Page 20

“Glad to hear it,” he says in the least joyful tone possible. “Are you guys looking for recruits or not?”

“Maybe.” I study him harder. “You really want to jump clubs?”

“Told you, ain’t gonna have a club pretty soon.” He shrugs. “We were always good with Lost Kings. I like your club’s structure. You still take riding seriously. Ulfric always had a lot of respect for Rock. Seems like it would be a solid fit.”

I’m sure somewhere in the history of the Lost Kings MC, someone might have patched-in from another club. I’ve never heard anyone talk about it, though.

“You know you’d have to scrape your club ink if you jump.” With his long-sleeved shirt, no Wolf Knights insignias are visible but I’d bet my bike he has at least one.

He nods like he expected that and rolls up his left sleeve, revealing a faded black wolf head with Wolf Knights scribbled like an afterthought over the wolf’s ears. Some truly hideous line work.

“My prez said either way, I gotta do it before I leave. Got this.” He pats his arm and then his chest. “And another one incorporated into a larger piece here. I’ll probably laser this one and cover the other one.”

Makes sense.

“I got no idea if they’ll make you prospect the full term or?—”

“I don’t care,” he cuts in fast. “I’m not looking for special favors. I want to earn my full patch same way everyone else does. Want my new club to trust me—not worry that my loyalties might be somewhere else.”

That’s a good sign. Not a lot of guys who’ve been officers in a club want to get busted back to prospect.

“All right, yeah. Since we’re all here, you want to talk to Wrath?” Wrath knew Hudson’s old president pretty well. It makes sense for Upstate’s SAA to start Hudson’s vetting process.

“You rang?” Wrath’s voice booms through the corridor like a cannon.

He walks up, slaps a heavy hand on my shoulder and eyes Hudson for a second. “Was wondering where you disappeared to.”

I jerk my chin toward Hudson. “Talking to Hudson.”

Wrath nods and shakes his hand. “How’ve you been? It’s been a minute.”

Hudson meets Wrath’s stare head-on and shakes his hand without wincing. “Can’t complain.”

You literally just complained that your charter is closing.

“Actually,” I say, drawing out the word to grab their attention. “Hudson might be interested in trading in his patch for a skull and crown.”

Wrath’s whole vibe switches from conversational to hardened enforcer. He crosses his arms, body going still, face hardening into that quiet, lethal calm he’s famous for. “That right?”

To his credit, Hudson doesn’t flinch under Wrath’s scrutiny. Doesn’t even blink.

He nods once, then runs through the shorter version of the pitch he gave me. Wrath cocks his head, listening intently or running background checks in real-time behind his cold eyes—who knows.

“Yo, Hudson!” Merlin’s voice cuts through the hallway. “Get over here.”

“You sticking around for a bit after the funeral?” Wrath asks Hudson.

“Planning to stay with my mom for a few days. Help her out. Hang with my niece and nephew.”

Wrath nods once—quick, like he wasn’t asking for Hudson’s whole itinerary. “Stop by Furious any afternoon. We’ll talk more.”

“All right.” Hudson hold out his hand. “Thanks.” He nods at me next. “Thanks, Jigsaw.”

“Sure.”

Wrath’s attention stays locked on Hudson until he’s around the corner, then he turns to me. He flicks his gaze to the stairs. “What’s up there?”

“Second floor is where her cousin lives. And a kid’s playroom I think? I’ve never really explored it.” No, I’m always in a hurry to hide out at Margot’s place and get my hands all over her. “Margot’s place is up on the third floor.”

He glances over his shoulder and must decide this is a secure enough place to talk. “What’s your thought?”

“I have lots of thoughts. Be more specific.”

His eyes narrow to pissed-off slits. “On Hudson.”

“Uh, I barely know him.”

“Why’d he come to you, then?”

I tap my patch. “He said RC to RC but I’m not sure.”

“We should all sit down for church tomorrow anyway,” Wrath says. “Share details we learned here today. We can talk about Hudson then. Get everyone’s take.”

What details did we learn today? “Yeah, all right.”

“You staying here tonight?”

I shift my gaze to the side. “Not sure yet.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t pick up on my hesitation and ask about my situation with Margot. “I’ll tell Rock noon for church?”

No one’s ever asked me for scheduling input before. “Whenever you need me. I’ll be there.”

Wrath’s attention shifts to the hallway where a steady stream of guests are moving toward the back doors. “I think they’re gettin’ ready to head to the cemetery. I told Ulfric Kings would take up last position.”

“I didn’t expect anything else.”

“Good.” He claps me on the shoulder and heads off down the hall.

I hang back for a second. Then I make my way toward the front parlor, threading through the stragglers, searching for Margot.

She’s standing near the front door by the guest book. Shoulders tight with her warm, professional smile plastered in place as she gently guides the last few guests where they need to go. Ulfric stops to talk to her, resting his hand on her shoulder for a moment.

