Widow's Undoing (Ruthless Sinners MC #4) - L. Wilder Page 0,37
Marc. As soon as he answered, he shouted, “What!”
“Do not spank Sean with that belt, Marc!”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with my boys, Frankie! If I want to spank them, I will!”
“No! You are not to spank the boys! Not now. Not ever! It’s in the court order!”
“You can’t keep me from disciplining my kids! No one can!” he roared. “They lied to me, and now, they’re both going to pay the price for it.”
“And what do you think the judge is going to think about that? You’re almost done with your anger management classes. Clearly, they didn’t help!”
“I wouldn’t have to manage my anger if you hadn’t let them lie to me! This is on you, not me!”
“You’re right. This is my fault, Marc. Don’t take it out on the boys!”
“I will not be lied to, Frankie!”
“I understand that. It won’t happen again. I swear it! Just stop this before you take things too far.”
“These boys need to learn some fucking respect! And so do you! My weekends are my weekends! You do not get to fuck around with my days! Is that understood?”
“Yes, Marc. It’s understood.” I agreed, hoping he would settle down enough to leave the boys alone. “Now, please do not spank Sean with that belt.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he simply hung up the phone, leaving me wondering what the hell he was going to do. I was praying silently to myself as I sent Corry another message.
Me:
I talked to you father. Let me know what happens.
Corry:
He’s so mad.
Corry:
He thinks Sean was the one who lied. I tried to tell him it was me.
Me:
It’s going to be okay, Corry.
Corry:
I should’ve stopped him. It’s my fault. I should’ve done something.
Me:
This isn’t your fault, and you did do something. You messaged me. Everything’s going to be fine.
Corry:
I gotta go. He’s coming.
I spent the next hour having no idea what was going on with Marc and the boys. I was so torn. I desperately wanted to call the police. I thought it was the only way I’d know for sure he wasn’t hurting them like he’d hurt me so many times. Thankfully, after an hour or so, Corry messaged to let me know they were okay. Marc had spanked the boys with the belt. I was about to call the police when Corry assured me that the beating wasn’t too bad, and he hadn’t left any marks on either of them. Once it was all over, Marc sent them to their room for the rest of the night. While I wasn’t happy about any of it, I knew it could’ve been so much worse.
Just thinking about that day had me wanting to smooth things over with Marc as soon as possible. I didn’t want him to lose his temper, so I kept my response short and to the point. “We’re divorced, Marc. And you’re remarried. Who I’m with is none of your business.”
“I don’t give a damn who you’re fucking, Frankie. Never fucking have. Just don’t want you spreading your legs when my boys are around.”
“That’s enough, Marc.”
“I’ll decide when it’s been enough! You keep your garbage away from my boys or you’ll fucking regret it.”
“Don’t threaten me, Marc.”
“Oh, that’s not a threat, baby. That’s a fucking promise,” he growled. “I’ll take those boys so fast your head will spin.”
“There’s no court on the planet that will give you custody of those boys, Marc.”
“You’re wrong about that! I’m married. I have a good job, and I can give them the kind of security you can’t.” I hated to admit it, but his threat worried me a little. It worried me even more when he said, “And Corry was under your watch when he bought dope. Whatcha think the judge would say about that?”
“I’m not having this discussion with you. If you want to take me to court, take me to court, but you are no longer in control of what goes on in my life. I make my own decisions, and they have nothing to do with you. It’s time for you to do the same.”
“Remember what I said. Keep your garbage away from my kids.”
I wasn’t surprised when he hung up. It was what he did when he knew he’d made his point. I tossed my cell phone down on my desk, and it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming. I might’ve been divorced from him, but I would never truly be free of him or his controlling ways—and neither