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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jigsaw

After a lot of chatter and greetings we’re finally all seated at the war room table. Minus Rav and Butcher.

Rock smacks his gavel down, silencing the room.

“Let’s make this short today,” Rock says.

“Banana pancakes are waiting,” Murphy adds.

Ignoring him, Rock turns toward Wrath. “You want to start?”

Wrath’s gaze lands on me for some reason. “Jiggy actually has the most interesting news.”

All eyes land on me.

I do?

“But I’ll go first,” Wrath continues. “Things went smoothly yesterday. No issues at the funeral. Ulfric appreciated the support.” He glances at Dex. “I hear you had some problems at CB?”

Dex leans forward, clasping his hands on the table. “Eh, it was annoying but understandable. Ulfric took care of it.”

“Wait, what was it?” Birch asks.

Dex rolls his eyes and blows out an irritated breath. “Some of Ulfric’s guys assumed the after-after-party at CB meant just because the drinks and food were comped, they didn’t have to tip any of the dancers. Ulfric took care of it, but it was awkward for?—”

“Yeah, no,” Z cuts in. “You’re being too generous. Whole world knows—even if everything else is on the house, you still tip the girls at a strip club.”

“You’re telling me Ulfric got jacked up for the funeral and the after-parties?” Grinder scoffs, shaking his head. “And he ain’t even prez anymore.”

“We footed the bill for the food and drinks at Remy’s place,” Wrath points out, folding his arms over his chest.

“Goodwill gesture,” Rock says. “And hopefully a final farewell.”

“Amen to that,” Wrath mutters, then nods to Teller. “Did Charlotte’s uncle vacate the area?”

“Thank fuck, yes,” Teller confirms. “Made some noise about wanting to meet the twins, which would’ve been a hell no from Charlotte. But then he ended up dipping early. Called from the road and said ‘next time.’”

“Good riddance,” Murphy grumbles.

“Exactly.”

“He was the worst offender with the non-tipping,” Dex says.

Teller points to his blank expression, one eyebrow raised just slightly. “This is my shocked face,” he says, voice dry as dust. “He’s always been a piece of shit.”

Dex snorts. “Well, Rav and Butcher are staying at the other clubhouse until all the Wolf Knights are gone.”

“Good call,” Rock says, then he focuses on me. “Let’s hear your news.”

Fuck me sideways, why am I getting so much damn attention lately? “Uh, Hudson approached me at the funeral.” I sit forward, resting my elbows on the table. “He’s interested in possibly patching over. Stitching a skull and crown on his back.”

Rock stares at me.

Teller scowls.

No one at that end of the table seems receptive to this news.

I glance at the other end. Z gives me a wide-eyed, please continue look.

“He says Wolf Knights are probably disbanding. Not enough guys in their other charters. He wants to move home anyway. His family’s here.

” I try to give only the facts that Hudson relayed to me.

There’ll be time to offer my opinions later.

“Said he always liked our club and the way we run things. Didn’t have a problem with prospecting again.

Already knows he’ll have to get rid of his Wolf Knight ink and has a plan for it. ”

Did I cover everything?

“Interesting.” Rock glances at Teller. “Thoughts?”

“Oh.” I raise my hand to get Rock’s attention before Teller shoots this down. “He says he’s got approval from his current prez.”

“Thank you, Jigsaw,” Rock says.

“Why’d he come to you?” Teller asks.

I’d had the same question, so I try to ignore the disbelief dripping from Teller’s voice. “Because we’re both road captains. That’s what he said at first.” My lips twist into a smirk. “He was also concerned you think he has the hots for Charlotte, or she wants?—”

“Yeah, no.” Teller rolls his eyes. “I haven’t thought about him at all since the last time we ran into him.”

“It’s not like we don’t need more bodies,” Z remarks. “If he doesn’t have a problem with prospecting again after serving as an officer, that’s a good sign.”

“I thought so too,” I agree.

“I’ll contact his current prez,” Wrath offers. “Make sure he’s really okay with it. I know another Wolf Knight I’ll reach out to and ask about him.”

“I’m not calling Merlin to ask,” Teller says quickly as if he needs to cut that idea off before it’s spoken. “One, I don’t trust his opinion on anything. And two, I don’t want him to get the idea that patching over is an option for him .”

“Absolutely-the-fuck-not,” Wrath growls.

“I wasn’t going to suggest otherwise,” Rock replies coolly, fixing his steely eyes on his son. “You have any strong feelings on this?”

Teller shrugs. “Not really. Charlotte knew him when they were kids. Never had anything bad to say about him. He’s always been respectful.” He lifts his chin at Wrath. “I’ll wait to see what the big guy finds out and base my vote on that.”

