From the Ruins

by Janine Infante Bosco

  I can do that for Lee.

  “Yes,” I whisper, wiping my eyes.

  “Are you good to drive?”

  “Yes,” I answer, paying close attention as Jack instructs me on what to do. Once the plan is in motion, I end the call and hand the phone back to Tommy. Ordering him to put his seat belt on I notice the baseball bat between his legs. He tells me Lee gave it to him, demanding he takes his best shot at anyone who might fuck with him or the girls. As he recites Lee’s words, I can picture him saying them and it’s all the courage I need to follow Jack’s instructions.

  The entire ride back to the city I pray for Lee. I ask God to do right by him and keep him safe. I plead with the man upstairs not to take away the man who has restored my faith in love and loyalty.

  Jack meets me on the BQE just as he promised and I follow his motorcycle through the streets of New York to a quaint two-story house in Brooklyn. Tommy and I stare in awe at all the bikes lining the lawn and the men standing in the driveway waiting for us.

  All dressed in leather, they rush toward the truck. I barely have a chance to kill the engine before they’re opening the doors for us. A man with mostly gray hair holds out his hand for me to take and my eyes drift down to the patch on his vest.

  “You’re Wolf?”

  “Yes,” he says, helping me climb out of the truck. “And you’re Layla,” he adds with a smile. “You’re in good hands,” he swears. “We’ve got you.”

  I nod, blinking through the tears as I look over my shoulder at my children. The man wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night lifts Lexi into his arms and carries her effortlessly. The one with a shaved head helps a sleepy Jenna to her feet and a tall one with blue eyes wraps his arms around Tommy’s shoulder.

  “You won’t be needing this anymore,” he says, prying the bat from my son’s hand.

  “That there is Cobra,” Wolf says. “The one carrying your little one is Riggs and the one with your older daughter is Stryker.”

  I think I nod, I’m not sure.

  Jack pulls his helmet from his head and steps in front of me.

  “You did good, Layla,” he says.

  “What happens now?” I ask him.

  “Now we take you inside and introduce you to the rest of the family,” he replies nonchalantly. Like it’s no big deal that Lee is missing or the man who took him is not only a maniac with a gun but a man who has killed others.

  “Oh good,” I grind out. “Should we sing songs around the fire while we’re at it?” I ask incredulously, watching the three men bring my children inside the house. Once I’m sure they can’t see me, I snap and turn to Jack like a mad woman.

  “Did you not hear me when I said that crazy fuck dragged Lee out of the bar and shoved him into a car? He could be dead!”

  Wolf and Jack stare at me like I’ve got a third eye.

  Like I’m fucking crazy.

  “Are you listening to me? The cop who killed the other cop has Lee!”

  “I like her,” Wolf comments.

  “Yeah, me too,” Jack agrees, rolling a toothpick between his lips as he crosses his arms against his chest. “Now, simmer down, sweetheart. I told you everything would be fine, didn’t I?”

  Fine.

  Nothing is fine.

  “Go inside, get yourself and your kids settled. Riggs’ mother-in-law made some of her famous baked ziti. Grab yourself a plate and hunker down.”

  “Did you know she used the tomatoes from the garage?” Wolf asks him. “It’s fucking amazing.”

  Feeling as if I’ve entered the twilight zone, I stand there with my mouth open. They’re all manic or whatever it’s called.

  “Darlin’, quit looking at us like that,” Jack says finally. “I’m a man of my word and I swear I’ll make it right.”

  I want to believe him.

  “You and yours are property of Parrish now,” he adds, throwing his arm over my shoulders. “You know what that means?”

  “No,” I reply as he leads me into the house.

  “It’s okay,” he assures. “By the time this is all over you’ll know. I’ll make you a believer too.”

  A believer?

  Oh, I’m a believer.

