Widow's Undoing (Ruthless Sinners MC 4)

Delilah leaned across the table as she teased, “I tried to tell her that she’d get used to all the boobs, but I’m not sure she believed me.”

After a round of laughter, Remington leaned over to me and said, “Alcohol helps a lot. After a shot of tequila or two, you won’t even notice all the boobs and perfect asses anymore.”

“Makes sense.” I leaned over to Roman and whispered, “I’m going to need a shot. Maybe two.”

“You got it.”

When he motioned over to the waitress, Delilah announced, “I’m going to need one, too.”

“Me, too,” Remington chimed in.

It was good to know I wasn’t the only one who needed a little desensitizing. After Roman ordered our drinks, Menace looked over to Country and said, “Hey, why don’t you tell the guys about your little run-in with Viper?”

“Thought you weren’t gonna tell anybody about that shit?”

“I’m not.” Menace smirked as he pushed, “You are.”

“I’m too fucking traumatized to talk about it.” Country ran his hand over his face. “After what I saw, I may never be right again.”

Rafe gave him a puzzled look as he asked, “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“I saw Viper’s...you know....”

“Nah, not sure that I do.”

“His one-eyed snake.” Country’s face grew pale as he leaned in and whispered, “He stepped out of his room at the clubhouse, and for whatever reason, he was naked as the day is long. I was just minding my own fucking business and going to get some fuckin’ coffee when I got an eye full.”

“Wait! You’re saying you saw his goods?” Marlowe asked, sounding intrigued. “His long John? His penetrator?”

Remington was next to chime in. “His shlong? His...ah....man meat?”

“Ooohh...his wooly mammoth?” Delilah teased. “His looo-ve muscle!”

I might’ve thrown in my own commentary, but I was laughing too hard to even speak. I could only sit there and listen as they continued throwing out different nicknames for their president’s manhood. When they finally got stumped and couldn’t come up with any more, Marlowe turned to him and said, “Well, you still haven’t told us why it was so traumatizing.”

“’Cause the damn thing looked like a fucking tallboy...policeman’s flashlight from the 1980’s...damn near a five-dollar foot long.” He shook his head and grumbled, “I’m telling ya, I think we should’ve called him King Cobra instead of Viper.”

“I think we got the picture, brother,” Rafe chuckled. “Thanks for sharing. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at Prez the same again.”

“I know I won’t,” Country mumbled. “That shit scarred me for life.”

Another round of laughter ensued, but quickly died down when Danny approached the table. I hadn’t seen him since the night I’d picked Corry up from the clubhouse. He’d seemed like such a friendly, easygoing guy at the time, but as he sat down at the table, he looked like he’d seen better days. There were faint bruises under his eyes, much like the light bruise I still had from where Marc had punched me—only my concealer had worked wonders to hide mine. Country gave him a pat on the shoulder as he asked, “How you making it, brother?”

“I thought my roughed-up look might give me an advantage with the ladies, but it hasn’t helped for shit.” He took one of the tequila shots from the table and quickly downed it. “I mean, damn. What’s a man gotta do to get laid around here?”

“Maybe if you were packing like Viper then you’d have better luck,” Country grumbled. “Hell, we all would. We’d have to beat the bitches off with a fucking stick.”

Danny’s brows furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ignore him, man,” Rafe replied. “He’s still recovering from a traumatic event. Might even have a little PTSD.”

“Not sure I’m following.”

“Probably best that you don’t.” Rafe took a sip of his beer as he told him, “Just give it time. Things will change when you get your patch.”

“God, I hope so.”

Everyone continued to banter back and forth, and even though I was loving every minute of it, I needed to get back. I’d promised Sydney I’d only be gone a few hours, and I had to get up early for work. I leaned over to Roman and whispered, “I really need to get going.”

“Okay. I’ll take you home.”

“You don’t have to leave. I can...”

“I’m taking you home, Frankie.” With that he stood and announced, “We gotta get going.”

“So soon?” Marlowe complained.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I hate to rush off, but I’ve gotta get back home to the boys.”

“Okay. We’ll get together again soon,” Marlowe promised.

“I’d really like that.” I gave them all a quick wave as I said, “I really enjoyed tonight. I’ll see you all again soon.”

“Looking forward to it.” Remington smiled as she said, “You make a great addition to the group.”

“Thanks, Remington. That means a lot.”

Roman and I said our final goodbyes, then headed out to his bike. When we got home, the boys were in the living room watching TV with Sydney. They were so enthralled with their scary movie they didn’t even notice when she got up to leave. Roman and I nestled up on the sofa and finished the movie with them. It seemed so easy, so natural, being there with him. It continued to feel that way over the next few months. Roman had quickly become a fixture in our lives, and the boys truly seemed to enjoy having him there, especially Corry. Between the continued counseling and the time he’d spent with Roman, he was really coming out of his shell.