“Anything else?” Rock asks, glancing around the table.

Wrath raises his hand. “Remy’s setting up that welcome home party for Griff. I think most of us should at least stop by.”

Murphy rubs his hands together like he’s conjuring an evil leprechaun. “Can’t wait to roast his ass over that fuckin’ reality show. Goddamn embarrassing.”

“He was just trying to make some coin,” Wrath drawls, stroking his chin. “Not all of us have pots o’ gold stashed in our wee ginger beards.”

Laughter erupts around the table. Even Murphy cracks up.

“Okay, fair.” Murphy lifts his hands in surrender. “Hell, I probably would’ve done it too when I was his age.”

“All right, simmer down.” Rock knocks his knuckles against the table and glances at Wrath. “Why do you want us there?”

“We need to tag team Griff at the party,” Wrath suggests.

Birch raises his hand. “Uh, I don’t swing that way.”

“No need to take Rav’s place in the saying-stupid-shit department just because he’s not here,” Wrath warns, dismissing him and returning to his original point.

“I’m sure Griff plans to train at Sully’s gym but I want him at Furious.

At least part-time. Get my gym a little shout-out on fight night.

Dex, Jigsaw, Rooster, suss out what else he needs. ”

“He’ll need more than two people with him in Vegas,” Rooster says. “Those fighters roll deep. He’s new to that scene. The guy he’s going up against is trash. They’ll definitely try to fuck with him at the press conferences and stuff. Rattle him before the fight.”

Wrath knocks his fists together. “I’d love a motherfucker to test me.”

“We don’t need anyone getting arrested in Vegas,” Rock warns.

Wrath’s mouth slides into a smirk. “They’d have to catch me first.”

“You are incredibly fast for such a big fucker,” Z says.

“So.” Wrath’s gaze drifts down the table. “Who’s ready to do some damage in Vegas?”

His eyes stop on me, one eyebrow raised. Pretty sure that’s not a question.

“Fuck, yeah. I already said I’m in.”

Dex shakes his head. “I hate Vegas. I already told you, I’ll watch the bar for Remy while he’s gone.”

Wrath nods. “Make sure you tell him that.”

Bricks leans forward. “I’ll cover CB for you.”

“Thanks,” Dex says.

“As much as I’d like to support the kid,” Grinder says. “I’m not comfortable leaving Serena and Lincoln for that long.” He hurries to add, “For something that’s not strictly club-related.”

“Understandable.” Wrath nods.

“If I can do something else to help out here, I will,” Grinder offers.

Rooster lifts his hand, catching Wrath’s attention. “You already know Shelby and I are in.”

A chorus of ooooos goes around the table.

“Planning to get hitched there?” Dex asks.

“Nooo,” Rooster says slowly, barely hiding his irritation. “Shelby still wants to get married here .” He grits his teeth. “Although, there’s apparently talk about having a second ‘public’ wedding in Tennessee.”

Say what? “Talk with who?” I ask.

He cocks his head at me, pure sarcasm in his eyes. “Who do you think?”

“Dawson?” I raise my eyebrows. “What the fuck does he care where you get married?”

“I’m assuming for the publicity,” Grinder says in a dry tone.

“Indeed,” Rooster agrees.

“Uh.” Wrath leans forward. “You realize if you have an event like that in Tennessee, Deadbranch and National will expect an invite.”

Rooster nods slowly. “You know Dawson. He doesn’t care. He’s met a lot of those guys. Likes ‘em.”

Hustler lets out a belly laugh. “He probably thinks hanging with bikers gives him street cred.”

“That part,” Rooster agrees, pointing at Hustler. “I don’t give a fuck. He’s paying for whatever party happens in Tennessee.”

I open my mouth to ask if letting Dawson bankroll his wedding makes him feel like a cuck—then snap it shut. That’s a question to needle him with when we’re alone.

Rooster thinks Dawson’s harmless. No doubt the guy’s boosted Shelby’s career and thrown me a few fat stacks of cash to run security on tour.

But I still don’t completely trust the guy.

He ever does anything to mess with Rooster and Shelby, or hurts her in any way, I’m throwing his poser country-boy ass straight into the nearest wood chipper.

“It’s not a ‘real’ wedding,” Rooster says, curling his fingers into air quotes. “Just a big party. The part that matters is happening in New York with club and family only .”

Z nods with approval. “You tryin’ to plan this ‘party’ close to National, so we’re not making two runs down south in one year?”

Rooster side-eyes him. “Uh, sure, Prez.”

