Widow's Undoing (Ruthless Sinners MC 4)

I turned my attention back to work and tried my best to not think about the fact that Widow was going to be at my house at five to fix my tire. I also tried not to think about the fact that after he fixed the tire, I’d never see him again—like for real this time. Once that tire was fixed, there would be no reason for us to cross paths again, which I finally managed to convince myself was for the best. With my mind set on keeping things completely platonic with Widow, I finished up my day at work, dropped Sean off at basketball practice, and headed home. As usual, when I got to the house, Corry was in his bedroom and the door was closed. There was a mess in the kitchen, and even more dirty clothes in the laundry room. I had a few minutes before Widow was supposed to arrive, so I started a load of clothes and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I was just finishing wiping down the counters when I heard someone knocking.

As I started towards the door, I wished I’d taken a little time to spruce up a bit. I quickly adjusted my blouse, and when I opened the door, I found Widow standing on the bottom step. He was wearing his leather jacket with a white t-shirt underneath and tattered jeans. His hair was a little disheveled, making me wish I could run my fingers through it. I inhaled a deep breath, doing my best to shake the feeling, then smiled and said, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Let me grab my keys.” I stepped over to the dining room table and slipped my hand into my purse. Once I had my keys, I carried them back over to the front door and down the steps. As I offered them to Widow, I asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. I’ve got it.” He reached over and his hand brushed against mine as he took the keys. It was just a simple touch, but it felt like something more—much more. Widow’s eyes were locked on mine as he told me, “I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

“Okay.”

Before I had a chance to turn and go back inside, Corry came rushing up behind me. He tried to play it cool as he said, “Oh, hey, Widow. I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Widow looked up at me with a sexy smirk. “Just came by to give your mom a hand with that flat tire.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna fix it?”

“Gonna try.”

“Cool.” There was no missing the hopeful sound in his voice as he asked, “Can I help?”

“Absolutely.”

I watched my normally sullen teenage son rush over to Widow with a smile on his face. I couldn’t believe it. The child had not only offered to help with something, but he was also actually smiling about it. I stood on the front steps and watched as Corry followed Widow over to my car. As he opened the trunk, Widow looked down at Corry and then over to me. It was only for a moment, and he didn’t smile or whisper a word, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he understood it was a big deal that Corry had come out there with him. Without any further delay, he and Corry took the tire out of the trunk and carried it over to the tailgate of Widow’s truck and set to work.

When Widow pulled out his air compressor, I figured it was time for me to go in and start on the laundry. As I started putting the dirty clothes in the washing machine, I couldn’t stop thinking about the happy expression I’d seen on Corry’s face. There was a time when he smiled all the time, but lately, he just hadn’t seemed like himself. I hoped the medication the counselor had prescribed would help, but I wasn’t sure it would be enough. The thought had me going over to the window to see if everything was still going well with Corry and Widow. To my relief, Corry was still smiling and talking a mile a minute. Seeing my son look so happy warmed my heart. And I have to say, it had me feeling a little drawn to Widow. He’d given my son something to smile about, and it meant the world to me.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I found myself in the garage, listening in on Corry and Widow’s conversation. I felt a little guilty about eavesdropping on them and was about to go back inside when I heard Corry say, “He’s always on my ass about something. It’s like I can’t do anything right.”

“Been there, brother. It can be tough.”

“Yeah, it can. It’s like he expects me to fuck up.” It broke my heart to hear the anguish in my son’s voice as he told Widow, “I’m just so tired of it. I don’t even wanna try anymore. It’s like...what’s the point? He’s gonna be on my ass no matter what I do.”