“My father left my mother high and dry, turned his back on his kids and never gave us a second thought. You turned your back on your family and they show up on your doorstep anyway,” I counter. “Don’t know your folks but that shit has to count for something.”
“It counts for nothing. They heard they got a grandkid and are looking for him to rule their oil empire.”
“Not a bad gig,” I argue. “It could be worse. Eric could wind up sitting in a truck with Luca both of them locked and loaded looking to wreak havoc on the warden of a federal prison.”
“Shit, imagine that,” he laughs.
“Let’s not, let’s hope those two boys are more like their mamas than us,” I say. “Call your old man, Riggs. Look at what we’re doing, think about why we’re tailing this fuck home. Life’s too short for regrets, man.”
“You left the mob and became a philosopher. I can’t wait to see the A&E documentary they do on your ass,” he quips, tipping his chin to the car in front of us as it rolls to a stop at a red light. “Let’s get this motherfucker,” he adds, reaching for the door handle.
I nod watching as he pulls a ski mask over his face and jumps out of the car. Riggs runs around the front of my truck and right up to the driver of the sedan, pulling the door open as he cocks his gun straight at the warden of Otisville. He pushes him into the passenger seat and climbs into the front seat, speeding through the red light with me right behind him.
My phone rings inside my pocket and I drive with one hand to retrieve it.
“Mike, now’s really not a good time,” I growl, trying to keep up with Riggs as he swerves in and out of traffic with his gun aimed at the warden. “Jesus,” I hiss. I got saddled with two pains in the ass brothers-in-law.
“Forget the dance,” he says quickly. “Get me a priest.”
I told Mike about my plan this morning and asked him if there was anything I should add to my list of demands. He only had one request; that his girl gets to dance with her dad one last time.
“Priest,” I mutter as Riggs pulls the sedan down a deserted ally. “Got it. Need to hang up now, Mike,” I rushed, ending the call and grabbing my piece from the glove box. I pull the safety back and get out of the truck. I leave the engine running so we can make a clean break.
For a split second I wonder why Mike gave a fuck if Vic was read his last rights, but as quickly as the thought crossed my mind it disappears. Riggs pulls the warden out of the car, dragging him by his feet onto the asphalt.
“Do you have any idea how much fucking trouble you’re going to be in?” The warden spits at Riggs.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re going to be in when I grab the piece of ass you’ve been hiding and bring her straight to your unsuspecting wife?” Riggs fires back. “Now shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in your ass.”
“What do you want? I’ll give you whatever cash I have. Take my watch, it’s a presidential Rolex,” the warden cries.
Riggs lifts the warden’s wrist and inspects the expensive arm candy he was sporting.
“Pretty nice watch for a man on the state’s payroll,” Riggs comments, dropping his hand before slamming his boot against the man’s chest, keeping his gun aimed at the warden. “I bet I know how you can afford that sweet watch and how you pay the mortgage on the fancy house you keep your wife in or the dope apartment you stash your whore in on the Upper East Side.”
I step into the warden’s view, kneeling beside him so he can get a better look at my face, my blue eyes pierce him like daggers.
“Warden, you remember me don’t you?”
His eyes flicker before narrowing as he swallows hard.
“Bianci, inmate number two-six-eight-three-five-nine,” he recites.
The motherfucker had the memory of an elephant, reciting my inmate number without error. That’s right, me and warden Valez go way back. Back to the days when I was incarcerated.
Back in the day, Vic couldn’t afford to send someone inside with me, with Val murdered and his organization vulnerable he needed all his manpower on the streets alongside him. He may have thrown my ass in jail without regard for the life I was leaving behind but he kept me alive. He greased Valez’s palm to ensure my safety while I was locked up, a fact I didn’t discover until recently. I was untouchable while I was in jail and no rival organization stood a shot of getting close to me.
If he really wanted me out of his daughter’s life all he had to do was squash his deal with Valez and the G-Man’s men could’ve taken me down. Yet here I am, free and married to his daughter.
Vic did that for me.
Now this one was for him.
“That’s right,” I said. “Now, I want you to listen carefully. My man over here he’s got a slippery finger and some daddy issues he’s looking to unleash.”
“What the fuck man?” Riggs says, smacking me upside the head with the heel of his gun.
“See? He’s a loose fucking canon. It’d be a shame if he shot you before you had a chance to do as I say.”
“Look, I’ve done my best for Pastore while he’s been in my prison.”