by L. Wilder
“Alarm went off at Viper’s place. No way I could just sit there and not do something, so I drove his truck over.”
“We have it handled!”
“Says the man who had a fucking dump truck crash into the side of his fucking clubhouse.” He motioned his head over at the man he’d just killed. “And from where I’m standing, it looks like I got here just in the nick of time.”
“Is that fucking Country?” Hawk asked as came over and knelt down beside me. Without waiting for an answer, he leaned over the edge of the roof and shouted, “Hey, brother. You see anyone else down there?”
“Give me a minute and I’ll find out.”
Country pumped his shotgun as he made his way around the side of the clubhouse. Once he was out of our line of view, Hawk turned to me and said, “Need you and Menace to go check things out downstairs...make sure Prez and the others are holding their own. Rafe and I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Country.”
I didn’t argue. I was just as eager as he was to find out if our president was okay. Menace and I stayed low as we made my way back over to the hatch. I took a few steps down, then scanned the area for any potential threat. I didn’t see or hear anything which was troubling. We’d seen several men enter the building, but I had no idea where they’d gone. I carefully made my way down the stairs, then started towards the bar. As I got closer, I spotted one of them sprawled out on the floor. He was up on his elbows, pulling himself towards the front end of the truck. I crept over to him and placed my gun at the back of his head as I said, “Going somewhere, sunshine?”
“Fuck you.”
The guy tilted his head up to look at me, and that’s when I saw them—the huge fucking gauges in his ears. As much as I wanted to pull the trigger and blow the motherfucker’s brains out, I’d given Country my word that I’d save the asshole for him. When I turned to Menace, I saw that he had his Glock aimed at the guy’s head and was about to pull the trigger until I said, “Hold up. Already promised him to Country.”
He nodded, then slammed the butt of his gun into the guy’s head, knocking him out cold. Just for safe measure, I took off my belt and used it to secure his hands behind him. We’d just started to drag him over to the corner when Lynch walked in. “What the fuck are y’all doing?”
“Don’t ask. Just help us get this motherfucker out of the way.”
Doing as he was told, Lynch came over and helped us drag the guy over to the corner. Once we were done, I asked, “Where are the others?”
“Axel and Bear were covering the window in the kitchen, and Viper went to check on Shotgun.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah, but there wasn’t...”
I didn’t wait for him to finish. Instead, I took off down the hall towards Shotgun’s holding room. I knew long before I got there something was wrong. Hell, I could feel it in my bones as I raced down the hall only slowing when I came across two bodies sprawled out on the floor. Seemed Shotgun had run into some trouble. I just prayed he was able to hold his own as I made my way up to the two-way mirror. Dread washed over me as I looked through the glass and found that Grant had a bullet wound to the head, and one of those motherfuckers in black was standing behind Viper. The asshole had the barrel of his gun pressed against Viper’s temple, and Shotgun was standing across the room with his gun aimed at the stranger’s head. They were at a standoff—each refusing to lower their weapons. Startled by the sight, Lynch muttered, “Oh, shit.”
“Stay here.”
“Wait...you’re going in there?”
“Damn straight I am. Just do like I said and wait here.”
My president’s life was in danger, so I had no choice but to enter the room. With my gun drawn, I eased the door open, and as soon as I stepped inside, the man in black glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Well, hello there, Widow. We’ve been waiting for you....”
Chapter 16
Frankie
“It’s important for you to set clear expectations for Corry, and if he fails to meet those expectations, there should be clear and set consequences. It helps set boundaries and provides structure, which is something both you and Corry need. It helps you both know where you stand.”
“I understand.” Corry and I had met with Dr. Archer together several times over the past few weeks. Dr. Archer thought it would help Corry through some of the hardships that came with having PTSD. I understood Corry’s anxiety. I had my own issues with that, but the fact that he was withdrawing and avoiding contact with others was concerning to me. I’d brought that to Dr. Archer’s attention, along with how I was worried about the horrible state of Corry’s room and how concerned I was he might be using again. I felt like all of it together showed his state of mind wasn’t in a good place. I desperately wanted to make things better for Corry, so I did my best to take his advice to heart. “I can definitely work on that.”
“You are a people pleaser, Frankie. Part of that is just your nature, but some of that comes from the abuse you sustained during your marriage. You said yourself you did everything you could to appease your ex-husband in hopes that it would prevent a blowup. While it might be beneficial to others, that kind of mindset can make things very difficult for you.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I glanced over at Corry as I his words sink in for a moment. My son looked like he was a million miles away as Dr. Archer said, “I know you struggle with how hard your ex-husband was on your boys, and you often take it easier on them because of it. You have to remember there’s a fine line between making things easier for your kids and failing to give them the discipline they need to thrive.”
While it wasn’t easy to hear, I knew he was right. I always tried to make things easier for not only the boys but everyone in my life—sometimes to a fault. I’d often sacrifice my own happiness to make things better for someone else, and that wasn’t good for anyone, especially me. I nodded as I told him, “You’re right. I need to do better about that. I need to set firmer rules and stick to them.”
