Widow's Undoing

by L. Wilder

  “I did.”

  “How’s the hand?”

  I clenched it at my side, feeling the tightness of my skin around my swollen knuckles as I told him, “It’s better.”

  “Good. Glad to hear it.”

  I nodded, then started out of the room, “I’ll see you both at church.”

  As I headed down the hall, I could hear my brothers talking in the kitchen, but I didn’t stop to speak. I walked straight out to the parking lot and got on my bike. I needed a moment to clear my head. Unfortunately, I that didn’t happen. After only a few miles of driving, I found myself thinking about the night before and my unexpected encounter with Frankie Sullivan. As much as I wanted to fight it, thoughts of Frankie and her gorgeous blue eyes had already taken root in my mind, and they were growing by the second.

  Damn.

  It was time to put her and our little encounter behind me once and for all.

  Chapter 4

  Frankie

  There have been many people who’ve come in and out of my life, but only a slim few had made a true, lasting impression on me. Widow, our mysterious hero in the night, was one of those people.

  I’ll be honest. When he first approached Sean and me on that dark highway, I was more than a little wary, and justifiably so. The guy was big and broad with dark, menacing eyes and shaggy hair. And if that wasn’t enough, he was wearing a leather jacket with the words Ruthless Sinners embroidered on the back. He was a sight to behold. I had every right to be scared.

  Then, he spoke.

  I can’t really explain why, but the more he talked, the more at ease I became. And I wasn’t the only one. Sean, my usually reserved, quiet child, was acting like this complete stranger was an old friend which only made me feel even more comfortable. I was finally able to see past the fear to the man standing before me—and oh my. What a man he was. He had this internal tenacity that exuded confidence with a smidge of arrogance. Widow was a man who wasn’t afraid to take charge, but at the same time, he was grounded with nothing to prove. Add in the fact he was kind enough to stop and help two complete strangers and you have a man who is undeniably sexy.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him which was a clear sign that I needed to get back on the dating horse again. Before I could do that, I needed to get the situation with Corry under control. I thought I was getting closer to doing just that until Corry’s new counselor called.

  “Hello, Ms. Sullivan. This is Peyton Archer. Do you have a moment to talk?”

  “Of course.” I’d been expecting his call. After Corry’s last appointment, he’d mentioned that he had something to discuss with me. I just didn’t know what, so I said, “I was hoping to hear from you.”

  “Great.” He inhaled a deep breath before saying, “First, let me start off by saying I think things are going well. Corry was a little apprehensive at first, but he’s starting to open up and we’re making progress.”

  “That’s really great news.”

  “I think so as well.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “I wanted to check with you to see if Corry has ever taken any kind of anxiety medication? Maybe Wellbutrin or Zoloft?”

  “No. He’s never had to take anything like that.”

  “So, no one has ever suggested that he might need it?”

  “No. Never.” Alarmed by his questioning, I asked, “Why? Do you think he needs it?”

  “I think it could be very beneficial for him. He clearly has some issues with anxiety, and I think the medication could help. I thought I would call and get your thoughts on the matter.”

  “I think it might help as well. Like I mentioned before, my boys have been through a lot, especially Corry.”

  “Yes, I made note of that.” His tone remained steady and calm as he said, “You said Marc was hard on Corry, that he pushed him to be better. Do you think he pushed him too hard?”

  “At times, yes, but Corry isn’t exactly the most motivated child. It doesn’t seem like he’s driven at all. I thought he needed a little pushing.” My chest tightened as I said, “I even pushed him myself. I just wanted to see him succeed.”

  “That’s completely understandable, Ms. Sullivan. Boys his age often need a little direction.”

  “So, where are you going with all this?”

  “I believe Corry has a mild case of PTSD..”

  “Oh my. I had no idea.” I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I couldn’t believe it. My son could have PTSD, and I hadn’t seen it. I’d known he wasn’t sleeping. I heard him talk about being wound up over a test or project, but I thought it was all normal. I thought it was typical teenage behavior. “Is that why you want to try the medication?”

  “Yes, it’s one of the many reasons.” Before I could respond, he added, “If it’s okay with you, I will call it into your pharmacy this morning, and we can see if it helps.”

  “Yes, that will be fine. Thank you.”

  After I gave him my pharmacy information, Dr. Archer said, “You have a good day, Ms. Sullivan, and I’ll see you and Corry on Thursday.”

  As soon as I hung up the phone, I went over to my secret spot in the garage and grabbed my pack of cigarettes. I took it and my lighter over to the front porch and stepped behind the shrubbery, trying my best to hide as I lit one of the cigarettes. I silently cursed myself for smoking yet again. I knew it was an awful habit and I needed to quit. And I would. Just not today. I was nestled into my secret hiding spot, trying to fight back my tears as I mulled over my conversation with the counselor. I was feeling completely overwhelmed when I heard the rumble of a motorcycle coming in my direction. It wasn’t a sound I was used to hearing in my neighborhood, so I peeked my head out of the bushes and was surprised to see Widow pulling into my driveway.

