Widow's Undoing
Page 1
Widow’s Undoing
Ruthless Sinners Book 4
L. Wilder
Widow’s Undoing
Ruthless Sinners MC Series- Book 4
Copyright 2021
L. Wilder- All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication or any part of this series may be reproduced without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Some of the places named in the book are actual places found in Nashville, Tennessee. The names, characters, brands, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and owners of various products and locations referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication or use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. All Rights Reserved.
Book Cover Details:
Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations
Image: Wander Aguiar Photography
Model: Rodiney Santiago
Proofreader: Rose Holub @ReadbyRose
Proofreader: Marie Peyton
Personal Assistant: Natalie Weston
Created with Vellum
Sign up for L. Wilder’s Newsletter for news on next releases: http://bit.ly/1RGsREL
Social media Links:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLeslieWilder
Twitter: https://twitter.com/wilder_leslie
Instagram: http://instagram.com/LWilderbooks
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/L-Wilder/e/B00NDKCCMI/
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/l-wilder
TikTok- https://www.tiktok.com/@lwilderauthor?lang=en
Catch up with the entire Satan’s Fury MC Series today!
All books are FREE with Kindle Unlimited!
Summer Storm (Satan’s Fury MC Novella)
Maverick (Satan’s Fury MC #1)
Stitch (Satan’s Fury MC #2)
Cotton (Satan’s Fury MC #3)
Clutch (Satan’s Fury MC #4)
Smokey (Satan’s Fury MC #5)
Big (Satan’s Fury #6)
Two Bit (Satan’s Fury #7)
Diesel (Satan’s Fury #8)
Blaze (Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis Book 1)
Shadow (Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis Book 2)
Riggs (Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis Book 3)
Murphy (Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis Book 4)
Gunner (Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis Book 5)
Gus (Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis Book 6)
Rider (Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis Book 7)
Prospect (Satan’s Fury MC- Memphis Book 8)
T-Bone (Satan’s Fury MC-Memphis Book 9)
Day Three (What Bad Boys Do Book 1)
Damaged Goods- (The Redemption Series Book 1- Nitro)
Max’s Redemption (The Redemption Series Book 2- Max)
Inferno (Devil Chasers #1)
Smolder (Devil Chaser #2)
Ignite (Devil Chasers #3)
Consumed (Devil Chasers #4)
Combust (Devil Chasers #5)
My Temptation (The Happy Endings Collection #1)
Bring the Heat (The Happy Endings Collection #2)
His Promise (The Happy Endings Collection #3)
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Excerpt from Secrets We Keep- Ruthless Sinners Book 3
Prologue
Chapter 1
Prologue
I grew up in Monterey, a small town just east of Cookeville, Tennessee. With a population of about three thousand, there wasn’t much to the place. There was no mall, no bowling alleys, not even a Sonic. But we had the Little General with the best fried chicken in the state and Mario’s, a small Italian joint that made my mouth water every time I drove by. Our town might’ve been small, but every Fourth of July, it seemed to be the biggest place on earth. All our family and friends would meet up at my Uncle Jamie’s for the barbeque of all barbeques with enough food and drinks for an army. The kids would run wild while the parents sat around the grill and threw back a few beers. The Fourth had always been my favorite holiday. I could pretend I was just like every other kid, that I didn’t live in a secret world of hell, but that all changed the summer of ’93.
My mother had one of her migraines, or at least, that’s what she told everyone when she decided to skip the day’s festivities. She wasn’t one for big crowds, so none of us were surprised that she wanted to stay home. Dad was eager to get over to Uncle Jamie’s, so he didn’t complain. Instead, he just ordered my younger brother Madden and I to get in the truck, and we headed over to join the others. As soon as we arrived, we went to join our neighborhood friends and cousins. We rode our bikes down to Manis pond, fished and caught crawdaddies, then came back to the house and cooled off under the sprinkler. As soon as we got dried off, we grabbed a handful of bottle rockets and were shooting at the black birds when my Uncle Jamie peeked his head over the fence and shouted, “Hey, you crazy hood-rats! It’s time to get down to the park!”
“Yes!” we all cheered.
The firework show at Critchfield Park was always a big deal for the folks in Monterey. Everyone in town would gather around with their lawn chairs and coolers, and for a brief moment, all our worries were forgotten. We could all just sit back, shoot the shit, and enjoy the show. Eager to get there and find a good spot, all the kids rushed over and started helping to gather our things. That’s when everything went south.
I was busy helping my best friend Marcus load some folding chairs into the back of his dad’s truck when my father called out to me, “Hey Ro’, where’d ya put my keys?”
“Don’t know.” I shrugged. “I haven’t seen them.”