I close my eyes and force myself not to picture my fist going through his throat. This knee-jerk rage that shoots through me every time another man gets close to Margot should be studied by scientists.

I wait until she’s alone, then step into her space.

At least this time she doesn’t look like she wants to waterboard some answers out of me. No, she looks tired.

I lean down, keeping my voice low enough for her alone. “I wanted to tell you earlier—you look really pretty today.”

Her smile falters for half a second. “You can’t fix things with an empty compliment.”

Ouch.

“But thank you.” There’s no bite to her tone this time. Just weariness twisted with affection.

I don’t deserve her.

Someone props the back door open, and I catch a glimpse of a black Harley trike with a black carriage behind it. Fuuuck. I was supposed to help Margot find that hearse funeral chopper setup and I totally bailed on her.

I shift, uncomfortable now that I’ve been reminded how badly I dropped the ball on something so simple. “You found one?” I nod toward the parking lot.

She tilts her head, glancing up at me. “Yes, thank you for the notes you left. They were helpful.”

If it were anyone else, I’d assume they were being sarcastic, but Margot seems sincere. Grateful even. She’s too sweet to tell me what a fuckup I am.

Wait until you tell her about Cain.

I shove that thought aside for the moment.

The hallway’s almost empty now. Outside, a motorcycle starts up. “You have earplugs?” I ask.

She slips her hand inside her pocket and pulls out a small, round purple case. “Yup.”

“Is the graveside service going to be long?”

“Probably. There were a few additional requests.”

I glance at the back door again. “I should probably get out there…” I don’t want to leave her side, though.

She leans up on her tiptoes and beckons me closer to whisper, “They asked guests to wear black and gray.”

Wolf Knight colors.

I run my gaze over her prim dark gray suit and silver blouse. She’s even wearing gray, low-heeled pumps.

“Usually, I would as well,” she says. “We try to fit in if the family has a ‘theme’ or requests certain attire but it felt wrong when blue and gray are the colors of my man’s club.”

The possessive way she refers to me as “her man” travels straight to my balls. I’m going straight to hell, not even a pit stop in purgatory. Even when she’s pissed at me, she’s worried about something like my club’s colors?

“But I didn’t want to antagonize a client, either.” She lifts her hand, tucking her hair behind her ear, showing off sparkling blue stones set in shiny white gold. “So, I’m wearing my sapphire earrings.”

I’m going to bury my face between her legs tonight and lick her clit until I’m drowning in her.

As if she senses exactly where my thoughts ran off to, a devilish smile curls her lips. “And blue undergarments.”

Fuuuck me. “Why are you trying to get me hard at a funeral?” I whine like a horny teenager. If we were anywhere else, I’d push the collar of her blouse aside to confirm. “You’re a naughty girl.”

“Who said they were for you?” she tosses over her shoulder, already walking away.

“You know damn well they’re for me,” I call after her.

She doesn’t turn around, but I swear I catch the faintest shake of her shoulders—like she’s laughing.

I hope she keeps that energy for our conversation later.

I hang back a second, then shove my hands in my pockets and head outside.

Rock and Teller are waiting on one end of the porch.

“Everything good?” I ask.

“Yeah.” Rock nods and steps away from the railing. “Girls are in the car out front. We’re just waitin’ up here until they sort out some stuff.”

I glance at the parking lot. Wrath and Dex are talking to Ulfric and another guy with a Wolf Knights cut. Mr. Cedarwood’s hovering near the trike, inspecting the casket’s placement. Margot’s nowhere in sight.

Finally, Wrath signals he’s ready for us.

The three of us clomp down the stairs.

The sky’s overcast and chilly.

I squint up at the clouds. “As long as it doesn’t rain, it’s a good day to ride.”

Rock nods, distracted, his mind clearly somewhere else.

Wrath and Dex catch up to us.

“All good?” I ask Dex.

“Yeah, we offered to help close off one of the roads, but Mr. Cedarwood said it’s handled.”

“So, we’re just following the pack?”

“Pretty much.”

“All right, brother.” I tap my knuckles against Dex’s.

I swing my leg over my bike and settle into the seat. The lot’s so full I can barely make out the trike hearse or the black car behind it.

Margot’s up there somewhere. Probably in the car with Whisper’s daughter. Some of the Wolf Knights’ ol’ ladies are on the backs of bikes. Hell, a small group of women are riding solo.

That’ll never be Margot.

It doesn’t matter. Charlotte and Hope are driving to the cemetery, and so are some of the other ol’ ladies. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ll never try to talk her into something that scares her so much, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about having her at my back.

I pull on my helmet and fire up the engine about the same time everyone else does. The sudden, unified rumble drowns out my thoughts, but not the ache in my chest.