Page 73

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Margot

I almost splatter into a thousand tears when Jezzie hugs me.

“Was this your doing?” she asks.

No, he would’ve done it weeks and weeks ago if I’d had my way.

I shake my head. “No.”

She pulls back, eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure? You’re probably one of the only people he listens to about this kinda stuff.”

A shaky laugh slips out of me. “Yes, but it takes him a while to realize I’m right.”

She chuckles.

“All right.” Jigsaw tucks his phone away in his pocket. “He’s heading home now. Let’s go.”

Jezzie hurries ahead of us, out the door and into the parking lot.

“I guess she’s eager to see him,” I whisper.

He stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you. You sure you don’t mind coming with us? I shouldn’t?—”

“I want to finally meet him.” I lean up on tiptoes. “My future brother-in-law and all.”

His eyes widen like he hadn’t thought of it. Cain doesn’t quite fit into those pockets of his life yet.

He will.

I’ll help him make space.

Jezzie’s quiet on the way to Cain’s.

I don’t think she’s nervous. Just thoughtful. Processing. Or maybe it’s bringing up memories she’d rather leave buried.

She’s in the back seat, staring out of the window again. Remembering more of that long drive she took across the country to start a new life?

Jigsaw reaches over and laces his fingers through mine, his grip firmer than usual. Like he needs the contact.

I’m proud of him for facing those shadowy parts of his past. For trying to protect both siblings the best way he can.

We pull into the parking lot of a boxy building. A tall, lanky guy is out front, leaning against a motorcycle that looks like it was built for speed and danger. Neon green with streaks of white and black—sleek, and flashy. Much different than Jigsaw’s bigger, heavier, darker Harley.

The guy’s arms are crossed over his chest, head bowed, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up, covering his face.

He tips his head up as we slide into a parking space, the hood falling back, revealing his features. His hair’s darker than Jigsaw’s and he’s a bit skinnier, but the resemblance is strong.

This has to be Cain.

JIGSAW

It feels like my past has come full circle as Cain lifts his head and watches me pull into the lot. I kill the engine, the silence anything but peaceful. Margot gives my hand one last squeeze, then lets go.

I step out first. The door shuts behind me with a clean, solid thunk that cracks through the still afternoon like a warning not to wake old ghosts.

“I thought that was you.” Cain pushes away from his bike and takes a few steps closer. “Sweet ride. When’d you get that?”

“Yesterday.” I hesitate. “Actually wanted to talk to you about—” I wave it off. “Never mind. That can wait.”

He frowns, clearly confused.

The back door opens with a soft, airtight whoosh.

I step back. I’ve already stood in their way for too long.

Cain’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, eyes locked on the sister he hasn’t seen in what probably feels like a lifetime.

“Jezzie?”

“Cain?” She laughs and rushes toward him. “Holy crap. You’re so tall!”

He blinks at her. “You have colorful stripes in your hair.”

She touches the top of her head and nods. “I do.”

Cain’s hands stay jammed deep in his pockets. Jezzie inches closer, arms slightly outstretched but not quite committing.

“Can I hug you?” she asks softly, like she knows she needs to give him the option to say no but hopes he won’t.

The corners of his mouth lift, dimples popping on his cheeks. “Yeah.”

They shuffle toward each other—stiff, tentative—arms out, shoulders hunched, like they’re abandoned ducklings awkwardly waddling out of their nest for the first time.

They meet halfway and something shifts.

Cain wraps his arms around her like he’s afraid if he lets go, she’ll vanish again.

Jezzie clings just as hard, her face pressed against his shoulder, silent but shaking.

Feeling like an intruder, I back away, leaning against my truck. Margot steps beside me, sliding her hand into mine without a word.

Finally they part. Cain scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, his gaze flicking everywhere—me, the pavement, the sky—before finally landing on Margot.

“This the girlfriend you stay with all the time?” he asks, still with that weirdness around the question.

“Yes.” I keep my voice steady. Now’s not the time for my inner asshole to come out and play. “This is Margot.”

“She’s good people,” Jezzie chimes in, her voice warm and sure. “Best decision our brother’s ever made,” she adds in a lower voice.

Our brother . Damn, that feels weird.

I don’t hate it, though.

Cain rubs the back of his neck again. “You, uh... want to come inside?”

“Yeah, sure.”

We follow him all the way to the top floor.

I haven’t been to the apartment since before I left for Vegas. And I’m pleased he’s keeping the place clean. Teller might’ve said he wasn’t worried about any damage, but I still don’t want my brother to trash the place.

Jezzie steps in tentatively, eyeing the kitchen. She throws me a teasing stink eye. “This is bigger than my place.” She wanders further inside. “And it’s a two bedroom?”

“Club only had this one available, smart-ass.”

Cain swings his arms in wide, jittery arcs, like he’s got too much energy and nowhere to put it. “So, uh… when can I meet your club? I wanna thank your friend for letting me stay here.”

“Some of my brothers will be at the track.” I swallow hard, not sure this is a great memory to bring up for Cain. “You remember my friend Logan? The one who…”

Cain nods quickly, sparing me from finishing that sentence. The one who showed up and helped kick you out of your home.

“Yeah, he’ll be there. Dex too—he’s the one who usually manages Crystal Ball.”

His cheeks redden at the mention of the strip club.

“Are Heidi and Murphy coming?” Jezzie asks. “Heidi said she’d let me do a lap in her Hellcat.”

“Get out of here,” I laugh. “You want to get behind the wheel of that beast?”

She smirks and shrugs. “She offered. Aunt Angela would die if she saw me driving that.”

Cain frowns. “Who’s that?”

“Oh.” Jezzie freezes. “Our mom’s sister…I lived with her after…”

Cain nods slowly. “We have some catching up to do, I guess.”

“We do,” Jezzie agrees.

Cain perks up, lifting his chin at me. “Remy said one of his friends has a Mustang?”

Jezzie’s gaze snaps to him. “How do you know Remy?”

Margot coughs into her hand, failing to hide her laugh.

“He comes into the gym I work at all the time,” Cain says, like it’s been the highlight of working at Strike Back. “Been teaching me some stuff.”

He shifts into a fighting stance—feet planted, hands up, balanced like he’s done this more than once. Not just street brawling. More controlled. More trained.

“Cute,” Jezzie says. “So how do you like it here? Jensen said you were living in…New Mexico?” She lowers her voice. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks.” He stares at his sneakers, scuffs one against the carpet. “It’s a lot colder, that’s for sure. Otherwise, I don’t know.”

“You’re going to stay, though… right?” Jezzie asks gently, but she doesn’t hide the hope in her voice.

He’s quiet for a beat, then lifts his head and looks straight at me. “I dunno. If you guys want me to.”

“Yeah.” I shrug, unnerved by the questions in his eyes. “Thought you wanted to go to school here?”

He shrugs, still holding my gaze. “I can do that anywhere.”

I already told the kid I’d help him with school and pretty much whatever else he needs.

It’s not money he’s looking for. Not the logistics of getting an education.

It’s family.

I chose my club as my family a long time ago. Built a life on that choice. No regrets.

But now that I’ve found my little brother again...

Maybe I’ll choose him, too.