how will my children and I fit into Pipe’s life? Knowing all I know now and imagining what I don’t, how do I consciously bring my children into a world I don’t understand? If it was only me, this wouldn’t be an issue, but I have to keep my children safe.
He can swear on a stack of bibles that he’ll do everything to keep them safe, but the truth is he never saw that bomb coming. On the other hand, there are things in life we can’t control. If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that. Death is one of those things. When it’s your time, it’s your time. No one and nothing can save you from that.
Recalling the story of Jack’s son, I think about how his death was an accident. It wasn’t some manufactured vendetta against the club that took that little boy’s life. It was unfortunate circumstances. It was being at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was God knowing that little boy was too good, too pure to be here, and for that he decided to take him. If he wasn’t with his father, if that little boy had been with his mother that day; that car still would have found him.
It’s a horrible thing to think about, but it’s the faith I’ve come to believe in.
We can spend our whole life trying to protect the people we love and still lose them in the blink of an eye. I think that’s why so many people find themselves questioning God and asking him why me?
Placing his finger under my chin, Lee turns my head a fraction. For a moment, he pauses and simply studies me with those light eyes of his.
“Think about it,” he tells me. “Think long and hard because I want you to be certain with whatever you decide.”
Taking his hand from my knee, I intertwine our fingers and lean forward, touching my forehead to his.
I want this man.
I want to be the one who loves him.
“What happens in the meantime?” I whisper.
“In the meantime, you need to pick me out something to wear,” he hisses. “Something that won’t embarrass Jenna or make me want to crawl out of my skin…and it can’t be one of those fancy fucking suits either.”
Confused, I pull back an inch, drawing my eyebrows together.
“Come again?”
“You heard me,” he mutters, rising to his feet. “Your ex-husband called tonight and told Jenna he can’t make it to some dance.”
“It’s not just some dance,” I correct, outraged. “I can’t believe he cancelled on taking her to the father daughter dance.” The anger fades from my voice as I realize how disappointed my daughter must have been and how I wasn’t there to comfort her. “She was looking forward to that dance,” I rasp.
From the Ruins Page 24
