The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(79)

She knew about the transfer, she knew what her husband was going to do, we all did, but none of us expected this. I figured it would be quiet, like when he whacked Jimmy inside Otisville, not a fucking media frenzy. I didn’t think we’d be sitting here watching the news waiting for a reporter to declare him dead or alive.

Grace stood, but before she could make a move, Nikki stood in front of her and grabbed her hands.

“Let go,” Grace orders. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Nikki argues as Adrianna walks into the living room with the phone glued to her ear.

“Okay, thank you,” she says before disconnecting the call. “That was daddy’s lawyer,” she announces to the room. “He still hasn’t heard anything, but he promises to call as soon as he does.”

“So what’re we supposed to do until then? Sit here like a bunch of idiots waiting for some stiff in a suit to call us and let us know if we call the funeral home or not?” Gina shouts.

“You really think that’s helping?” Mike fires back.

“Nothing is helping! We’re sitting here while the media plays games with us,” she argues back. “My ninety-five-year-old mother has to watch this shit and wonder if her son is dead.”

“Take her upstairs if it’s too much for you people,” Nikki sneers.

“Princess—”

“No, Mikey. Everyone wants to feel some kind of way but they forget we’re his family too.” She averts her eyes to her aunt. “That’s my mother’s husband, our father,” she adds, pointing between her and her sister. “And while Nana may be upset so are we, we’re the ones who will call a funeral director—not you.”

“No one’s calling anyone,” I interrupt. “You all need to have faith in the man who’s hung onto life this long,” I clip, lifting my head as the doorbell rings. “Think about Vic, do any of you really think for one second he will go down like this? At the mercy of another man?” I shake my head. “Have faith in the man who only does things one way—his.”

I point a finger to Grace.

“You know better than anyone,” I remind her as I start for the door. It rings again as I pull it open and my sister throws her arms around my neck. I wrap my arms around her and turn my gaze to the leather clad man standing behind her.

“Any word on the big guy?” Riggs asks.

“No, and they’re all losing their shit in there,” I mutter, glancing over my shoulder.

“Have no fear, Riggsy is here,” he says, stepping around Lauren and raising his hands holding a box from the bakery.

“What’s he doing?” I question my sister.

“We brought cannoli’s.” She winks, taking my hand and pulling me into the house.

“How you doin’ ‘Mrs. Soprano’?” Riggs asks, bending down to take Grace’s hand and kisses her ring, mimicking a scene from The Godfather.

“Who’s this?” Gina curiously croons.

“She’s all yours man,” Mike says, getting the hell out of dodge.

Returning Lauren’s embrace, the phone Adrianna is holding rings, forcing them apart.

“It’s the lawyer,” she says glancing at the screen.

Noting the fear working across her features, I close the distance between us and take the phone from her trembling hand and swipe my thumb across the screen.

“It’s Bianci,” I answer.

“He’s alive.”

“And?”

“He did it.”

“How?”

“With a pair of scissors and apparently a riot.”

“Thank you,” I say, closing my eyes briefly.

“He’s in solitary. Give the media twenty minutes and that shit will be all over the news,” he sighs. “It’s over, that’s it, Bianci. Vic ain’t going to see the light of day anymore. The next call is the one we’re dreading.”

“I know.” I clear my throat, lifting my eyes to the room and the expectant glances of the people who loved Victor Pastore. “Thanks for calling,” I say, ending the call.

“Well?” Grace croaks.

“He’s alive.”

“Thank God,” she cries, grabbing a hold of her daughters and hugging them to her. “He’s alive,” she smiles, closing her eyes.

A phone rings; I glance at the one I’m holding not realizing the sound is coming from across the room. Riggs lifts his phone to his ear, walking toward the kitchen and away from everyone to take the call.

Mike turns the television on again and the scene outside the prison fills the screen. The SWAT team pulls correctional officers and medical personnel from the building before charging in with machine guns. It didn’t take twenty minutes for the media to get the information and the reporter’s voice booms over the images.

“We can now confirm that the G-Man is one of the casualties. Wait a minute,” he pauses, lifting his hand to the earpiece, he remains silent until his eyes widen and he tells the world what we already know. “We can also confirm that mob boss, Victor Pastore, is alive. I repeat, Victor Pastore is alive. However, we don’t know what started this riot here in Bennettsville or the cause of death of the G-Man.”

“Kitten, give me a kiss, I gotta’ go,” Riggs announces, tucking his phone into his cut before lifting his eyes to mine and tipping his chin. “You coming, Bianci, or what?”