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“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 deadbecause 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 thathecaught 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—anythingthat 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.
