Raising Riker (Hells Saints MC)

by Paula Marinaro

  “Drummer offed himself, boss.” Riker looked at him in confusion. “Why the hell am I running?”

  “Because the last thing you need is to be caught up in this kind of shit. They’re gonna want a full investigation and you covered with chunks of Drummer’s skull is gonna raise some eyebrows. Now get the fuck outa here.”

  Riker had just cleared the utility road when he looked back and saw the ambulance crest the hill to the compound.

  Gia was all dressed up and pacing the lawn in the back section of Sacred Heart Church. Father Mike had done his part in Haiti and had returned the week before just in time to baptize Rourke. Gia’s mother, Audrina, and her husband had flown in a few weeks ago to meet their new grandson and help arrange the christening. Because Gia and Riker’s wedding had broken tradition in like a zillion ways, Gia had talked Riker into letting her mom plan a huge baptismal celebration.

  God help her.

  Audrina was never happier or more in her element than she was when planning a big family event. Gia and Audrina had butted heads over just about everything from menu to flowers until Audrina had broken down in a rare show of tears and confessed to feeling left behind in the most important moments of her daughter’s life.

  In a surprising show of sentimentality, Audrina cried ugly over having missed both the wedding of her only daughter and the birth of her only grandchild. Not to mention the guilt of being unreachable during Gia’s fight for life.

  In the end, to her mother’s delighted surprise, Gia caved in and gave Audrina her way. It just wasn’t worth the trouble and besides Gia had a lot of other things on her mind. She had recently read in a magazine article that no matter how hard you try, that the overwhelming odds show that a woman is most likely to have the same kind of relationship with her daughter that she had with her own mother.

  Gia prayed every night that this next child would be a boy.

  She put her hand over her tummy protectively and frowned. Not that she wasn’t pleased. It was just that Rourke was still so small, she couldn’t imagine having another baby so soon. Another unplanned pregnancy. Gia didn’t know how this kept happening!

  What? You don’t know how this keeps happening? Well, of course you know how this happened. You learned how it happens in sixth grade health class, you idiot! Do you have any idea how many millions of ways there out there to prevent pregnancy? It’s the 21st century for heaven’s sake. Besides you and Riker continue to fuck like hormonal teenagers with no thought to planning or consequences! What the hell did you… Gia’s inner self continued to chide her.

  “Oh, shut up!” She muttered back with a frown.

  “Gia? Is that you walking all over my new grass seed and muttering?” Father Mike called out with an amused smile. “You’re early. The baptismal isn’t scheduled for another hour yet

  Gia looked down to see the obviously freshly seeded loam and the sign that said; Please stay off the grass.

  See? Just like I told you…no thought to your actions that inner voice had to have the last word.

  “I said, shut up!” Gia scolded.

  Father Mike raised an eyebrow.

  Gia shook her head and blurted out in horror. “No, Father! I didn’t mean you. I was just talking to myself. And I’m sorry for stepping on your grass. I didn’t see the sign.”

  Father Mike sat down and patted the wooden bench. “Come sit, and tell me what’s on your mind, Gia.”

  “I want Riker to come to confession and he won’t, so I need you to tell him he has to.” Gia blurted out as she plopped down next to the aged priest.

  “Oh, I see.” Father Michael nodded. “And why do you think it’s important that Riker come to confession, Gia?”

  “Because, I believe his soul may be in mortal danger.” Gia whispered.

  “Mortal danger?” Father Michael nodded again. “And what makes you think that?”

  “Isn’t that the point of confession, Father Mike?” Gia said with exasperation. “Isn’t he supposed to be the one to tell you that?”

  The corner of Father Michael’s mouth lifted just a little. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

  “Here’s an idea. Let’s ask him.”

  When the voice rumbled out from behind them, Gia squeaked and jumped up from the bench.

  “How do you do that?” She glared at him. “How do you manage to sneak up on me like that?”

  “My woman wants me to give confession? Here’s one for you.” Riker turned to Father Mike and winked. “I have super powers.”