  I believe Jack Parrish is fucking crazy.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  An excruciating pain sears through me, forcing my eyes open. It takes a minute to register the source of it but I’m able to separate the pulsing headache from the burning sensation shooting up my back. Similar to how I felt ten years ago when I was doing forty down a street and a car backing out of the driveway collided with me, knocking me off my bike. Anyone who has ever suffered a bad case of road rash knows you barely notice your skin is missing at first but as time goes on you feel like you’re suffering third degree burns. That’s what my back feels like as Brantley drags me across the floor.

  Grunting and cursing through the debilitating pain, I try to focus through my blurred vision and take notice of my surroundings. A little disoriented, I expect to find Layla somewhere but quickly remember wrestling Brantley for his gun and it going off as she walked out the door.

  “Layla,” I hiss through the pain.

  “Fuck that bitch,” Brantley sneers as he raises my hands above my head. With my arms extended high, the raw skin stretches and I feel the blood soak through the back of my shirt. Cursing in agony, I try to drop my arms back to my sides but he slams them high above my head and pins them down. Reaching behind him, he pulls a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and tightens them around one wrist. He threads the other side through the slot of a radiator before he wraps it around my other wrist.

  Defeated, I turn my head and look for something to focus on, something that will take my mind off the rawness of my back. Concentrating, I realize where I am and take in the destroyed garden apartment that once acted as the newlywed paradise Blackie and Christine shared. About a year ago the complex made the papers when the city bought it with the intentions of knocking it down and building one of those fancy malls. Glancing around at the exposed beams and the blasted windows, I decide they either started demolition on the joint or some punk-ass kids vandalized the fucking thing. Whatever the case, it’s just as depressing being here now as it was the day they carted Christine’s lifeless body out in a black bag.

  Christine.

  This motherfucker killed her.

  Turning my head, I watch the deranged animal pace the bare floors.

  “Why are we here, Brantley?” I grunt. “You want to take a walk down memory lane? Maybe you want to remind yourself what she looked like when the life left her eyes.”

  “Fuck you,” Brantley shrieks, grabbing a metal chair. Stalking toward me he continues to carry on. “I loved her! She was supposed to leave him,” he screams, holding the chair high above his head. “She knew he’d never let her go and the only way out was to send him to prison!”

  “She never would’ve left him, you asshole,” I grunt. “You fucked with her head. You got her hooked on that shit.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Truth hurts, motherfucker, don’t it,” I sneer as he rears the chair back and it collides with my ribs. Gritting through the pain, I force my eyes to remain open and on the motherfucker torturing me.

  “You better pray to God you find the balls to kill me,” I grind out as he tosses the chair across the room. Beaten and bloody, I watch as he kneels beside me.

  “You’re not leaving here alive, Jameson,” he sneers with that sinister smile of his. “I have to give it to you though…you’re a better man than Blackie. It was supposed to be your woman who died here today. She was going to suffer the same death as Christine. It was perfect. So fucking perfect,” he growls, pulling the ends of his hair. “You would’ve found her, blamed Blackie and I would’ve been cleared of both deaths, but you had to go fuck it all up.”

  Hearing his plan and knowing he planned to kill Layla sends me into a fit of rage. Desperation claws at me as I use the little strength I have to lift my legs and
try to kick him. Screaming out in pain, I miss as he laughs sadistically.

  “Nice try,” he cheers.

  “I’m going to fucking end you,” I spit.

  “Sorry, Pipe, that’s where you’re wrong,” he croons as he stares at his phone in anticipation. “I’m going to end you and your brother Blackie is going to take the rap,” he continues. “You fucked my plans and now you’re the one who dies. I hope Jack Parrish is ready to bury another body and send one more to prison. How do you think the crazy fuck will manage without his right hand and the man who calms the mania inside his head?”

  And there it is.

  The moment of truth.

  This game rides on one thing and one thing only.

  One man.

  This game rides on the Bulldog.

  I can only hope he’s sane enough to figure out Brantley is playing Blackie.

  Otherwise today is the day I die.

  Chapter Forty

  I’ve lived more in the last thirty years than most live their entire life, and more often than not I’ve contemplated checking out. I listen to that bitch inside my head, that treacherous maker of mine who sinks her claws into me every now and again, reminding me I should be dead. She whispers in my ear and entices me with all the ways I can end it.

