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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jigsaw

I stare at the screen after the call ends. Shit. Why didn’t I say more? Promise to come see her tonight. Or at least make a plan for when I’m going to see her again.

I have no idea how long I’ll be with Cain this afternoon. That’s why. Or what kind of mood I’ll be in when we’re done. If I act like a dick to her again, she’ll probably kick me to the curb for good.

I slip the phone into my pocket and lean against the metal shelving unit bolted to the garage wall.

Something shifts above me.

Clatter.

A box of air filters smacks my shoulder before bouncing off and hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Fan-fucking-tastic . Even the shelves want to punish me for being an asshole.

I pick up the box and stick it on the shelf.

The earth-shattering rumble of a diesel pick-up finally stops, then a bike’s engine cuts off.

Pretty sure I know who just showed up, but I walk out to confirm.

Rooster’s big diesel pickup sits on one side of my bike.

I walk around it to meet him and find him getting off his bike on the other side.

“Who?” I frown and glance at the truck.

The driver’s side opens tentatively and one jean-covered, cowboy-booted foot slides down, toes touching the running board.

“I did it!” Shelby shouts, jumping from the cab of the truck and landing on the pavement with a thud. “Comin’ up the driveway and making that turn was a doozy.”

Rooster’s grinning from ear to ear. “Good job, chickadee.” He rounds the bike and scoops her up, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

I clear my throat. “What in the devil’s uncut dick is happening here?”

Shelby draws back, eyes wide, and bursts into laughter. “What?”

Rooster sets her down but keeps an arm around her. “Good morning to you, too.”

I hold out my hands, palms up, and raise my eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

“You know I hate driving the truck. It’s so dang big.

” Shelby scowls at Rooster’s bike. “But it’s colder than a polar bear’s balls, so I didn’t want to ride.

And Rooster had some stuff to haul up here, anyway.

” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder.

“So I wrangled this beast like a badass.” She slaps her hand against the side of the truck.

Leave it Shelby to pull laughter out of me when I’m feeling shitty. “Yeah, you did. Good job, songbird.”

Rooster squints. “What’s up with you? Why so early?”

I shrug and jam my hands in my pockets.

“Brrr.” Shelby hugs her arms around herself. “Y’all can gab out here. I’m gonna go inside and get some tea or somethin’.”

They engage in yet another long, slow kiss. I turn away, staring at the house.

Something soft touches my arm. “You all right today, Jiggy?” Shelby asks.

I peer down at her and nod.

“Margot come with you?”

I’m not scared of the ass-kicking Shelby threatened to give me if I screwed things up with Margot, as much as I’d like to avoid seeing the disappointment in Shelby’s eyes. “No, she’s got a funeral today.”

“Phew, that must get depressing.”

“You fix things there?” Rooster asks.

Thanks a lot, dick.

Shelby’s eyes narrow. “Oh, yeah. Why was she lookin’ for ya?”

I blow out an irritated breath and glare at Rooster. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell her.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to.” He shrugs.

Shelby stares up at him, then me, her expression darkening. “Tell me what?”

“Not what you’re thinking.” I cut that off before she even says it.

Christ, how do I put this into words without diving into the entire story?

Shelby’s had enough ugly things happen in her life; she doesn’t need my dark past in her head.

“I, uh, have a younger half-brother who showed up, looking to reconnect. Kinda threw me. Still dealing with it.”

“Well, shoot. Really?” Her eyes widen. “I didn’t know. That’s wild. Is he older or younger than Jezzie?”

Shit. I can’t have her telling Jezzie before I have a chance to. “Younger. But neither of us have seen him in years. It’s complicated. Please don’t say anything to her yet. I…I need to figure out what he wants first.”

She frowns. “You think he’s dangerous?”

“Maybe.”

Shelby blinks and stares at me as that sinks in. “Of course I wouldn’t go blabbin’ your business unless you told me it was okay. I won’t say a thing.” She swipes her finger over her chest in an X. “Promise, bestie.”

A genuine smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Thanks.”

“When do we get to meet him?” She glances up at Rooster. “Or have you already met him?” There’s no venom in her question. No quiet scolding that Rooster knew about this but didn’t share the info with her.

Rooster’s intense gaze is focused on me, but I can’t figure out what message he’s trying to burn into my skull. “Just once, years ago,” he says.

“Funny story, songbird,” I say, ignoring Rooster’s mood shift. “Being on tour with you is how he found me . His mom saw my picture in one of those gossip rags that love publishing pics of you and your biker entourage.”