  “Well at least you’re confessing to something.” Gia grumbled. Then she raised an eyebrow “Where’s Rourke?”

  “He’s with Audrina. She came by early to drop off some last minute stuff for the christening, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to see what you were up to.”

  “What I’m up to is having a private conversation with my spiritual advisor.” She lifted her nose in the air.

  Riker shook his head and he grinned. Then he held out his hand, “Good to see you, Father.”

  “You too, Riker.” The priest returned the handshake with a smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it seems you two have some talking to do.”

  “Gia, really? What are you doing here?” Riker sat down next to his wife.

  “I want you to go to confession!”

  “No shit? It’s funny because you nagging me about it 24/7 didn’t give me a clue. Like I told you, I had enough of that shit when I was a kid. Every Thursday at four o’clock my ma would march us down to see Father O’Malley. We used to go so often I used to have to make shit up.”

  “Well, you won’t have to make shit up now!” Gia shot out.

  Riker narrowed his eyes at her. “Gia, you’ve been looking at me like I have two heads for a couple of weeks now. I keep asking you what’s wrong and you won’t say, now I find you telling the priest you’re worried for my…how the hell did you put it?”

  “Immortal soul.” Gia told him.

  “Wow, that’s heavy. What the hell do you think I’ve done to put my immortal soul at risk? Charge too much for a carburetor?” Riker laughed.

  “Don’t laugh at me!”

  “I’m laughing at you because you’re being fucking ridiculous.”

  Gia looked all around her and then leaned in like she was giving away government secrets. “You killed that man! I know you did it for me, because of what he did to me, the accident and all. I understand why you did it, Riker, I do. And honestly, god forgive me, I am happy that man is dead. But murder is a mortal sin and I don’t want you going to hell for me!”

  Riker shot up off the bench. “Gia, what the fuck are you talking about?”

  Two nuns out for a mid- morning stroll raised their eyebrows as they walked serenely by.

  “You killed that man.”

  “What man?”

  “Drummer.” Gia sniffed. “And you did it for me, and now I’m gonna be the reason that you go to hell.”

  “Is that what’s got you pacing the floor and working those rosary beads every day at the crack of dawn? Gia are you praying for me so I don’t go to hell?” Riker ran a hand through his hair.

  “Well, technically I’m praying for both of us, I don’t want to go to hell either.” Gia bit her bottom lip. “Riker, the Saints? La Familia? I know that the doctrines we follow and the enemies we make sometimes move us in a direction to take actions that aren’t always lawful or moral. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about the moral consequences or about damnation. Especially, since I’ve gone to Catholic school my whole life. Can you imagine being raised by Cosa Nostra and having the ten commandments drilled into your head daily? Thou shall not kill is a big one, Riker.”

  “Yeah, Gia…altar boy.” Riker pointed to himself. “Remember?”

  “Altar boy who broke into the vestry on a weekly basis and drank the wine and gobbled down the holy eucharist as a chaser! Not sure that counts, Riker.”

  “They’re just wafers until they’re blessed.” He retorted.

&nb
sp; “Still, the fact remains.”

  “Let’s get back to my eternal damnation.” Riker rubbed his jaw in frustration.

  “I told you about Drummer. Then pow, he’s dead.”

  Riker looked at her incredulously.

  “Then pow, he’s dead because he put a gun under his chin and blew out his brains. Drummer was a weak man with a bad fucking temper and an evil heart.” Riker told her. “He tried to kill my wife and unborn son, he was responsible for the death of a seventeen year old kid, he beat and cut up a woman because she didn’t want to take his dick it up the ass, and he betrayed his club by becoming an informant. Death was too fucking good for Drummer, I wouldn’t have given him that out, babe.” Riker told her.

  “So, you didn’t kill him?” Gia eyed her husband with a mixture of relief and lingering suspicion. “Swear you’re telling the truth?”

  “No, Gia I didn’t kill him.” Riker put his arm around her and Gia laid her head on his shoulder.

  “You didn’t swear.”