  Put the gun in your mouth and pull the trigger.

  Jump off the Verrazano Bridge.

  Hang yourself from the ceiling fan.

  Then something happens that makes me realize my time here isn’t finished. There are still people who need Jack Parrish in their life. Knowing that, I fight with my mind to sustain another day. I say day because each one is a struggle and the next one is not guaranteed.

  I like to think I’ll live a long life or at least long enough to walk my girl down the aisle and see her hold her firstborn in her arms. I’d also like to see my new boy grow into a man but that’s not likely. I can quit smoking, go for my yearly physical, hell, I can even take one of those daily vitamins Reina is always going on about, but if I don’t get a handle on my mind then none of that will matter. I’m not a man who fears much but I’m petrified of losing my battle with manic depression.

  Should I lose my mind completely, what happens to all these people?

  All these people I swore to protect.

  The people who are property of Parrish.

  What happens to them?

  Pipe’s face flashes before me, reminding me of all the times he’s had my back. Times when I wanted to give up but he forced me to push through the crazy and be the leader my club needed.

  Next, my thoughts wander to Blackie. More than a brother, he is the man who is meant to spend the rest of his life loving my daughter. He’s the man who will take care of her when I’m gone.

  Together, Pipe and Blackie are the legacy I leave behind. For when the crazy finally wins me over, it will be Blackie who takes the gavel. He’ll need someone in his ear, someone strong with old school values. Someone like Pipe will help him rule this empire, wrangle in the mayhem and drive the club forward. With both of them MIA, this club doesn’t stand a chance, I don’t stand a chance, and everyone I’m responsible for are all at risk. Glancing over my shoulder, through the living room window, I take in all the people who for the last twelve hours have been sitting around Wolf’s house. Some don’t blink an eye at lock downs. They’ve had their share of the sinister world we live in, they’ve drunk from Satan’s cup and this is second nature to them.

  Then there is the new blood, people like Layla and her kids who have no idea what to expect. They don’t know what it means to be mine. Like the many before her, Pipe’s old lady thinks I’m crazy. Which is a fair assumption. However, as mentally deranged as I might be, and as hopeless as I feel, I still want to show her the way. Just as I’ve proved to all the others who doubted me, I want to prove to Layla that the Satan’s Knights always prevail. I want to watch her eyes shine just as bright as Gina’s did when I visited her after her attack. I can envision her thanking me just as Celeste did when I brought home her little girl. And like Ally learned what it meant to be property of Parrish, I want to teach Layla too.

  “Jack?”

  Turning my head, I stare at Wolf and Riggs.

  “What’s going on?” Wolf asks, jutting his chin.

  “You ever wonder about the end,” I ask, watching as Riggs’ jaw clenches and his nostrils flare with anger.”

  “Is this about that fucking pencil dick motherfucker?” Riggs growls as he lifts his hand and points a finger at me “Don’t let Brantley get in your head. You hear me, Parrish? He doesn’t get to bring us down. We’re going to find where he took Pipe, and when we do that motherfucker is mine. I’m putting the fucking bullet in his head, and depending on how I feel I might shoot his dick off too.”

  Wolf being the more levelheaded of the two stares at me, trying to read my mind. A wasted effort but it doesn’t stop him from trying. He’s a loyal motherfucker too. He’s the glue that keeps us all together on a Sunday. The sick fuck who doesn’t think twice before mortgaging his house for a brother in need.

  “What’s going on, Parrish?” he asks again.

  “Nothing,” I assure him. Stepping forward, I grip one shoulder and pat his other arm. “It’s all good, brother,” I add.

  He shakes his head.

  “No,” he growls. “I know that look and I’m telling you it’s not happening, Parrish.”

  “Someone want to fill me in?” Riggs mutters.

  “This son of a bitch thinks he’s going off on his own to deal with this crazy fuck,” Wolf explains, pulling away from me. “Not fucking happening.”

  “It’s been hours and Brantley hasn’t reached out,” I reply. “I don’t know where to start looking for Pipe and no one has been able to get in touch with Blackie.”

