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“What are you even wearing?” Nikki sneers. “That dress is so cringe. You look like you’re dressed for a church picnic.”

“Awww, thanks,” I say, matching her snotty tone. “We can’t all wear stuff from this year’s ‘desperate for attention’ collection. I’ll leave that to you.”

Ignoring the dig, Bonnie looks down her nose at me like I’m a cigarette butt stuck to the bottom of her tacky plastic high heels. “You won’t last long. You look way too innocent to take the rough poundings Jigsaw enjoys.”

They cackle—loud, grating, and painfully performative.

She flicks a look at Nikki. “Bet she doesn’t even know what he really likes.”

“Oh.” Nikki gasps and bites her lip like she’s auditioning for one of Stella’s films. “Unless you’re into being thrown onto the bed, flipped over, and wrecked six ways from Sunday, you might wanna cut your losses now. Jigsaw loves to give a harsh spanking, fuck hard, and yank a ponytail good.”

This is starting to feel oddly familiar. Dee-Dee all over again—only worse. Much worse. And much more…descriptive.

Is it true?

He’s never been rough with me in bed. Demanding and growly in the best ways, sure. Rough—never.

“Apparently, none of you got the memo from your friend with the tragic haircut. I’m not interested in opinions on my relationship.” I stare them down even though I’m trembling. “Especially from a bunch of raggedy muffler bunnies.”

The one left sitting on the counter hops down and slinks closer, joining the two already in front of me.

Great, they’re multiplying like…well, bunnies.

“What did you say?” the new one asks, the cheap, rhinestone-studded belt holding up her ratty Daisy Dukes flashing under the kitchen lights. It draws attention away from her bare breasts trying to escape her cut-off white tanktop.

“No one’s talking to you,” I snap.

“Oh, you’re like Serena is now,” she says, curling her lip. “Think you’re too good for us?”

“Well, if this is how you treat her, I’m not surprised she doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

She laughs, low and nasty, like she’s savoring this moment. “Oh, honey. You think she’s your new bestie? That’s adorable. Did she forget to tell you she used to fuck Jigsaw?”

I blink.

Serena? Really?

No.

“She’s… she’s engaged to Grinder,” I stammer.

Her lips twist into a cruel smile. “Yeah, but before that old man got outta prison, she fucked all these guys. Same as we do.” She lifts an eyebrow at Nikki. “Right?”

Nikki nods quickly. “Yup. And Shelby? That little Walmart Taylor Swift knockoff might like to pretend Rooster wasn’t as dirty as the rest of ’em but everyone knows that man would stick his dick in every girl who walked in this clubhouse.”

The others titter like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard.

Then Bonnie’s eyes narrow on me again. “But hey—maybe we’re wrong about you, Margot.” Her voice drips with cruelty. “You definitely have the padding to handle Jigsaw,” she says, stepping closer and tipping her head as if she’s appraising a cow at the county fair.

“She needs all that cushion. I swear that man fucked me so hard, he bruised my spleen one time,” Dollar Store Daisy Dukes snort-giggles and clutches her stomach.

That’s nowhere near your spleen.

But I’d be happy to slice you open and point it out.

And also, ewww .

“I never knew Jiggy was into asses that big, though,” Nikki says loud enough for the other two girls to swivel around. “He’s so buff and hard all over. I figured he’d go for someone hotter. Not some fat chick.”

How original.

I shift both bottles of water into one hand. If she comes any closer, I’m pulling out my knife and demonstrating how quick I can turn all that lip filler into scar tissue.

“Well, he’s definitely an ass man,” Bonnie purrs, giving her behind a smug little pat. “He’s always loved going to town on mine.”

The three of them burst into more fake-giddy giggles. Even the girls on the other side of the kitchen chuckle.

I’m going to vomit.

“That’s riiight,” Nikki says. “I forgot how much Jiggy and Steer used to love tag-teaming new girls out on the pool table. Pretty sure Jiggy always called dibs on ass.”

My stomach lurches.

He did avoid my question about the threesomes…

They’re being vile on purpose—lining up their nasty stories like knives, sinking them in to see which one cuts the deepest.

I let out a loud, dramatic yawn, patting my hand against my lips. “Your hair isn’t as ugly as your friend’s, but your story is just as boring.”

Nikki’s pout twists—too much filler to form a real sneer.

“We’re trying to do you a favor. You should say ‘thank you.’” She leans closer, face hovering in prime slashing range.

“You’re not into what he likes. You can’t give him what he needs.

So maybe don’t get too comfortable, babe.

On the nights he’s not with you?” She gestures around the kitchen. “He’s probably with one of us.”

I snort. “You wish.”

Great comeback, Margot.

She’s lying through those overinflated lips. He’s been with me most nights for months.

But there were those few times he disappeared on me…

A few times he said he crashed at the upstate clubhouse.

Other times, he didn’t say where he’d been.

I didn’t ask—because I trust him.

“She’s right,” Bonnie snaps. “Where’s our thank you for trying to warn you?”

I give her a cold, dead-eyed stare. “Cool story, thanks. So if it burns when I pee, now I’ll know why.”

Nikki’s eyes flash with rage. The girl next to her rolls her eyes like this is all beneath her.

But Bonnie? She pulls a mocking sad face, her voice laced with pity. “Let me guess—he tells you you’re different?” She tilts her head, fake sympathy oozing from every syllable. “Honey… aren’t you old enough to know they all say that?”

A million comebacks flood my brain.

But before I can line one up and spit it out?—

The doors slam open.

“What the fuck?” Jigsaw’s voice slices through the air like a machete. “Get the fuck away from my ol’ lady.”

The girls scatter—but not fast enough.

I didn’t even get to pull my knife this time.

In his rush to reach me, Jigsaw shoulder-checks Bonnie, sending her crashing into the edge of the counter.

She screeches and clutches her side, staring at the angry red line blooming across her exposed stomach. “That’s going to bruise!”

I lean in, close enough to choke on her strawberry pound cake–scented body spray.

“You said how much you enjoy taking a pounding,” I whisper. “That’s the last one you’re ever getting from my man. So, enjoy.”

Jigsaw grabs my hand, rough and possessive, and hauls me out of the kitchen behind him.

My pulse stutters. Is he mad?

Disappointed that I let myself get dragged into another altercation?

Trouble seems to find me every time I step into one of his MC’s clubhouses.

Maybe I’m not cut out to be an ol’ lady after all.