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“We had it covered,” Murphy says. “In other mighty-girlfriend news—Molly clocked the guy with a crowbar before we even got to the garage.”

Z bursts out laughing. “Little Molly? Remy’s sister?”

“Yup.” Murphy nods. “Not so little anymore.”

“Christ.” I shake my head. “I was threatening to stab drunk assholes for grabbing her at the bar last summer. Now she’s out here knee-capping motherfuckers?”

“They grow up so fast,” Wrath says in a mock-wistful tone, clasping his hands together like he’s about to shed a tear.

“Same vibe, though.” Murphy jerks his thumb at me. “Guy came after Griff. She did what Margot did—protected her man.”

“Love to see it,” Dex says.

The door opens again and more brothers start filing into the war room, grabbing seats and settling in. Z and Hustler shift to the far end of the table.

Once everyone’s in place, Rock gives a stripped-down version of the tweaker incident. No mention of Margot’s role. Just that the body’s been disposed of.

“And now for the really bad news,” Z says, tipping his hand toward Rock like he’s passing off a loaded weapon.

Grinder steeples his fingers in front of his mouth, probably to physically hold his inside thoughts inside .

“Brace yourselves.” Rock’s jaw shifts from side to side, like he’s got something unpleasant resting on his tongue he needs to spit out. “Priest’s planning to visit this summer. I don’t think it’s to shoot off fireworks and roast marshmallows around the fire.”

“Aw, fuck,” Ravage moans and stabs a finger against the table, “is he staying here?”

“Probably,” Rock confirms. “I don’t think he and Valentine want to stay at the clubhouse next to CB.”

“Valentina’s coming too?” Dex asks. “Then it’s more of a social call?”

“Doubt it,” Rooster says, glancing at Rock, then Z. “She’ll probably try to sweet-talk whatever information she can out of Hope and Lilly.”

“Good luck to her,” Rock mutters.

“So what you’re saying is,” Z’s lips curl into an evil grin as he glances around the table, his gaze finally landing on Rock. “We better get ourselves on an all-broth diet after the Fourth of July?”

Rock raises an eyebrow.

Grinder frowns at Z.

Wrath chokes on a laugh.

“Christ,” Rooster mutters.

“Since,” Z adds, wagging his hand in the air in an isn’t it obvious gesture, “it sounds like he plans to crawl up our asses and conduct a thorough inspection.”

Rock lets out a disgusted groan. “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

Z grins even wider.

“Proud of that one, are you?” Grinder says.

Wrath’s still shaking with laughter.

“I’m not getting the joke, Prez,” Murphy says, his gaze pinging between Rock and Z.

Wrath reaches over and pats the top of Murphy’s head. “Of course you don’t.”

Teller quickly shakes his head. “Now that we’re all aware you spend way too much time watching porn, can we discuss this visit like adults?”

“Whoa, look at mini-me with the attitude this morning.” Z throws his head back and laughs. “Who said anything about porn, you pervert?”

“Yeah, Prez could’ve just been letting us all know he likes a good colon cleanse before gettin’ pegged by his ol’ lady,” Hustler says.

Z’s eyes narrow to slits as he slowly swivels his head in our treasurer’s direction. “Careful, or you’ll be on an all-broth diet because you’re eating all your meals through a straw.”

Hustler raises his hands in the air. “Come on, I was just fucking around.”

“How many times do we have to explain this,” Dex says, exasperation coiled around his words. “Crackin’ jokes on each other is fine. Bringing our ol’ ladies into it is not.”

Hustler seems to sit with that for a moment, then lifts his head. “Yeah, but?—”

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“I’d argue it’s still aimed at Z,” Sparky pipes up from the couch in the back. “Lilly’s got all the power if she’s doing the pegging, so it’s a compliment, really.”

“Thanks for the riveting TED Talk, Professor Powerbottom,” Dex quips.

Birch starts slow-clapping. “I feel enlightened and empowered now. Thanks, Sparky.”

“You’re welcome.” Sparky throws two middle fingers in the air and kicks his feet up on the coffee table.

“My worldview has truly been shifted,” Hustler adds.

Rock heaves a long breath. “If I do take Priest’s place at National, does that mean these charming clusterfucks are all yours, Z?”

“Hah!” Z claps his hands and points at Rock. “I knew you’d come around. Fuck, yeah.”

“Simmer down,” Rock says. “No one knows what Priest actually wants.”

Once the laughter dies down and Rock reins everyone back in, he goes around the table, asking for updates.

Dex mentions needing help at Crystal Ball.

I stare at the table like it’s the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen, praying someone else speaks up first.

Thank fuck, Ravage, Butcher, and Eazy volunteer before I have to say a word.

Hustler pipes up next. “Stella just cracked six hundred thousand subscribers.”

“Already?” I blink. “Good for her.” I groan and rub my hands over my face. “But please don’t tell me we’re throwing another party at our clubhouse.”

“Not yet,” Hustler says, pointing between Rooster and me. “But I need one of you to get that site update done this week and her new photos uploaded. Banner’s still showing pics with her ‘old hairstyle’ and I’m sick of listening to her bitch about it.”

“We’ll get it done,” Rooster promises.

Rock nods at Teller.

“We’re getting ready to open up the drive-in for the season,” Teller says. “I could use some help cleaning the place, hiring some folks and getting it ready.”

“I might be able to help out there,” I volunteer.

Teller nods. “Thanks. What about your brother? How’s he like it at Sully’s?”

“So far, so good. But I’ll ask if he wants a second job for the summer.”

Once all regular business is done, Z stands. “As some of you know, our favorite chucklefuck has taken an ol’ lady.”

I roll my eyes and sit back in my chair.

“And he’s asked to patch her.”

My brothers start slapping their hands against the table.

“So, I ask, do we need to take a vote on Ms. Margot Cedarwood to wear Jigsaw’s patch?”

“No.” Wrath laughs like it’s an absurd question.

Z goes around the table anyway. Every officer—upstate and downstate— says yes to giving Margot their patches as well.

Z nods, pleased with his performance. “I’ll try to have it ready for you by the time you get back from Vegas,” he promises.

“Thanks.” I nod once, a little slower than usual.

No twist of anxiety. No second thoughts.

Just the low, steady hum of anticipation buzzing under my skin.

Margot’s mine. And I want the world to know it.