  “Well, sitting around scratching our balls isn’t going to make them magically appear,” Wolf growls. “Maybe it’s time we roll out of here and put these cops to shame. We’ll find Brantley before them and the mayor will give us the key to the city.”

  “I’m with Wolf on this one,” Riggs chimes in. “I’ve had enough of this shithead. It’s time to smoke him the fuck out and move on with our lives. Wait, no, if we smoke him out then we won’t get the key to the city, right?”

  “We won’t roll wide,” Wolf continues, ignoring Riggs’ antics as he tries to reel me back from the edge of insanity. “We do this old school. We leave Bas, Needles and the nomads here with the women and the three of us ride,” he says, pointing between me, him and Riggs. “It’s not up for a vote.”

  “Like the three amigos?” Riggs asks

  “More like the three stooges, kid,” Wolf grunts.

  “Not an option,” I argue. “I’m riding blind here and I won’t take you two for the ride. If anyone is gonna get buried it’s gonna to be me.”

  “Kitten knows I want to be cremated so I’m good to go,” Riggs says, rubbing his hands together.

  “Parrish,” Wolf calls, dragging my attention back to him. “We’re doing this together.”

  Every minute wasted arguing with them is another Brantley gets the upper hand. It’s another minute we leave Pipe at his mercy. Not willing to let the cocksucker take more than he has, I nod curtly.

  “Fine,” I mutter. “We’ll comb the city from borough to borough until we bring Pipe back and find Blackie,” I state before glancing back at the window. “Say your goodbyes.”

  Following orders, they hustle into the house. We lie through our teeth, telling everyone we’re going to the police station to see if there is any word on Brantley. We promise we’ll be back in no time.

  I kiss Reina goodbye.

  I hold my precious boy one final time and wish him a beautiful life.

  I kiss my daughter and pray her mind goes easy on her.

  While I wait for Wolf and Riggs to finish their goodbyes, I instruct the rest of the club to hang tight and keep everyone safe. Then I turn and watch my originals lay it all down to ride with me.
<
br />   Riggs swings his boy in the air and showers him with kisses. He tells him to always take the detours in life before turning to his precious Kitten. He makes a big show of kissing her and promises to return. He doesn’t believe he will because he kisses his mother-in-law goodbye too. Wolf huddles close to his three sons and though I can’t hear him, I know he’s imparting words of wisdom.

  Once they’re finished the three us walk out the front door never expecting to return. Our boots shuffle down the steps as we make our way toward our bikes. Straddling my Harley, I tie a bandanna around my head before throwing up my kickstand. To my right, Wolf pulls out his chain and lifts the gold crucifix to his lips before making the sign of the cross. On my left, Riggs fits his sunglasses to his face with one hand and points up to the sky with the other, asking Bones to guide him.

  The originals are ready to ride.

  But first we need to make one stop.

  Leading them, I peel away from Wolf’s house and take them on an unexpected detour. It’s time for Satan to have a sit down with God. Pulling up in front of Regina Pacis Church, I turn to the guys and take in their bewildered expressions. Killing my engine, I signal for them to do the same. Staring up at the church looking frightened, Riggs hesitates.

  Not Wolf though. It’s feeding time at the zoo and the animal needs a snack. He’s probably conjuring a plan on how to steal the Eucharist.

  “Make it right with the man upstairs,” I tell them. “Ask him to forgive you and welcome you into his kingdom,” I order as we climb the steps of the church.

  “Man, isn’t it a little late for that?” Riggs probes.

  “It’s never too late to find your faith,” I reply as I walk into the house of the Lord. Dipping my hand in the fountain of holy water, I bless myself and urge my brothers to do the same.

  Wolf dips his fingers in the water and makes the sign of the cross. Turning to Riggs, I expect him to do the same but he shakes his head defiantly.

  “I’m not sticking my hand in there, man,” he whispers harshly. “The church will fall down.”

  “Take the holy water, kid,” Wolf growls, grabbing his hand and shoving it into the fountain.