Page 45 of Chaos & Corruption

His threat misses the mark because I could give a fuck less about my future with the NFL. All that matters to me right now is Victoria. The whole goddamn world can burn so long as I know she’s okay.

“I don’t know who hurt Victoria, man. That is not a lie.” I pause to comb my fingers roughly through my hair. “At this point you know more than I do.”Also not a lie.“For fucks sake I don’t even know if she’s alive,” I shout, losing my patience. I’ve reached my breaking my point and it’s hard to ignore what very well can be true.

Before Riggs can respond, though, Victoria’s father comes into my view, opening the back door of the Escalade parked in front of the bikes. Lifting his bloodshot eyes to mine, he orders me to get the fuck in the car and I don’t hesitate. If there is one person who can relate to the clusterfuck of emotions I’m feeling, it’s him. He’s the man that loved her first and I’m the man who loved her last.

He slides in next to me as Riggs rounds the front of the truck and climbs behind the steering wheel. The rumble of the bikes behind us causes me to jump slightly and I turn my head to peer out the window, watching as they surround the Escalade the second Riggs peels away from the curb. Bringing my eyes back to Mr. Bianci, I force a swallow.

“Where are you taking me?”

He leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands. I glance at Riggs through the rearview mirror, hoping he has enough sense to intervene, but his eyes are pinned to the road. Sweat builds at my brow as I think of something to say and for a brief moment, I toy with the idea of opening the door and rolling out of the truck. I probably won’t make it far. The bikers will either run me over or shoot me, but I’m getting nowhere here.

“Do you know loss, kid?” Mr. Bianci asks, meeting my gaze. “Because I do. I know what it’s like to have everything ripped right from your hands and I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty, when a man suffers that kind of pain, he does everything in his power to make sure it never happens again. I lost Victoria’s mother a long time ago. Lost our baby too. Felt like someone cut me in two and pulled my heart right out of my chest.” He pauses, pulling in a deep breath and I remain completely still. I don’t like where this is headed. All this talk about loss—is he trying to tell me Victoria is gone?

“But by some miracle of God, I got my woman back. We grieved the life of a child we never got to meet, while falling in love with our son. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t his biological father, he wasmine. Mine to love, guide, and protect. Life was good. It was great. Thenshecame.” His words trail and he shakes his head. “Thought I knew love, but it turns out I didn’t know shit until that little girl was placed in my arms. She completed me. Took the broken parts and sewed them together with those mis-matched eyes of hers.”

Funny, I think those eyes did the same for me.

“I’m not a good man. I’ve got sins that would make the Devil weep. But someone somewhere thought I was worthy of such a gift and when a man receives a gift so precious, he swears on everything Holy he’ll do everything in his power to protect it. I failed my daughter, kid, and for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do. My natural instinct tells me it’s my job to seek revenge, but my heart is saying something else. After you called Riggs, no one knew what we were up against. We called Mila. We called the school. Then we called the cops. We were already on our way to Stonewall when they called my wife’s cell and told us they found her.”

Bile rises in my throat.

For someone who wanted to hear the truth so desperately, I wish he wouldn’t continue. I don’t think I can handle what comes next.

“They wouldn’t give us much information over the phone, just that they were taking her to the nearest hospital, and they instructed us to meet them there. A million thoughts ran through my head. Every one more grim than the last. I should’ve been strong for my wife. I should’ve lifted her up, but when we walked into that hospital, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be what my family needed to be. I stood there, listening as the cops explained how they found her. Then I stood there some more as the doctors spoke with us. At one point I stopped listening, though. That’s when I walked past the doctors and charged into her room. I needed to see her, and now I can’t unsee her.”

His eyes meet mine.

“Just tell me she’s alive,” I plead.

He doesn’t respond right away, but then he tears his gaze away from mine and says, “She’s alive.”

I close my eyes as relief washes over me. I can finally breath.

“But when she wakes up—ifshe wakes up—she’s going to wish she were dead.”

Seventeen

Alex Reggiano

Victoria’s fatherdidn’t elaborate on those words, and I didn’t press the issue. I had heard enough rumors and witnessed enough crimes while being a student at Stonewall University to know what happened to my not-so pretend girlfriend. I sunk back against the leather seats and didn’t say a word.

No one did.

I didn’t know where they were taking me, and I was too distraught to care. I got lost in my thoughts, in the memories of me and Victoria. All the kisses we shared for show and the ones that were just for us. Our first real date, the secrets we told and the way we worshipped one another before I left for the game. It all played like a movie reel inside my head.

At some point I must’ve drifted off to sleep, though, because when I opened my eyes next, we were in front of the hospital.

“You two go on in. I’m going to park the truck and meet you in there,” Riggs told Mr. Bianci. I turned my attention back to Victoria’s dad, watching as he pulled in a deep breath. He looked even more ragged than before, and I wasn’t sure how that was possible. Then his blue eyes cut to me.

“Let’s go, Alex.”

It was the first time he referred to me by my name and it caught me off guard. Still, I did as I was told and followed him out of the Escalade. The bikes that had escorted us were parked in front of the hospital and the men who rode them all stared at me and Mr. Bianci as we walked toward the motion-censored doors.

With every step I took, Riggs’ threat played on a continuous loop inside my head.

You’re going to tell us who put their hands on my niece and if you don’t, well, let’s just say you can kiss the draft goodbye. The NFL doesn’t have a use for athletes who find themselves in a wheelchair with two broken legs.

Neither Riggs nor Mr. Bianci seemed to be in a rush to make good on that threat and now, here we are, riding the elevator up to the Intensive Care Unit. I don’t know what they expect of me or what to make of any of this.

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