She hoots with laughter. “Well, damn, look at me. The family reunion maker.” Her laughter abruptly stops. “Shoot. I sure hope my dad doesn’t find me the same way.”

Rooster and I have already discussed how we’ll handle it if he ever does show his face.

“Do ya guys look alike?” she asks.

“Z seemed to think so.”

She reaches out and squeezes my arm. “Well, I hope everything works out. If you need help talkin’ to Jezzie or something, let me know.”

I’m not sure how that would help, but it’s a nice offer. “I will, thanks.”

“And I hope you’re bringing Margot around again, soon?” She glances up at Rooster. “You really should have her over to the house. She hasn’t even seen your place yet. Rooster can show off his fancy new grill.”

“Yeah, I want to. She’s always on call, though. So it’s hard to get away.”

“You’re okay staying there?”

“Yeah, her place is nice.” I slap Rooster’s arm. “He saw it. She’s not keeping me in cold storage or anything.”

Shelby’s lips turn up slightly. “Okay. Well, we just miss ya.”

Behind her, Rooster shakes his head and mouths, Nah.

“Thanks, songbird,” I say, ignoring Rooster.

Her concerned eyes study me for a few more beats. “Don’t disappear on us after church today, okay? Heidi and I are making banana pancakes.” She holds her hand up and twists her middle finger over her index. “Prayin’ we don’t make a big ol’ mess.”

“I’m sure you won’t”

Rooster keeps his eyes on her the whole time she crosses the lot and skips up the steps into the clubhouse, so I don’t bother saying anything until the door closes behind her.

“Thanks for keeping that under wraps,” I say.

“I don’t know why I bother since you tell her everything anyway.” The corner of his mouth turns up for a second, then he frowns and fixes his concerned brother eyes on me. “Why so gloomy today?”

The scrutiny feels too heavy, and I take a step away from him. “What’re you talking about?”

“No motherclucker jokes.” He squints at me. “No devilish gleam in your eyes.”

“Jeeezus Christ.” I roll my eyes skyward. “You startin’ to write songs with Shelby now? Devilish gleam? What the fuck?”

He grins and claps me on the back. “That’s better. But seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He moves around me and lowers the tailgate of his truck. “Help me unload this. Maybe it’ll loosen your tongue.”

“Unload what?” I move closer, peering into the bed of the truck.

He flips the hard cover back, revealing neat stacks of white and blue bags. “Salt. Remember the giant palette I got that deal on? I said I’d bring some up for Z. He’s out.”

“Already?” I lean in and start dragging the twenty-five-pound bags to the edge of the tailgate. “Uh, I’m not carrying these all the way back there.”

“Well, that path isn’t big enough. I’m not scratching the shit out of my truck.”

“What a drama queen.” I jerk my thumb toward the garage. “The UTV’s in there, let me get it.”

Actually, there’s more than one outdoor vehicle in here.

If it’s parked in the main garage, it’s gotta be for any brother to use, right?

The labels on each set of keys leads me to believe the answer is yes.

Christ, if Dex is maintaining all these additional vehicles for the club, then I’ve really been slacking on my road captain duties.

We only have one old shitty UTV downstate that I change the oil in, maybe rotate the tires—if I remember—like once every six months.

Might be time to give it more than a half-assed once-over before someone blows the engine.

I grab the set for a Polaris Ranger and start it up. The bed’s small, we’ll probably have to make more than one trip. But that beats carrying five hundred pounds of salt through the woods.

I roll the UTV around to the back of Rooster’s truck and kill the engine. He has more bags lined up and waiting on the tailgate, and slow claps his hands at me like I’m the one holding up progress.

“You’re lucky I like you,” I mutter, jumping out and tossing a couple bags into the Ranger’s bed.

He snorts. “Nah, I’m lucky you’re avoiding whatever’s crawling around in your skull today.”

I don’t take the bait. Just grab another bag, toss it, repeat.

We run out of room in the UTV about halfway through.

“Let’s drop this off and come get the rest,” he says, climbing into the Ranger.

I slide into the driver’s seat and fire it up. The growl of the engine hopefully loud enough to discourage Rooster from talking.

“You fight with Margot?” he asks once I maneuver onto the path in the woods.

I hit the brake hard, throwing him forward. He slams his hand against the dash, turns and glares at me. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Oopsie, didn’t want to run over that squirrel.”

“Squirrel my ass. What happened? You held it together in front of Shelby but you’re being moody as fuck.”

“I’m always moody as fuck.”

“This is different.”

I glance over at him. “I didn’t fight with her.”

“Okay.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I know he’s not done. “You ghosted her again?”