  Before I even realized what I was doing, I’d stepped back into my hiding spot and froze. I had no idea what he was doing there. I’d never given him my address. I’d never even mentioned what area of town I lived in, so I had no idea how he’d even found me. I could feel my heart racing as I watched him remove his helmet and get off his bike. When he reached into his bag and grabbed something, I panicked. This was it. Widow was no hero. He was a sicko who’d come to do God knows what. Damn. I took a quick hit off my cigarette, then returned it to my side, hoping it would settle the overwhelming anxiety I was feeling as he made his way up my front steps. He was just about to knock when something caught his attention—more than likely my stupid cigarette. He made his way back down the steps, then leaned over to look in the bushes.

  That’s when he spotted me. “Frankie?”

  “Um-hmm.” I took a step out of hiding, and the second my eyes met his, I knew he hadn’t come there to hurt me. Since I still had no idea why he’d come, I teased, “Look, I’m having a really bad day, so if you’re here to rob me or kill me, can you make it quick? I just don’t have it in me to fight for my survival.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah. That bad.”

  His eyes dropped to my hand as he asked, “You got another one of those?”

  “Sure. Just let me grab one.” I stepped out onto the walkway, rushed into the garage to grab him one, and quickly returned. “I hide them in the garage.”

  “Hide ‘em?” he asked as he lit the cigarette. “Who exactly are you hiding them from?”

  “My kids.” I nodded my head towards the house. “I know it sounds silly, but they don’t like it when I smoke.”

  “That why you’re in the bushes?”

  “Pretty much.” I shrugged. “I don’t do it very often. Just when I’m really stressed out or having a crappy day.”

  “Like today.”

  “Exactly.”

  A smile swept across his lips, and it was just about the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. He brought the cigarette up to his mouth, and for a brief moment, I was actually jealous of that damn cigarette. I was trying to shake off my overactive hormones when he asked, “So, why don’t you tell me about this bad day of yours?”


  “Umm, well...you know. Just your typical stuff. I lost my wallet, the house is a total disaster, and the laundry is piled high. I’ve been rushing around all day. To school, then to the counselor, back to school, and then to work. Feels like I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off all day.” I didn’t know why I’d rambled off all the details of my terrible day. For whatever reason, I felt comfortable talking to him—too comfortable. Instead of ending my rambling there, I kept going. “To top it all off, Corry’s counselor just called, and he seems to think Corry has PTSD. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that one.”

  “Damn. Sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I tossed my cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I blurted all that out. I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me complain about my crazy life.”

  “No need to apologize..” His dark eyes locked on mine as he said, “I asked. You answered.”

  “Yeah, well. I might’ve gotten carried away.”

  “No. I get it. You have a lot on your plate.”

  “I do, but it comes with the territory when you’re divorced with two kids. Usually, I handle things a little better, but hearing the news about Corry threw me for a loop.” He didn’t speak. He just stood there silently staring back at me. “I love my kids. I try to be a good mother to them, but it’s hard. Sometimes I feel like a complete failure.”

  “You’re not a failure, Frankie. Far from it. The way your boy was with you last night was proof of that.”

  He looked at me with such kindness and compassion, like he really understood what I was going through. That wasn’t something I’d expect from a fierce, virile biker. With all my preconceived notions, I figured a man like him would be hard and cold, more like Marc, but I was wrong. From the depth of his dark, dreamy eyes to the sexy, low rumble of his voice, he was the walking definition of smoking hot—basically everything Marc was not. Feeling the sudden need to steady myself, I eased over to the porch steps. As I sat down, I looked up at him and asked, “Do you have kids?”

  “No.” He cocked his eyebrow as he replied, “At least none that I’m aware of.”

  “Oh, well, let’s hope you haven’t had any mishaps.” I giggled as I teased, “I’d hate to see you end up on Jerry Springer.”

  “Not gonna happen.” He chuckled as he took a quick glance of the yard and house. “So, what line of work are you in?”

  “I own a coffee shop near the college. There were times when I actually thought I was going to go under, but one day the place just took off.” I smiled proudly as I told him, “It’s called the Coffee Shop on the Corner. You should come by and check it out sometime.”

  “Yeah, I’ll have to do that.”

  “What about you? What do you do?’

  “My brothers and I manage Stilettos.”

  “The gentlemen’s club?” I asked, sounding more surprised than I intended.

  “There are two, but yeah. It’s a gentlemen’s club.” He cocked his eyebrow as he asked, “You ever been?”

  “Me? Nooo.” I shook my head. “I’ve never been to any strip club before, and I’m not looking to go anytime soon.”

  “So, I take it you won’t be putting it on your bucket list?”

  “I won’t say no, but I’d say it’s doubtful.”

  “Understood.”

  Widow put out his cigarette right before my front door opened. We both turned to find Sean standing on the front porch. Sean’s eyes widened with surprise as he gasped, “Widow!”

  “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

  “Good.” Sean skirted down the steps as he asked, “What are you doing here?”

  I’d been so wrapped up in our conversation I’d forgotten to even ask why he’d come by or how he’d even gotten my address. I don’t know what had gotten into me. I was usually so careful, especially around strangers, but I’d all but lost my head when it came to this man. Regardless, I was beyond relieved when he replied, “I came by to drop off your mom’s wallet.”