“I know it isn’t easy, but it will make your life much easier if you do.” His tone waivered with uncertainty as he said, “And if at all possible, those same rules and expectations should apply when he’s with his father. I know that can be difficult.”
“Very.”
“Dad should have his own rules and expectations,” Corry grumbled. “Maybe then he wouldn’t blow up on me for every stupid thing I do.”
“I agree.” I shook my head and sighed. “There’s not much I can do about that though.”
Corry glared at me as he snapped, “You could make it where I don’t have to go over there.”
“It wasn’t my choice, Corry.” I felt so helpless as I told him, “It was court- ordered.”
“Yeah, but you could make the judge change that,” Corry huffed. “I bet if he knew how Dad was always threatening to knock my teeth out of my head, he would change his mind about making me go.”
“Maybe.” I’d hoped that the anger management classes would’ve done more to help Marc with his temper. Even though he’d hit Corry and hurt him physically, I knew the verbal abuse was just as detrimental—if not more. It certainly had been for me. “I think it’s time to see about taking him back to court.”
“It won’t do any good. We’re stuck with him.”
“It’s worth a try.”
“If you decide to go that route, I will be glad to attend mediation,” Dr. Archer offers. I will let them know about my concerns.”
“Okay. I’d appreciate that.”
Dr. Archer doodled on his notepad once more, then shifted his attention to me. “You mentioned you were concerned Corry was still using marijuana?”
“Yes, I am.” I turned to Corry and studied him for a moment. “But honestly, I’m not sure if he is. It’s so hard to tell. I mean, I didn’t even know he was using until I got the call from the police officer.”
Again, Dr. Archer scribbled something on his notepad as he asked, “Have you considered testing him?”
“Yes, but I’ve been a little hesitant to try it.”
“And why is that?”
“I don’t want him to feel like I don’t trust him,” I admitted.
Archer’s brows furrowed. “Can you trust him?”
“For the most part.” I glanced over at my sullen child as I explained, “But there are times when I don’t think he’s being fully honest with me, and I can’t always trust him to do what he is told.”
“Considering his situation with his friends, there’s a good chance they will ask him to use with them again. If he’s being tested, he can use it as an excuse not to use.” Dr. Archer turned to Corry as he told him, “You can just tell them you can’t. That your Mom is drug testing you, and if you come up positive, you’ll be in a heap of trouble.”
Corry didn’t respond. He just rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling—which I thought was a good indication that Dr. Archer was right. His buddies were still trying to get him to use with them. I knew it was Corry’s choice whether or not he agreed to go along with them, but I hoped the drug testing would help alleviate some of the temptation. I looked back to Dr. Archer as I told him, “I think it’s worth a try.”
“I definitely think so.” Archer stood as he told us, “Well, that’s about all the time we have for today. I have Corry down for next Tuesday at four.”
“Okay, great.” Corry and I stood, and as we started out of the room, I said, “Thank you for meeting with both of us today.”
“I think it went very well.”
“Me too.”
Corry didn’t say a word as we walked out of the office and headed to the car. He maintained his silence as we got in the car and started home. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Um-hmm.”
While he hadn’t admitted it, I knew he was frustrated. It was written all over his face. I’d hoped he’d open up to me a little and tell me what was on his mind, but like always, he kept it all bottled up inside. I could’ve pushed and tried to convince him that he could talk to me, but I knew him well enough to know I needed to give him some time. He needed a chance to think about everything we’d talked about with Archer, so I didn’t say anything to him when we got home. I simply watched as he went into his room and closed the door, shutting me and the rest of the world out.
He stayed there for most of the night, only coming out to eat a bite of dinner. When it came time for bed, I decided to go in and check on him. I tapped on his door, then eased it open. Corry was sprawled out on his bed watching videos on his phone. As I started over to him, I said, “I just wanted to come tell you good night.”
“Night.”
I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you, Corry Sullivan. I love you more than you could possibly know.”
“I love you, too.”
“I’m really sorry things are so hard with your father. I’d hoped they’d get easier, but maybe it is time for us to talk about taking him back to court.”
“Nah, we don’t have to do that yet.” Corry glanced up at me as he said, “I can handle Dad.”
“I know you can. I just hate you have to.” My heart ached with a feeling of helplessness. I wanted so much to take my child’s pain away. I wanted to make things easier for him, but sadly, that power had been taken out of my hands. This was his journey to take, and he had to find the strength in himself to see it through. I gave his forearm a light squeeze as I told him, “Think on it, and remember, I’m always here if you need me.”
“I know.”
“Good. Now, get some sleep. We have to get up early in the morning.”
“Okay.” As I started out of his room, I heard him say, “Love ya, Mom.”
“Love you, too!”