“What are you talking about? You had them in your hand an hour ago!”
At six-three and three hundred and twenty pounds, my father wasn’t a small man. He towered over me along with most of the people in my family. That was enough to make him intimidating, but it was his ferocious temper that made him scary as hell. The man was a legend in our town, known for whooping half the football team when he was in high school. Those rumors continued when he started getting into brawls down at the local bar. I didn’t have to listen to the rumors to know about his short fuse and the havoc he could bring when he lost control. I lived with him. I knew exactly how terrifying he could be. His cold, black eyes narrowed as I answered, “Yeah, but I gave them back to you.”
He didn’t like my answer. In fact, it was enough to cause his back to stiffen and his chest heave with fury. “If you gave them back to me, I wouldn’t be standing here asking you where the fuck they were!”
“You were sitting with Uncle Jamie when I handed them to you.”
“That’s fucking bullshit, and you know it.” My heart started to pound, and my palms were all sweaty. “You been running around doing God knows what. There’s no telling where my fucking keys ended up!”
My shou
lders drew up as I muttered, “You sure they aren’t in your pocket?”
“No! They aren’t in my goddamn pocket ‘cause I gave them to you! You think I’m stupid or something?” He threw his hands up in frustration. His face was growing redder by the minute, and that vein in his neck was now pulsing. I knew what that meant. He was spiraling into a fit of rage, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “And now you’ve gone and lost them! Stupid, worthless motherfucker!”
By now, everyone at the cookout was staring at us, but no one said a word. They all just stood there, watching silently as I muttered, “I promise I didn’t lose them, Dad. I gave them back to you. I swear it.”
“I know damn, fucking well you didn’t, and don’t you say that shit again!” His chest was heaving with each breath, and his eyes were wide with rage. My eyes drifted to his nose, and panic started to set as I watched his nostrils flare in and out like an angry bull. I’d seen that expression enough times to know he was on the brink. He was about to lose control, and I could only stand there and watch as it happened. He reached out and grabbed my shirt collar, twisting it into his fist as he leaned down and growled, “Your sorry ass lost my fucking keys, and now, your sorry ass is gonna find them! You got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
As soon as he released me, I ran back to where he’d been sitting and searched high and low for his keys. Michael and Jake, two of my first cousins, felt bad for me and tried to help me. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for them to chicken out on me. Michael glanced over at my dad as he whispered, “Hey, man. We gotta go. Um...It’s time for the show.”
“Oh, okay.”
“You’ll find them.” He motioned his hand towards the grill. “Check over by the picnic tables. Maybe they’re over there.”
“I’ll check.”
My heart sank as I watched Jake and Michael join their families and load up in their cars. It wasn’t long before they all backed out of the driveway and left me and Madden to fend for ourselves. I got why they’d want to steer clear. My dad was being an asshole, but damn, I was just nine years old. You would’ve thought one of them would’ve said something to him, tried to get him to calm down and get him off my back, but no one said a thing. They simply drove away and never looked back.
There was still no sign of his keys, and I could tell by looking at him Dad was getting madder by the minute. I didn’t know what to do. Madden and I had already checked all the places I could think of, but they were nowhere to be found. I could literally feel the anger radiating off him from twenty feet away.
“You’re a goddamn idiot—just like your fucking mother.” I’d heard my father’s rants plenty of times. I knew he was angry and trying his best to hurt me. That’s what he always did. Not only did he scare us all, but he wanted to break us and make us feel as shitty as he felt. I tried not to listen as he barked, “Don’t know why I even bother trying with you. All you ever do is disappoint time and time again. If I could disown your sorry ass I would!”
His words stung. My father was often mean and callous, but he was still my father. Rational or not, I hated the thought of being a disappointment to him. I lowered my head and tried to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. That was a mistake. I’d shown a sign of weakness, and that was all it took for my father to lose his self-control. He charged over to me and grabbed hold of me. Before I realized what was happening, he had his arm wound around my neck in a choke hold, strangling me as he lifted my feet off the ground. Madden was too little to help. He could only stand there and watch as I clawed at his arm, trying with all my might to break free. It was no use. He was simply too strong. “Next time I give you something of mine, you best keep up with it. You got me?”
I didn’t get the chance to answer. Before I could respond, he reared his free hand back and formed it into a fist, slamming it into the side of my head—each blow harder than the last. I don’t know how many times he hit me before I finally lost all consciousness and fell limp in his arms.
When I awoke, I was in my father’s lap. He was cradling me like I was a fucking infant as he held a cold rag to my head. He was on the verge of tears as he mumbled, “I’m sorry, buddy. You gotta know I didn’t mean it. I just lost my temper.”
