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Riker always started the conversation the same way—with things that he thought would interest his dad. The latest baseball or football scores, who won the latest boxing match, and the rise and fall of gas prices. Then next came any and all gossip that managed to filter its way through from the old neighborhood.
“The Miami Dolphins, by some miracle, made it to a wild card, but everyone knows how that’ll end. And you know the Big B and his boys always seem to pull it out of their ass for the win in the last twenty- three seconds. So, it’s no fucking surprise that the Patriots are on track to play in the Super Bowl again. Boston fans are loving it, but everyone else is getting a little sick of that New England franchise.”
Riker took a long pull on his smoke, then continued. “Everything on Lincoln Road has been pretty quiet lately. Oh, except that I ran into Tommy Brewster last week and he told me that Mrs. Flanagan fell down her stairs about a month ago and broke her hip. Her son, Kevin, remember him? That low life piece of shit? He put her in a nursing home straight from the hospital. And now the jerk-off is trying to sell the house right from under her. Tommy told me that he saw Kevin in Mrs. Flanagan’s front yard the day the sale sign went up and, Dad, you know how Tommy feels about Mrs. Flannagan. She was like a mother to Tommy and his brothers after Mrs. Brewster passed on. He’s been going to the nursing home every day to visit her. When he found out about that sign, he beat the shit out of Kevin. Pansy-ass Kevin called the cops and lucky for Tommy, Jimmy O’Hearn answered the call and that took care of that. Now that clown-ass Kevin is back in California and every time the realtor puts a sign up, Tommy takes it back down. He figures Jimmy is gonna have to cite him for it sooner or later but that hasn’t happened yet. You know how we all thought Jimmy was gonna turn into a full-on prick once he wore the badge? Well that ain’t happened yet either and it don’t look like it’s gonna.”
Riker took another long pull on the smoke and rubbed his jaw. “Me? I’m doing okay, all in all. Steady work, feeling good, even managed to put a few bucks in the bank. Got myself in a situation though. Not with the law or anything, Pop. I know you were worried about that when I joined the club and I ain’t saying there’s never any illegal shit happening… well, anyway, that has nothing to do with this.”
Riker let out a long sigh and pulled another smoke out of his cut. Then he put one on top of the granite stone and lit the other one up. “There’s just no easy way to say this. There was this girl… this woman…and there was this party. One thing led to a fucking other and… uh…and uh…well, I guess you could say she’s…uh… we’re …uh.” Riker scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Pop, there’s gonna be a kid. Thing is, it was only that one night…and we don’t really know each other real well, but I’m gonna have to do the right thing. Nah, scratch that, Iwantto do the right thing. The girl— her name is Gia—she’s pretty cool. I don’t love her — shit, I don’t even know her. But I like her. She’s pretty and smart and funnier than hell. I’m a grown ass man and it’s probably time I did my part to add to the Devlin clan, anyway. I can’t even begin to tell you how worried I am about messing this up.” Riker straightened up and ran a hand through his hair. “I have no fucking idea how to raise a kid and I’m pretty damn sure that Gia doesn’t have a clue either.”
It was only a few days later that Riker found himself sitting in the Saints meeting room. He and the rest of the brothers listened in rapt attention while Prosper scowled and drove his point home.
“Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying to turn the other cheek or any of that other kind of happy horseshit, but sometimes it’s prudent to walk away. Just walk the fuck away. Better yet, for the time being, I don’t even want you boys to put yourself in that kind of position. If you’re at a bar at closing time, you gotta know that anybody still left there is looking for a good fuck or a good fight.”
Nods and mutters of agreement filled the room. Prosper waited a minute then continued.
“You all know the situation with Judge Carmichael over in Clear Ridge. She’s had a hard on for the club ever since we got Jules cleared of all those felony charges.”
Jules looked around the room and said in way of apology. “Sorry about that boys. I feel like shit to be the one to put the club on Carmichael’s radar.”
Prosper dismissed Jules’s words with a wave of his hand. “Kinda thing happens to all of us. No worries. Under normal circumstances, you know I wouldn’t give two craps, and I make a point of not overstepping. But the bitch has just been appointed to the County Court Circuit and that ain’t good. Means she will have wider jurisdiction. I tried to stop that from happening, but I couldn’t do that. And me not being able to get something done in my own backyard? That don’t bode fucking well. It means that Judge Carmichael has some pretty big connections of her own. Connections that even the club couldn’t influence. Not yet, anyway. I’ve been working on it, but until I make that happen, I want this club and everyone in it to become fucking choirboys. Am I making myself clear?”
Nods of understanding circled the room.
“Now on to happier matters. Riker, you wanna step on up here? We hear that you and Gia tied the knot at City Hall today. This is just a little something from the club to say congratulations.”
The room broke out in cheers and applause.
Riker was honestly touched, and his thanks was sincere. “Thanks guys. Not sure how the hell I got here, but nice to know you boys will be taking this ride along with me.”
“We got your six, brother. As long as it don’t involve changing any crapped up diapers!” Gunner called out from the back of the room.
The room was filled with good natured laughter and the feeling of brotherhood.
“Meeting adjourned!” Prosper brought the gavel down hard. As everyone started shuffling out, Riker felt a hard hand land on his shoulder.
“You wanna hang back a minute?” Prosper asked but it wasn’t a question.
“Sure, boss.” Riker stopped and turned around. Considering the topic of today’s meeting, Riker was wondering if Prosper was gonna chew his ass out.
Riker squared his shoulders. “I just want you to know that I heard what you said about laying off the bar fights, and I’m all over it. Boss, I’m gonna come clean here and tell you that was a small situation a couple of weeks ago. Found myself swapping fists with a couple of assholes, but I made sure that nothing about that was gonna land anywhere near the club.”
Prosper snorted. “Not much happens around here, I don’t know about, brother. It’s all good. Just remember what I said about that twat Carmichael, she ain’t one to fuck with. But that’s not why I held you back.”
Riker nodded. “So, what’s going on, then. Something I can do for the club?”
Prosper shook his head. “Just wanting to know how’s it going?”
“You mean with me and Gia?” Riker let out a long sigh. “Honestly, boss, I don’t fucking know. We went to city hall as soon as she got herself cleared of the hospital and got hitched. I dropped her off and came here.”
“And what about Gianni?”
“What about him?”
“He still doesn’t know? You know those fucking Italians—you didn’t think to fill him in? I mean, you didn’t have to go in to details but…” Prosper shrugged.
“Well, I don’t know about the Italians, but the Irish? We don’t need permission from nobody for nothing.” Riker shot back. “So, if you’re asking me if I contacted the mob boss for permission to marry his niece—after I already knocked her up? Nah. I think I’m good.”
“Fair enough.” Prosper nodded.
