Page 29 of Scatter the Bones (Lost Kings MC #26)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Margot

Jigsaw’s communication issues are really starting to piss me off.

I woke up alone. No “goodbye, see ya later” written on a crappy Post-it Note to be found anywhere in my apartment.

I don’t have time to be annoyed with him.

Not when I have a funeral to prepare. Still, the empty side of the bed gnaws at me while I get dressed and hurry downstairs.

My mind races ahead, going over the checklist—flowers, music, seating.

All the things I need to do before the family arrives. No time for distractions.

Why’d I have to push him about his brother again last night? I should’ve let it go. He opened up to me about so many things yesterday. He’s probably up in Maine again. Or maybe this time he kept riding. Maybe he’s on a fishing boat in Nova Scotia by now.

I’m finishing the floral arrangements when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I wipe my hands on my apron and check the screen.

Jigsaw.

My heart jumps. But my stomach tumbles. My thumb hovers over the green icon on the screen. Should I let it go to voicemail? Let him sweat, thinking that I’m mad at him?

One tap and I’ll hear his voice. Make sure he’s okay.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Hi.” He blows out a breath, like he’d been worried I might not answer. “You get up on time?”

“I had my alarm set.” I tuck the phone between my cheek and shoulder, rearranging a spray of lilies. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t counting on you to wake me.”

He lets out a short huff of laughter. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about…stuff.”

“You could’ve woken me up to talk about it.” The words come out softer than I mean them to. Too close to pleading.

“I didn’t want to unload any more stuff on you. Just needed to clear my head.”

“Where’d you end up this time? Canada?” It comes out sharp and I instantly regret it.

“No. I’m at the clubhouse.”

Well, at least that’s something. Maybe his club brothers can help him sort through things better than I can. It still stings, though.

“Good,” I murmur, trying to be supportive and hide my hurt.

“I, uh, thought about what you said. A lot.”

My stomach clenches. I said a lot of things. This isn’t a goodbye call, is it?

“And I’m meeting up with Cain today. After church. I’ll talk to him about the job, apartment, see what his plans are and stuff…”

Relief washes through me so fast I forget to breathe.

I press my hand to my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my blouse. That couldn’t have been easy for him.

He’s doing it anyway.

“I’m glad,” I say. “Really. That’s great. I know it’s hard. I… I’m proud of you.”

The words are out before I can stop them. God, I wish I could see his face right now. Gauge his reaction.

He’s quiet for a second. “Nah, you were right.” Another pause. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything. Listening to me.” He lets out a short, self-deprecating scoff. “Answering the phone now.”

My throat tightens, but before I can respond, a dozen motorcycle engines roar to life in the background, drowning out everything else.

“Hang on,” he yells. “Let me go in the garage.”

“No, it’s okay,” I say quickly, raising my voice in case he can’t hear me. “I have to finish setting up anyway. And I need to talk to my dad about a few things.”

The background noise fades a little, like he ducked into a quieter spot. “All right. I’ll… I’ll catch you later, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” I hesitate, wishing I could see his face, reach through the line, touch him. “Be careful.”

“I will.” A breath. “Margot?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The line clicks. Silence wraps around me, thicker than before.

I tuck the phone into my pocket, my chest tight, and force my feet to move.

There’s still so much work to do.

It’s not until I’m brushing the final touches of blush on Mrs. Beckett’s cheeks that it hits me—we never said when we’ll see each other again.