The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(84)
He opens his mouth to speak but I lean into him, get in his face and shake my head.
“Nuh uh, boss. You don’t get a say. You do as you're told until I tell you otherwise. You want to be the boss then you need to learn what comes first in this world. You need to learn that without heart you ain’t worth shit. Your family is your heart and you keep them safe, Spinelli, you keep them fucking breathing or I’ll rip you from the streets and send you back to Miami,” I seethe. “Welcome to my city, Spinelli. If you’re a good boy, I’ll share it with you.”
I don’t give him a chance to argue, I don’t give him a chance to even respond. I want his actions not his words. Turning around, I grab Bianci’s elbow and shove him toward the truck.
“Your wife is going to kick my ass,” I mutter.
“Probably,” he agrees.
Not probably, Adrianna definitely will have my balls in a knot, that’s why Riggs was bringing his brother-in-law to the front door and I was staying in the truck.
Fuck that.
Chapter Thirty-Two
This blows.
I’ll say it again, standing here, staring at a fucking stone imagining my best friend is standing in front of me and not in a box six feet under. This fucking blows. I picture him leaning against the stone, his leather cut fitted to his upper body. Rolling a toothpick between his teeth, he crosses his arms against his chest and grills me with his eyes. I vividly see him in my mind shake his head, biting back a smug grin, everything about his demeanor says he is itching to tell me I’ve gotten myself into another fine mess. But the words never leave his mouth, just like they never did while he was here with me and not living within my head.
No matter how bizarre the situation he never laughed in my face, never so much as judged me. Instead, Bones worked through my shit with me. He talked to me, listened and asked questions. He didn’t give me the answers; he gave me his advice, put himself in my shoes and told me what he would do if he was in my situation.
“I fucking hate this,” I admit, pulling the baseball cap from my head to drag my fingers through my hair. “I hate that you’re not here. I need you to make sense of what the fuck is going on. I need you to help me figure out if I’m doing the right thing…for them. Because, I gotta tell you, brother, it doesn’t feel right. It don’t feel right fleeing town with Kitten and Eric. I’m supposed to trust the club to handle this shit but it should be me. I should be the one slaughtering anyone threatening my family. Fuck,” I growl, clenching my fist and punching the palm of my other hand. “I don’t even know how the fuck we’re involved in this shit. Why my family? Why are they the fucking bullseye? It made sense with Sun Wu, I fucked up but I don’t even know this gangbanger. They say it’s because hurting Lauren hurts the club and the Pastores, mainly Bianci. I suppose it makes sense.” I pause, shaking my head. “It’s amazing I used to laugh in the face of fear until that day, the day you went away, the day Eric was born and I almost lost both of them too. I can’t fucking lose them. I can’t go through that again, wondering if they’re going to make it or not, stand by helplessly as some mythical god decides if I’m worthy of having them in my life. No fucking way, man. I’m scared as fuck because you’re not here to jump in front of a bullet this time. This time it’s all on me to keep them safe. I know I need to own that shit. I know wherever the fuck you are you’re calling me a pussy right now and maybe I am. I’m fucking scared. What if I’m not quick enough? What if I unintentionally fuck something up, make a mistake and cost them their lives and me my heart.”
I bow my head, staring at the ink on my fingers.
“Do me a solid?” Raising my head, I stare at the headstone and clear my throat. “I will do everything in my power to keep Lauren and Eric safe, gonna make you real proud, brother.” I pause, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “But, if you could look out for them too, man, well, I’d appreciate it.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I fit the baseball cap back onto my head about to shove my hands into my pockets when my phone rings. I pull it out, not recognizing the number and accept the call.
“Talk to me,” I say, reaching out to run my fingers over the words carved into his stone, the same words tattooed to my hand.
“Son, I’m glad you called,” my old man’s voice booms in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. Fake ass shit.
This morning I called the number on the business card he left behind and when the call went to his voicemail, I hung up. Then I walked into Eric’s room, watched him sleep peacefully and fucking dialed my old man again, leaving a message the second time.
“Yeah, listen, why don’t we skip the pleasantries and all that bullshit,” I clip. “I got a proposition for you, old man. You like propositions don’t you?”
He doesn’t answer me right away and I struggle not to hang up on him.
“I’m listening,” he says finally, his voice laced with control as if he was talking to another one of his associates and not his estranged son.
“Time for you to prove if you and that Botox loving mother of mine are sincere,” I start, grimacing at the thought of bringing Lauren and Eric near these people. I remind myself of the alternative and continue. “I need to get out of town for a while. I don’t know how long but I need a safe place to bring Lauren and Eric.”