  “Yeah, babe, I swear. But you have to promise me something too. Try and relax. You’re strung tighter than a drum lately. Everything is fine.”

  “I was seriously crying over a cereal commercial this morning.” She nodded in agreement. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.”

  “You been missing your man, that’s what’s wrong with you.” When Riker tilted her chin and pressed his lips to hers, it made Gia’s toes curl.

  “Hey, you two gonna sit out there and swap spit like horny teenagers all morning? Riker, I need your help moving some of these tables so get your ass in here, now!” Prosper bellowed out from across the churchyard lawn.

  Gia pouted. “Whose decision was it to make that, cranky, bossy, brute, Rourke’s godfather, anyway?”

  “Yours.” Riker smirked.

  The guests milled around the outside of the church yard as they waited for the tolling of the bells. The black iron fence surrounding the large stone church was festooned with swags of majestic white roses, delicate lily of the valley, snowy white mums, and bright green ivy. Two large wreaths of ice blue hydrangea hung on the massive wooden doors. The day was unseasonably warm, and the bright sunshine beat down on a dramatic, sail cloth tent. A display of large glass dispensers held a variety of ice cold, fruit infused waters⸺ tart lemon, dark cherry, bright melon and sweet pineapple were surrounded by small orchard fruit tarts. Huge carafes of honeyed teas, and rich dark coffee were placed on side boards filled with marzipan covered cake slices, puffed pastry and petite fours. Waiters roamed the yard and offered up trays of buttered crab, succulent lobster, and smoked salmon.

  Gia watched on with a smile as Riker and Audrina shared a moment together showing off Rourke to the guests. Pauli, Audrina’s husband, winked at Gia from across the room. Gianni stood like a proud Nonno shaking hands and accepting thick envelopes on behalf of his tiny grand-nephew.

  As she looked around, Gia had to admit that every detail of Rourke’s christening had been lovingly executed. As always, she found herself in awe of her mother’s influence. The guest list read like a cross section of Vogue, the Wall Street Journal, and Who’s Who of the Criminally Connected.

  There were so very many interesting and impressive guests that it was odd that he caught Gia’s eye. A heavyset man outfitted in carpenter’s pants and a short sleeved, rough cotton shirt stood near the stone steps of the cathedral. His appearance was nothing out of the ordinary and marked him as one of the church groundskeepers. But it was the expression of extreme malice on the man’s face that caught Gia’s eye. What on earth could have enraged him so? Gia quickly scanned the area expecting to find an upturned trash bin, a few spilled water pitchers, or something—anything that would explain the look of fury on the worker’s face. But there was nothing amiss. Not that Gia could see anyway.

  “Come on, honey. We need to go into the church now.” Riker and the baby were suddenly by her side. Gia gathered Rourke back into her arms and headed with her husband into the church. The angry- looking grounds- keeper totally forgotten.

  The former correctional officer, Fred Durants, looked at his watch and thought about time.

  Time, Fat Freddy decided, was a funny thing. It didn’t discriminate between the good and the bad.

  The rich or the poor.

  The sane or the insane.

  It simply moved forward.

  It took nine months to create human life.

  And done right, it only took nine seconds to end it.

  Fat Freddy planned on doing it right.

  “What name do you give this child?” Father Mike asked the happy parents.

  Riker’s response was loud, proud and filled with enthusiasm, “Rourke Joseph!”

  The new godparents, Pinky and Prosper smiled broadly at each other.

  “And what do you ask of the church?”

  “Baptism.” Gia and Riker responded.

  Then Father Mike turned to Pinky and Prosper. “Are you ready to help the parents in their duty as Christian god parents?”

  “We are.”

  “Do you reject Satan?”

  “We do.”

  “And all his works?”

  “We do.”

  Ratatatatatat

  The sacrament was interrupted by the loud popping sound of what strangely sounded like gunfire. That sound was immediately followed by several loud screams as the guests began to pour out from the church pews and run towards the exit signs.

  “Riker what’s happening?” Gia looked at him in alarm.

