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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 recovering. 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.”

“Good luck with that.” He gave me a brotherly pat as he said, “Let me know if I can get you anything.”

I nodded, then poured myself another shot. Then another. And another. By the next, I was finally starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sadly, it wasn’t enough. I wanted to be completely numb, to escape the cold, empty feeling that had attached itself to my very soul, but there was no escape. No matter how much I drank, no matter how many drugs I took or women I had in my bed, that feeling was there reminding me that I’d never be whole.

The whole thing was fucking exhausting. I didn’t want to be so fucked up. I wanted to be normal, to know what it felt like to truly love someone and to be loved, but my father had made it clear a long time ago that I’d never have that. As I sat there, I could almost hear him shout, ‘You piece of shit! Don’t you know how to do anything right? So fucking pitiful. Can’t do shit. You’ll never amount to nothing. You’ll always be my biggest fucking mistake.’

His words seared through me, scorching me right down to the bone. No one could see the scars his words had left behind, but they were there—embedded deep within. I closed my eyes, trying my damnedest to think of anything but him. I inhaled a deep breath, and it wasn’t long before my thoughts drifted to Frankie. I thought about how fucking adorable she looked hiding in those damn bushes, her smile, the way the sunlight danced along her dark, silky hair, and for a moment, the tightness in my chest subsided. Sadly, the moment didn’t last long. More of my father’s vicious words came rushing through my mind. Worthless. A waste of fucking air. Pathetic. No one would ever, could ever love a nobody like you.


Tags: L. Wilder Ruthless Sinners MC Erotic