“Um-hmm.” My head was pounding. My chest felt like a hundred-pound weight was pressing down on me. I just wanted to lay there and pretend I was somewhere else. I wanted to pretend that my father hadn’t almost killed me, but that wasn’t an option. Dad would keep coddling me until he felt like he’d made amends, just like he did with Mom every time he hit her. I despised him. I wished he was dead, but he wasn’t. He was right there, living and breathing, waiting on me to come to. I forced my eyes open, and as I laid there trying to come to my senses, I spotted them. My father’s keys were sitting right there on top of his cooler. I lay there staring at them with disbelief. I had to know if my mind was just playing tricks on me, so I asked, “Those your keys?”
“Yeah...I found them in the cooler. They must’ve fallen inside when I was getting a beer.”
“Oh,” was all I could muster as a reply. I was too dazed, too angry to say anything more. I sat up and took in a deep breath. That’s when I finally noticed Madden. He was white as ghost as he stood there staring back at me. “You okay?”
“Um-hmm. Are you?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Dad stood up as he asked, “You boys wanna go watch the fireworks?”
“I’d rather just go on home.”
“Alright. Whatever you want, bud.”
He grabbed our things, and as soon as he had everything loaded, we all got in his truck. On the way home, I thought about everything that had taken place. Up until that night, my father had never been like that with me. Sure, he’d yelled and made me feel like shit, and even belt whipped me whenever he thought I got out of line, but he’d never actually punched me or strangled me like he had today. He’d always saved all that kind of brutality for my mother.
That all changed after the cookout. I was no longer just a bystander. I had gotten older, bigger in my father’s eyes—big enough to face the wrath of his quick temper. Leaving a wet towel on the floor could result in a busted lip or a mild concussion, being late to dinner could leave me with a black eye or a broken rib or two, and no matter how trivial, backtalking in any way could leave me incapacitated for days. Hell, even looking at the guy the wrong way could cause him to release his madness. I’d hoped he would leave him be, but Madden got his own fair share of my father’s attention. After each attack, the guilt would get to him, and he’d ease up a bit. But it never lasted long. My father wasn’t a happy man, and he took it out on the people he was supposed to love the most.
This was my life. I walked a fine line. If I fucked up, I paid the price. Even when I didn’t fuck up, I paid the price. It was a vicious cycle that was only compounded by the fact that everyone knew what was going on. We lived in a small town. We all knew each other by name. They saw the bruises, the bandages, and broken limbs, but instead of feeling sorry for me or trying to help, they’d simply ignore it, pretending they hadn’t seen anything, or look at us with utter disgust, thinking we’d gotten what we’d deserved. Over time, people just quit looking altogether. It was like they saw right through us, treating us like some kind of reject or scab on their perfect little town. The bruises hurt, the busted lips stung, and the broken bones were almost crippling, but the pain they caused was nothing compared to the pain of feeling so utterly alone—so fucking helpless. I hated that fucking feeling. I hated it almost as much as I hated my ol’ man.
Madden and I had pleaded repeatedly with our mom to pack up and go. She always refused, saying we needed our father—that she simply didn’t have the means to raise us on her own. No matter how hard we tried to convince her, my mother wouldn’t leave. She didn’t leave when he knocked out two of my teeth, broke my femur, and shattered my wrist. She didn’t leave when he dragged her across the floor by her hair and kicked her in the side u
ntil her spleen ruptured. Yeah, things got pretty bad. We lived in a world of darkness and secrets, but she stuck it out.
By the time I’d turned sixteen, I’d had enough. I couldn’t take it anymore. I wouldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t going to let him hurt my little brother, not like he’d done me. I’d made up my mind that the next time he touched either of them I would put a bullet in his head.
But I didn’t get the chance.
He was on his way home from work when he decided to stop at the local bar for a few drinks. After one too many beers, he found himself in a fight he couldn’t win. A guy had enough of his fucking foul mouth and knifed him right in the gut. Left him for dead in the parking lot. By the time he was found, it was too late. My father was already gone. Our lives with my father were over, but the effects of his abuse would last for years to come. You see, there are some scars you cannot see, but they are there just the same—some so deep they’ll never fully heal.
Those scars are what made me the man I am today—a man full of anger who never let anyone get too close. A man who knew when to remain silent, how to stand strong inside and out, and knew exactly when to strike. Those were lessons only a father like mine could teach.
Because of him, I had a bite so venomous it would put you in the grave.
Because of him, I was Widow.
Chapter 1
Widow
“Where is everyone tonight?” Marlowe asked as she wiped down the counter. “I haven’t seen it this dead since I started.”