Page 109 of Parrish

“If you’re done with your interrogation, I’m going to go back in there and—“I ain’t running a daycare for delinquent bikers, Jack,” Wolf interrupts, slicing his eyes back to me. “We’re not here to check on you. If you didn’t fucking notice, Bas is back from the fact finding mission we sent him on,” he hisses, point a finger to the man who resembles a Viking.

The vein in his forehead bulges even more than it did when he first arrived, and I look over his shoulder at Bas.

“It ain’t good, boss,” he says, looking me straight in the eye.

“Well don’t just fucking stand there,” I shout. “Tell me what you fucking know.”

“The Sinaloa Cartel ain’t just looking to fuck with us. They’ve been fucking with my mother too.”

There is no love lost between Bas and his mother, Milly. She not only pinned him against his brother but also caused a rift between him and his old lady. When push came to shove, she came through for Bas and killed the man who was gunning for his girl, Mac and her son Ryder. Sergio Garcia was a major player in the Sinaloa Cartel, but Milly didn’t give a fuck and she didn’t stop there. After she thought she eliminated the threat against her grandson, she came to Brooklyn to tell Bas and Mac they were safe and wound up dropping two more bodies—both guys prominent members of Javier’s hit squad that he had sent to Bas’s house for insurance purposes. Milly thought Javier’s men were part of Garcia’s crew that had followed her to New York. Last I heard, she was arrested on three counts of murder and awaiting trial in Kentucky.

“What are you talking about?” I question, watching as Pipe cups Bas’ shoulder reassuringly. The gesture causes my gut to clench and I brace my hand on the counter in preparation for the next reveal.

“They got to her,” Bas chokes out.

His mother is a female federal penitentiary. I doubt Sergio’s guys are sniffing out pussy in there.

Narrowing my eyes, I push away from the counter and take a step closer to Bas.

“You’re going to have to give me more than that. Who got to her?”

“I don’t know if it’s Sergio’s gang retaliating or Javier’s but one of them has people on the inside. They fucking cut my mother,” he reveals. Clenching his jaw, he lifts his index finger and circles his face. “Took a blade to her face…she looks like a fucking monster.”

“Who did this an inmate?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around all he’s telling me.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t know. All she remembers is being in the shower. They got her from behind, grabbed her hair and slammed her face against the tiles. Knocked her out and broke her nose. Next thing she remembers, she’s waking up chained to the bed with her face looking like a road map. They’re moving her to another facility but in the meantime, they’re keeping her isolated from the general population.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, swiping a hand over my face. Going into this I knew we were no match for an organization this massive. My original plan was to reach out to Javier, strike a deal with the guns and have him set a meeting between me and Sergio. I thought I’d be able to sit down with Sergio and provide Bas’ family with protection. I never suspected the meeting to go so fucking bad or for these motherfuckers to declare war on us and I sure as fuck didn’t expect them to have women working for them too.

“I’m having a hard time picturing a woman cutting your mother,” I admit.

“Could’ve been a correction officer,” Bas offers. “But we got no proof.”

“The point is, we don’t know who retaliated against Milly,” Pipe asserts. “If it was Sergio’s guys or Javier’s. But if it’s Javier’s people who did this to her, then we gotta worry about them getting to Blackie too. He’s more accessible being locked up in Ryker’s than Milly is in a female penitentiary.”

Wolf turns his gaze to me.

“If we’re going to be at war with these motherfuckers, we can’t afford to send someone in there to protect him like we did last time. We gotta get him out and in the meantime, we gotta warn him.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” I ask, roughly combing my fingers through my hair.

“I don’t know,” Wolf grunts. “First, we get Schwartz in to see him and inform him of the risk. Then we need to put a little heat on the lawyer, get him to move this along somehow. Lord knows Blackie probably gave that cocky fuck more money than he deserves. Make him file a motion or some shit.”

“Yeah, it’s time Schwartz earns those fancy fucking shoes of his,” Riggs says.

As they continue to toss out suggestions my mind reverts to the four men sitting at my dining room table and the ledgers. Sure, it’s fucking ridiculous they even exist. I mean you gotta be a real fucking fool to allow another man the opportunity to keep track of all your sins. But they gotta hold some kind of merit or else Sabella and the Ice Riders wouldn’t have gone after them.

“Parrish,” Wolf calls.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Riggs mutters. “He’s got that look in his eyes. I’m telling you all right now, I ain’t going to church. I did my time this week when I took Eric to mass on Sunday.”

“You went to church?” Pipe questions.

“That’s what happens when you marry an Italian. She wants the kids to be raised Catholic which means Eric started religious instruction this year. If we don’t bring the envelope to church every Sunday, the kid will get kicked out of CCD and next year, come May when he’s supposed to make his First Holy Communion, they’ll tell us he can’t. Lauren won’t get to have her big party and I’ll be fucked.”

“It’s not about bringing the envelope, it’s about having the kid attend mass, so he knows what he’s receiving,” Wolf educates his son-in-law.

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