Wrath slides a sneaky gaze Rock’s way. “Hopefully, it’ll be the last run we’re making to Mississippi for our National meeting.”

Rock glares at him. “Bite your motherfucking tongue.”

“What?” Wrath raises two innocent blond eyebrows. “Who said anything about New York? We could be riding to Virginia instead.”

Dex ducks his head, his shoulders shaking. “What’s wrong, Prez? The other day you were fine with it.”

“ Fine is a stretch,” Rock says. “It’s the timeline that I object to. We’re not ready to take over that responsibility, yet.”

“Why not?” Grinder frowns. “We got plenty of places for people to stay. And if you don’t want ‘em here, there are more than enough hotels in the area. Campgrounds. We can figure it out.”

“Thank you,” Rock says in the least thankful tone ever. “Since you’re so passionate about the subject, I nominate you for the party planning committee.”

Grinder’s mouth twists into a satisfied smirk. Old man’s really itching to have Rock take over as our national prez.

While they debate their plans for the party, my mind’s moving on to my meeting with Cain.

Once Rock ends church, I stay seated with some of the other officers. I lean over and tap the table to get Teller’s attention. “I’m going to bring my brother by the apartment later today, if that’s still all right with you?”

“Yeah.” He grabs a notepad from the center of the table and scratches down some numbers and hands it to me. “Top one will get you in downstairs. Bottom number into the apartment. If you have any issues, call me.”

“Thanks.” I glance at the numbers, then fold the paper and tuck it in my pocket.

“Is that it?” Rock asks.

“Um, no.” I pull the papers for the laundromat out. “I stopped by Sully’s gym this morning.”

Wrath’s mouth twists into a smirk. “My word wasn’t good enough?”

“Hey, good thing I went. He needed someone to watch the place for a few minutes so he could run home,” I say, sidestepping Wrath’s accusation.

“How are things out there?” Rock asks.

“Fine. Gym was slow but I was there early.” I unfold the papers and smooth my hand over the wrinkles. “I walked around after. Found a business for sale.”

I clear my throat. All eyes are focused on me. Not used to being the center of attention and can’t say I’m loving it. “Thought it could be a good investment for the club. Give us a foothold in that area.”

Rock raises two interested eyebrows and nods with approval. Z grins and taps his fist against his chest.

Teller, eager little beaver that he is, holds out his hand for the papers.

“It’s a laundromat,” I explain. “So, something I have experience running already.”

“Such an easy way to wash cash,” Teller mutters, flipping through the pages.

“Guy’s got some employees he wants to keep, so it hopefully wouldn’t stretch us too thin,” I explain.

Rock and Z share a look.

“Sounds like it might be the perfect business for both New York charters to go in on together,” Z says.

“Fuck yeah.” Hustler pumps his fist in the air. “Sounds good to me.”

Teller nods. “Me too.” He glances at me. “You sure you want to be responsible for it?”

“Responsible?” Don’t know if I care for that word . “I need to do something more productive than just hang out at my girlfriend’s and terrorize our support club.”

Z shakes with laughter. “You do more than that. You’re busy helping Rooster with our porn empire.” He cocks his head, like he’s daring me to make a snarky comment about his ex, Stella. “And keeping Stella the hell away from me.”

I press my palms together, like I’m praying to the magical sky daddy above. “Haven’t heard from her since the one-hundred-and-one-man fuckfest proposal.”

Everyone groans. Guess Upstate got filled in on all the dirty details at some point.

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Rooster says.

Z glances at Hustler. “You’ve heard from her, right?”

Hustler shoots a glare at me, then Rooster. “Unfortunately. She’s plenty pissed we turned that idea down.”

“Tough shit,” Z snaps.

“She’s approaching a big milestone of subscribers on her site,” Rooster says.

“Yeah, and?” Z asks.

Hustler and Rooster trade tag, you’re it looks.

Finally, Hustler sighs. “Once she crosses that threshold, I think we ought to celebrate it. Let her know we appreciate her and all that fat cash that comes pouring into our account every month.”

Z blows out a breath, letting it out slowly. “You’re right. Let her have a party at the clubhouse. Whatever will keep her happy.”

“Thanks,” Hustler says.

“I ain’t fuckin’ goin’, though,” Z mutters.

“Anyway,” Rock says, shaking his head like he wants to knock the mental image of all things Stella out of his head. “Mr. Cedarwood had many complimentary things to say about you yesterday, Jigsaw.”

Heat crawls up my neck. The way Rock says it, it sounds less like a client praising an employee—and more like a future father-in-law having a sit-down with my dad .