  “Get down!” Riker pushed her and the baby down behind the large baptismal font. Pinky hit the ground with Prosper on top of her. Prosper looked at Riker and said in a low growl “Tell me your holding.”

  Riker shook his head. “In a church? Fuck no!”

  “Somebody the hell is.”

  “The shots sound like their coming from the front.” Riker whispered urgently, “Let’s get the women out through the back.”

  “Father Mike?”

  “Si sto bene. I got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.” Father Mike sat slumped against the altar. He lifted his hand slowly toward them and made the sign of the cross Andare Con Dio. Do not wait for me, go quickly.” He whispered. “Go!”

  Riker could barely hear him above the sound of screaming and continuous, rapid gunfire.

  “Gia, give me Rourke, honey. Give me the baby!” Riker commanded his wife as he fought to keep the panic out of his voice. He was not surprised to have to pry his wife’s hand from their child. Riker tucked the infant up against his chest. Then he looked at Prosper “On three, we’re gonna move them through to the door behind the altar. There’s a stairway that leads to the bell tower. They’ll be safe there.”

  “On three.” Prosper nodded.

  Riker turned to Gia. “Hold on to my hand. Pinky? You follow right behind Gia. Prosper, you’re good to bring up the back. Just remember stay low. You ready? One, two, three.”

  They ran quickly towards the back of the altar as the panicked screams of over two hundred people reverberated through the air and bounced off the church walls. Once they had cleared the doorway Prosper closed the door firmly against the sound. Riker gently but quickly handed the baby back to Gia while Prosper felt along the wall in the windowless narrow passage. “Got it!” He whispered loudly when a fluorescent light flooded the top of the staircase.

  Riker moved the women towards the light. “There’s a fire door on the second level. It leads to the stairwell to the tower. There’s a large utility closet on the landing. They keep all the master keys in a cupboard to the left of it. They’re all marked. Take the key to the closet and lock yourselves in. Turn the volume off your phone but keep it on. Don’t open that goddamn door until you hear from me.” Then Riker kissed his wife and son.

  “No! Don’t go back out there. Riker don’t go. Stay with us! Don’t go!” Gia pleaded, but Riker had followed Prosper out the door and they were already gone.

  “Pinky, what are
we going to do?" Gia whispered mournfully.

  “Exactly what Riker just told us to do, honey. Now let’s start up those stairs.”

  The sight that met the two men was pure pandemonium

  Flashes of light and the staccato sound of rapid firing split the air as large chunks of plaster and full sheets of shattered stain glass window fell over the fleeing and panicked guests.

  “How many shooters we got?” Riker ran towards Diego.

  “I can’t tell yet. Shots are coming too fast. Could be a few, could be one with an arsenal.” Diego shouted back.

  As sprays of blood were splattering out everywhere, Riker had one thought and one thought only. To stop the carnage. To get to the shooter or shooters before they could do any more damage.

  Over two hundred people were trying to squeeze through a few single exits. Riker saw brother after brother helping the very young and very old. Another group of Saints raced towards the sound of gunfire. The Saints were a pack and when threatened they worked together intrinsically. Some held back, some cleared the way, and some ran forward into the storm.

  Riker jumped over pews and plowed through everyone in his way as he tried to reach the front of the church. Suddenly another round of shots fired out and the man next to Riker fell to the floor. The woman beside him did a sort of macabre puppet on a string dance as a half dozen bullets tore through her body. The smell of rich iron filled Riker’s senses and he almost slipped on all the blood.

  “Who is shooting? Who the fuck is shooting?” Riker bellowed out into the crowd.

  In his peripheral vision, Riker saw a small figure raise up from a corner in the room. He turned to see a boy of about nine or ten crouched down on the floor all alone. Somehow in the fray he must have gotten separated from his family. His hand was shaking, but he stood up bravely and pointed towards the choir balcony.

  “He’s up there. He’s shooting at everybody!” As the boy cried out, the shooter turned and aimed straight at the kid. Just then Jules ran between the boy and the shooter. In one quick athletic motion, he managed to sweep the boy into his arms and shove him behind one of the thick Corinthian columns.