  I shot up from my spot on the steps. “You found it?”

  “I meant to say something when you mentioned losing it, but you were kind of on a roll.” As he offered it to me, he continued, “Must’ve fallen out when you stopped to fix the flat. I had to look at your license to get your address, but everything should still be there.”

  “I was just about to cancel all my cards.” As I took it from his hand, I smiled and said, “Thank you so much for bringing it by.”

  “No problem.”

  “Hey,” Sean started. “I looked up some of those motorcycle safety videos on YouTube last night.”

  “That right?”

  “Yeah. There are a bunch of them. I’m gonna work on learning all the different hand signals.”

  While I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Sean becoming so interested in motorcycles, it was nice to see him so excited about something. I looked over to Widow as I teased, “Looks like you’ve started something here.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Everything okay out here?” I looked up to find Corry standing on the steps with a concerned look on his face.

  “Yes, sweetheart. Everything’s fine.” I motioned my hand towards Widow as I said, “This is Widow. The man who helped us with the flat tire.”

  “Oh, right. Thanks for helping my mom like that.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  Corry’s eyes drifted to the driveway, and as soon as Corry saw Widow’s motorcycle parked behind my car, he gasped, “Is that the Harley Sean’s been talking about?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” Sean answered excitedly. “Isn’t it cool?”

  “Hell, yeah it is. It’s totally badass!” Corry turned his attention to Widow as he asked, “Can I go check it out?”

  “Absolutely.”

  As soon as he gave the okay, both Corry and Sean raced over to his motorcycle and started fawning all over it like it was the most amazing thing they’d ever seen. Widow and I stood there silently watching them for several minutes before he finally said, “I think you’ve got some future bikers on your hands.”

  “Maybe it’s just a phase.”

  “Um-hmm. Keep telling yourself that.” His eyes met mine, and I held his gaze—right up until the moment he said, “I better get going.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  He didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at me like he was trying to commit my face to memory. I knew then it was doubtful I’d ever see him again. I figured it was for the best. I had two impressionable boys and a heart that had already been damaged beyond repair. I wasn’t ready to take a risk, not one this big, so I didn’t try and stop him. Instead, I simply said, “Thank you again for returning my wallet.”

  “Sure thing.”

  With that, he turned and started towards his bike. The boys were all smiles as they said their goodbyes. They were still smiling as they watched Widow put on his helmet and start the engine. As he pulled out of the driveway, I could hear them talking about how awesome Widow and his bike were. It seemed Widow hadn’t just made an impression on me; he’d made one on my boys as well. It seemed a shame we’d never see him again.

  Chapter 5

  Widow

  After leaving Frankie’s place, I went straight to the clubhouse bar. I needed a drink. Hell, I needed more than one. I needed a fucking IV of Patron. It was the only way I was going to get Frankie and her blue eyes out of my head. Even though I’d tried to fight it, the woman had gotten under my skin, and now, I found myself wanting her. I wanted her in my arms, in my bed, and it pissed me off that it couldn’t happen.

  She was a single mother who was trying her damnedest to raise her two boys the best way she could, and the last thing she needed was a man like me—a man broken and incapable of giving or receiving love. Hell, I wasn’t sure I even knew what real love was. Never truly experienced it. Certainly never saw it. Growing up, all I witnessed was fighting and recoverin
g. I could still remember the look in my mother’s eyes. There was no warmth. No love. My father had beaten that out of her long before I came along. Still don’t know why she bothered to bring Madden and me into the world.

  In hopes of pushing the thoughts of Frankie and my mother out of my head, I threw back my shot of tequila and poured myself another. I’d just tossed it back and was pouring a third when Danny, one of our prospects, came barreling through the back door with a case of liquor. As he carried it over to the counter, his eyes skirted over my bottle of tequila, then over to me. “You alright, brother?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” I lied as I took my third shot. “How ‘bout yourself? You hanging in there?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m hanging in just fine.” He dropped the case down on the counter and started unpacking the various bottles of liquor. The kid looked just like his sister Delilah—right down to his hair and freckles. I’d had my doubts about the kid, but he’d proven himself to be an asset when he took a bullet for Viper. And he’d continue to prove himself over the past three or four months. Hell, we barely ever saw the guy. Since he was our newest prospect, he was stuck doing all the nightly grunt work, but we’d just taken on another prospect, giving Danny a little more autonomy within the club. He’d used that freedom well and showed a good deal of initiative which was something we all looked for in a brother. “Things have gotten a lot better now that I’m not the low man on the totem pole. I thought I was gonna be stuck doing the bitch work forever.”

  “You’re not the first to feel that way.” I grabbed another shot glass and poured Danny a drink, then slid it over to him. “It’ll all be worth it when you get that patch.”

  “Damn straight.” After tossing back his shot, he went back to unloading the case of booze. “You ain’t hitting Stilettos tonight?”

  “Not tonight. Taking a much-needed break.” I took another shot, then said, “Gonna try to knock back a few demons before I call it a night.”