While our conversation was brief at best, I felt better as I walked out of his room and closed the door. I knew Corry and Sean had a long road ahead of them with their father, and even though I knew it wouldn’t be easy, I truly believed they would not only get through it, but they’d be better off for doing so. There was some good in Marc. It was often difficult to see, but I wouldn’t have married him if I hadn’t seen it in him. I certainly wouldn’t have had children with him. I just hoped he’d let go of the hate and anger he had for me long enough to show the boys that side of him was still there. I knew Marc was still holding on to a lot of animosity for me, but I didn’t realize how much until the following afternoon when he showed back up at the coffee shop.
We were just slowing down from the lunch rush when he came waltzing in. When he made it over to the counter, I asked, “Did Sean forget something else?”
“No.” He looked around at all the customers and grumbled, “I was hoping we’d have a minute alone.”
“Sorry. Sydney had an errand to run, so it’s just me here. What did you need?”
“We need to finish the conversation we started yesterday.”
“What conversation?”
“The one about you and your new friend.” Marc took another glance around before sitting down on one of the stools at the counter. “I’d hoped you were just going through some kind of phase, but clearly, that isn’t the case.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about!” His nostrils flared as he whispered, “You and that damn biker fella.”
“I don’t see why that’s any of your business, Marc.”
“If it concerns you, then hell yes, it’s my business. You’re my wife!”
“Ex-wife, Marc.” I wasn’t sure if what he’d said was intentional or not. Not that it mattered. He was way off base, so I crossed my arms and looked him dead in the eye. “I’ve been your ex-wife for over two years now, or have you forgotten?”
“No, I remember all too well.” His face was growing redder by the second, and I could tell he was struggling to control his temper as he leaned towards me and whispered, “Just because we’re divorced doesn’t mean you can go and fuck whoever the hell you want to!”
“Actually, it does.” I didn’t want to pick a fight with him—especially when I had customers sitting only a few feet away, but I wasn’t about to let him railroad me. “We lead separate lives now. You are married to Lila Jo. You two share a life together, and that life doesn’t involve me. So, like it or not, you have no say in who I choose to spend my time with.”
“You will not continue this thing with him! I won’t have it!”
“Again, you have no say in the matter, Marc.” I tried to keep my voice low as I told him, “I can and will see whomever I want.”
“You always were a fucking whore.”
“I’m not a whore.” I was growing angrier by the second. I knew I needed to remain calm, or we’d end up causing a horrible scene. I inhaled a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “I never once fooled around when we were together. That was all you.”
“Yeah, keep spewing your lies.” He rolled his eyes as he spat, “I shouldn’t be surprised you want to fuck around with trash like him.”
“You don’t know anything about him.” I was about to try and defend Roman’s honor when it hit me. I’d never told him anything about Roman, and I felt pretty certain the boys wouldn’t have mentioned anything about him. There was no way he would’ve known anything about him unless he’d actually seen us together. “How exactly did you even know I’d gone out with him?”
“I already told you...I saw you two coming out of the coffee shop the night of Sean’s basketball game.”
“Um-hmm. I remember.” I stood back and crossed my arms. “But how did you know I was still seeing him?”
The blood drained from his face as he stammered, “I...uh...I saw you in the driveway the other night.”
“Oh? What were you doing out by my place at that time of night?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“No, I would say it’s very relevant. You have no business being at my house unless you are there to
pick up or drop off the boys. It’s in our parenting plan, remember? So, stop snooping around my house and whatever else it is you’re doing.”
“You can’t tell me where I can and cannot go, Frankie.”
“And you can’t tell me who I can and cannot date.”
“The hell I can’t!” The vein in his neck started to pulse with rage as he snarled, “I will not have you bringing your garbage around my boys.”
“You’re one to talk.” I dropped my hands to the counter and leaned towards him as I whispered, “Your boys saw what you had hidden in your drawer, Marc!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about all your perverted tendencies. The audacity of you leaving that stuff in a place where the boys could find it!” I couldn’t believe how good it felt to actually stand up to him. “If anyone is garbage, it’s you! You’re sick, Marc. You always have been. Either get your crap together, or I’m taking you back to court.”
“If we go back to court, I’m getting full custody of my boys!”
“You can certainly try, but you better be ready for a hell of a fight.”
“You’re crazy if you think you can beat me!”
“This conversation is over, Marc.” I took my cleaning rag and started wiping down the counters. “It’s time for you to go.”
I couldn’t believe it. He didn’t respond. The man was actually rendered speechless. After several moments, I finally pointed to the door and said, “There’s nothing left to say. Just go, Marc.”
Looking defeated, Marc didn’t say a word as he turned and walked out of the shop. When the door closed, there was a soft round of applause from the table in the corner. I turned and found several of my regulars smiling and giving me a thumbs up. They were a group of young mothers who came by for lunch every Tuesday and Thursday after taking their kids to the park. Embarrassed they’d overheard our conversation, I eased over to them and said, “I’m really sorry about that. I had no idea he was going to bombard me like that.”
“No need to apologize,” Cindy assured me. She was a beautiful blonde and had the most adorable six-month-old. She was all smiles as she told me, “We were all very impressed with how you handled yourself.”
