The Widow and the Will Read Online Free

truck stopped, Ford unclipped his seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride.”
    “Yeah, call me when you get yourself together. I’m going to need you later.”
    “Okay.”
    “Get something to eat. A shower.”
    Ford rolled his eyes mentally. Who’s the older brother here ? “I’ll text you in a couple of hours.”
    Hudson gave him a two-fingered salute and then backed out to leave.
    Ford trudged up the stairs to the studio flat and pulled his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door, hoping his head would stop pounding with some more coffee in his system. That and a handful of Tylenol. Once inside, he sighed and bent over with a groan to pick up the pile of mail on the floor. Sorting through it, he separated a green index-card-sized notice. He had a certified letter waiting for him at the post office to be picked up. Great, another bill I bet . He tossed it on the bed, then shuffled past it and toward the kitchenette to toss the rest of the mail into the trash can next to the two burner stove. He squatted down in front of the small refrigerator and opened it to see if there was anything to eat. A six pack of beer, an old package of salami and packets of hot sauce from Taco Bell. He grabbed the lunchmeat and was assailed by the smell of rot when he peeled back the cover.
    “Shit.”
    He tossed it into the garbage on top of the junk mail and then listened to the popping sound coming from his knees as he stood up. Ford looked around, suddenly wondering where his cell phone was. There, on the counter, charging, where he’d left it when Joe arrived the night before. Flicking the screen to life, he saw eight missed calls, five voicemails, and a dozen texts. Some from various women he had sort of dated, a couple from Hudson and, most disturbingly, from his parole officer.
    “Great,” he muttered.
    He deleted the voicemails and skimmed the texts. Luckily, he hadn’t missed his scheduled appointment with his PO. The woman was only calling to remind him about the upcoming meeting. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he still had two hours to make it. He damned well better, seeing as it was the last one he’d ever have. How he’d managed to keep his felony conviction and prison time a secret from Hudson, Ford would never know. He didn’t plan on fucking that up now. He’d make his appointment and hopefully finish putting the past behind him.
    Ford leaned against the only countertop space and rubbed his face with his hands. Just another hangover in a long string of overindulgent nights. He knew his lifestyle was hazardous and would eventually come back to bite him in the ass, but he didn’t have the willpower to stop all his bad habits. Not then, anyway.
    It if weren’t for Hudson, he probably would have been dead by now. When they were kids, his little brother was his focus and what kept him out of trouble. But he didn’t need looking after anymore and now the roles seemed to be reversing themselves. The more debauchery Ford committed, the more scrapes Hudson pulled him out of. Deep inside he was guilty and ashamed for not having done something more with his life, but on the surface Ford just couldn’t bring himself to care. It would probably be better if he died. Then Hudson wouldn’t have to watch him toss his life into the toilet.
    Shaking his head, Ford decided a shower was more important than coffee. The tiny bathroom was kitty corner from the kitchenette and he crossed the room to it in only a half a dozen steps. He turned on the hot water full blast and stripped naked, tossing his filthy clothes into a pile near the doorway.
    As he let the scalding water ease his aching muscles, Ford tried to remember what he had done the night before. His buddy Joe had picked him up around eight or so, but almost everything after that was a blur. Many shots and many beers had followed. They might have played some pool. They might have even bar hopped a little. “I’m still going to kick your ass for dumping me at the office.”