Widow's Undoing (Ruthless Sinners MC 4)

“I’d say yeah, but we don’t have any idea who’s in there with him.”

“We can’t let this guy get away from us,” I pushed. “We need to make a move before it’s too late.”

“And if he’s not alone?”

“Then, we deal with it.”

Hawk nodded. “Alright then. Let’s do this.”

The place was a total dive. Hell, the doors were barely hanging on their hinges, and there was litter lining the sidewalk. When we got to the door, Hawk put his ear up to it, checking to see if he heard anything. When he didn’t, he gave me a nod, signaling for me to kick the door down. Without a moment’s hesitation, I lifted my foot and slammed it against the rotten wood, splintering it in half as it fell to the floor. Grant was on the bed but shot up the second he spotted us coming into his room. “What the fuck? Who the hell are you?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I reared back my fist and plowed it into his jaw. Unfortunately, he didn’t budge. At six-two and about three-sixty, Grant was a big dude. He had a good hundred pounds on me, but I’d learned a long time ago that in cases like these, size doesn’t matter. Before he had a chance to retaliate, I slammed my fist into him again, only this time in his enormous gut. The wind gushed from his lungs, causing him to topple forward. I continued to plow into him until Hawk called out to me, “Easy there, Widow. Save some for Shotgun.”

I stepped back and took in a couple of deep breaths, then said, “We need to get him loaded up before someone comes.”

“I’ll go get the truck,” Bear volunteered.

As soon as he pulled up to the motel, Hawk and I worked together to get Grant’s big ass in the SUV. Half an hour later he was in Shotgun’s hands. Knowing it’d take some time for him to get the intel we needed, the brothers decided to give him some space and hit the strip club in hopes of blowing off some steam. I decided to use the small window of opportunity to go see Frankie.

Chapter 12

Frankie

I didn’t even know it was happening. I honestly never dreamed it was even a possibility. He wasn’t the kind of man I would’ve ever thought I’d fall for. We were from two different worlds. We had two completely different outlooks on life. Not only was he big and rugged, but he was a member of a dangerous biker club, and his brothers called him Widow. You would think that in itself was enough to have me running for the hills. Even after hearing about his horrific childhood and seeing the anguish in his face as he spoke about his father, I didn’t run. Instead, I found myself even more drawn to him.

I couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was the fact that he too had felt the same soul-crushing sense of helplessness I’d felt for so many years. Maybe that was why the storm that raged inside of me stilled whenever he was near, giving me a sense calm like I’d never known before. He had a way of making my insecurities and doubts fade away. That was enough for me to be drawn to him, but there was more. So much more. The way his dark eyes would lock on me made me feel beautiful and desired, and his touch set me on fire. I had no idea what would come of us or if there ever would be an ‘us’, but I couldn’t deny the hold he had on me.

It had been several days since our conversation at his house, and I hadn’t heard anything from him. No calls. No texts. Nothing. By the time the kids went back to their dad’s, I’d figured he’d decided against taking a chance on us and gave up on hearing from him. I won’t lie. It hurt. It hurt a lot. Hoping to distract myself from the empty, sinking feeling that had taken root in the pit of my stomach, I threw on my favorite pair of sweats, turned on some music, and started cleaning the house. I’d just finished vacuuming and was about to mop the floor when there was a knock at the door. Thinking it was Sydney stopping by, I shouted, “Come on in!”

I started filling my mop bucket with water but quickly turned it off when I heard a man’s voice. “You know, you should keep that front door locked. Otherwise, anyone could just walk right in.”

“Roman?” I whipped around and found him standing in the doorway of my kitchen. He was wearing his black leather jacket with a black fitted t-shirt and jeans, and the very sight of him sent a warm rush surging through my entire body. I straightened my t-shirt as I asked, “What are you doing here?”