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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Jigsaw

I don’t need more than one guess to know it’s about the tweaker.

I toss the phone onto the nightstand and shift, curling around Margot’s warm, sleepy body. The scent of plums, sugar, and sin clings to her soft skin—sweet and lethal. Makes me want to stay right here, wrapped up with her, and forget the world exists.

“Think you’ll come up to the clubhouse with me today?” I ask, dragging my lips over the curve of her shoulder.

“Mmmm.” She sighs and rolls to face me, eyes half-lidded. “Can’t. Appointment at eleven.”

Fuck.

“Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?” she asks. “You won’t try to ride, yet.”

“Yeah, Rooster’s coming.” My fingers trail down her arm.

She bites her bottom lip and searches my face like she’s bracing for bad news. “Are the guys going to tell everyone what I did the other night?”

My whole body stills.

Yeah, probably. “Maybe just the officers. We’re gettin’ called in first. Usually, Rock and Z just keep us after.”

She squints as if she’s trying to remember who the other officers are. “Besides you, Rooster, Murphy, Rock, and Wrath…your other officers are…Z, Grinder, Dex, Teller, and…”

Impressed she remembered almost everyone, I kiss the tip of her nose. “Hustler. Downstate’s treasurer.”

“Hustler,” she repeats. “Well, I assume Teller won’t care. Neither will Murder Daddy.”

“I’m sorry.” I laugh. “What?”

“Grinder.” She shrugs, a playful glint in her eye. “That’s what Shelby calls him.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “Great.” Then I realize why she’s puzzling this out. “No one’s going to care, Margot. They’ll be impressed. Trust me.”

“Oh, all the other ol’ ladies slice and dice people too?” She raises an eyebrow, but her voice is tight, uncertain.

I chuckle—can’t help it—but keep my tone firm. “No. But Heidi’s clocked a few guys with a hammer when they came after Murphy.”

That gets her attention. Her eyes widen with more curiosity than concern. “Really?”

“Yes. All of them would protect their men, in their own ways. Your way is just more immediate and visceral.”

She bites her lip and drops her gaze. “It wasn’t protective, though. It was reactive. Revenge for hurting you.”

That lands hard in my chest. I trace her jaw with my knuckles.

“Look, I know you have a certain code for how and why you end people, but don’t lose sleep over this one.

Sooner or later, he would've hurt someone else. Either in a drug deal gone bad or out of sheer stupidity. He came close to shooting Griff. Threatened to hurt Molly. He was scum.”

She lets out a slow breath. “I don’t want your brothers to be…afraid of me. Think I’m nuts.”

“Trust me, they respect the hell out of you.”

Her lips twist into a wicked smile. “Ah, just what every ol’ lady dreams of—her boyfriend’s outlaw biker brothers impressed by her murder skills.”

“Yeah, kinda.” A flicker of pride burns through me. “Now they know exactly how far you’ll go to protect your man. And the club.”

A couple of hours later, Rooster and I pull into the upstate clubhouse’s parking lot.

On the way up the stairs, he side-eyes my outfit. Again. He’d given me the same dying to crack a joke face when I’d met him in Cedarwood’s parking lot this morning.

“Shut up,” I grumble.

“I didn’t say anything.” He offers his shoulder like I’m a fragile grandpa who forgot my walker at home, but I make it up on my own.

“Your face says plenty.”

Inside the clubhouse, it’s quiet and clean. A lot fewer wild parties being thrown up here these days. Sparky and Stash are still passed out on the couches—some things never change. Although today it looks like Willow’s sound asleep on top of Sparky—his own human blanket.

I slap Rooster’s arm and point at the trio.

He shrugs and keeps heading for the war room. “Not my business.”

“What in the gangbanger-turned-suburban-dad fuck are you wearing?” Murphy cackles the second I limp into the room.

Short on options that wouldn’t irritate my Franken-leg, I’m wearing the ridiculously loose black sweats Rooster brought the other night, a plain white T-shirt, and the Crocs. Still ugly as sin but surprisingly comfy. Of course, my cut on top. I wouldn’t dare show up for church without it.

Rock shoots Murphy a shut-the-fuck-up look. “You’re fine, Jiggy. Come in. Have a seat.”

I land a solid punch on Murphy’s arm as I pass his chair.

“You all right, bro?” Teller asks.

“I’ll live.” I lower myself into the chair beside him. “Think you’ve had worse. At least no one put a bullet in my ass or splinters in my side.”

“Or ran you off the road,” Teller mutters. “Don’t remind me.”

I lift my head and nod at Dex across the table.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Eh.” I shrug. “Still stings like a bitch. But Margot says it looks okay. Stitches have held so far.” I try to flatten the smirk forming on my lips. Been testing those stitches by asking Margot to ride my face a couple times a day—which inevitably turns into something else not medically advised.

Wrath holds out his arms as if he wants to silence the chatter. “Glad you’re okay, brother.” He pauses and looks around the table. “But can we all take a moment to appreciate how Margot slit that guy’s throat without even hesitating?”

Teller’s eyes bug. “I’m sorry, what?” He glances at Murphy. “I thought you were exaggerating.”

“Nope.”

Rock’s mouth twists into a smirk. “You two are one hell of a match.”

“Agreed.” I swallow hard. This would be the time to mention her favorite…hobby. I won’t get a better opportunity.

But it feels wrong. Private.

Her kills don’t have anything to do with the club.

“She was rattled when she saw me bleeding,” I offer instead.

“Didn’t look rattled to me.” Murphy makes a slicing motion through the air. “She handled business like a boss.”

“Sorry I missed it,” Dex says.

“Same.” Rooster nods. “I got there right after, apparently.”

I lean in, voice low. “Can we maybe not talk about it too much? She’s worried what people’ll think.”

“Uh, that your ol’ lady has more balls than most men?” Wrath arches an eyebrow.

“She just…” I scrub my hand over my jaw. “She doesn’t want anyone thinking she’s a psycho.”

“You mean awesome?” Murphy throws in.

I let out a short laugh. “I told her that’d be everyone’s reactions.”

Rock stares at me for a beat. “I get what you’re saying, Jiggy. That’s why we called officers in first.” He shoots a glare toward Z’s empty end of the table. “You know Z and Grinder will be impressed too.”

I nod. No doubt. No one’s ratting her out. Even if they did, the guy’s nothing but ashes now. Not a trace left. No proof he was ever in upstate New York.

We discuss the bits of information we did get out of the tweaker. While we’re going back and forth on that, Z, Grinder, and Hustler join us.

“Well, good morning,” Wrath says, pointedly staring at his wrist.

Z rolls his eyes and pulls out the chair next to Dex, instead of his normal seat. Grinder stands behind him and Hustler paces between his usual chair at the end of the table and one closer to the middle.

Wrath gives them a short, quick version of events and when he’s finished, Z and Grinder are staring at me slack-jawed.

“That’s some woman you found, Jigsaw.” Grinder nods with respect. “Now I’m even more impressed she didn’t slice those girls up after the way they went after her at our clubhouse.”

“She’s not…she’s not like that,” I say carefully. “I mean, if they’d laid a hand on her, they might not have gotten it back, but otherwise…”

“She’s a sweetheart,” Dex finishes.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“She actually baked us bread.” Murphy shakes with laughter as he goes over that portion of the story again.

“You got a crush on Jigsaw’s girl?” Wrath jokes.

Still smiling, Murphy shakes his head. “No, I’m thinking we should ask her to prospect.”

Unlikely, since she doesn’t ride.

Wrath throws me a look, arching a brow.

I nod at him and raise my hand to catch Z’s attention. “I doubt she wants to prospect, but I want to give her my property patch.”

“Who didn’t see that coming?” Hustler cackles and rubs his hands together.

“Her father going to be okay with that?” Teller asks.

I turn and glare at him. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” I shrug. “What the fuck’s it matter, anyway? She’s only gonna wear it when she’s at one of our clubhouses.”

“True.”

“Obviously, she has my vote,” Rooster says.

“Big surprise.” Hustler covers his mouth and laughs between his sausage fingers.

“Shut up,” Grinder snaps, then focuses his stern gaze on me. “I’m ready to vote her in too.”

Well, look at that. Grinder’s such an ornery old goat, tweaker kill or not, I thought for sure he’d request a fifteen-point presentation on why Margot’s ol’ lady material.

Hustler grins and bobs his head up and down.

“Hell, yeah,” Dex says. “If she’s not your soul mate, I don’t know who is.”

Wrath snorts. “You already know where I stand on this.”

I point at Wrath but lift my chin at Rock. “He threatened to take my patch if I don’t marry her.”

Rock snorts but nods as if he agrees. “She’s a formidable woman.”

“Tiny but terrifying,” Murphy adds.

“And.” Wrath leans forward and throws his arm over the table, grabbing my hand.

“Five minutes after she slit that guy’s throat—in one clean cut I might add—she’s got Jiggy up on a table, sewing him up like she’s operating on the Pope.

” He slaps my hand again and settles back into his chair.

“Unbelievable. We should call her next time one of us gets a bullet in our ass, instead of Doc.”

Not liking the sound of that. “Yeah, but she doesn’t have access to meds and stuff. I mean, the shit she used on me is usually for corpses .”

“Eh, details.” Wrath waves his hand like he’s batting away my words.

Z’s sitting back with a pinched expression.

“What’s wrong, Prez?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I missed it. I hate that I’m so fuckin’ far away when you guys need something.”