Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“You have?” I ask, trying to keep the shock out of my voice. The guys must trust him.
“Yeah. Sunday mornings my brother hosts a class.” He leans in, dropping his voice. “But between you and me—I’m the better teacher.”
I raise a hand, putting some space between us. “I’m sure you are.”
“All right, charmer.” Wrath grips Jake’s bicep and hauls him onto the back porch. “Let’s go.”
Laughing too hard to respond, I just raise my hand in a wave.
“See you at the funeral, Margot,” Wrath calls.
I close the door behind them.
And then I’m alone.
With silence.
Way too much silence.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jigsaw
I make it back early the next morning, riding down Rooster’s long driveway past the house. Through the kitchen window, Rooster’s big head bobs into view like a buoy in choppy water.
Since he’s up, I might as well spread some cheer. I park near the back door and don’t even bother going downstairs to my place.
“Look who’s actually here for once.” Rooster opens the back door before I even have a chance to knock. “Where ya been, cock-knocker?”
I yawn and scrub my hand over my face. “It’s too early to be so chipper.” I lift my chin, scenting the air. “But I smell coffee.”
“Help yourself.”
I fix a cup and join him at the kitchen table. The rest of the house seems still and too quiet. “Where’s our little songbird at?”
“She’s down in the city.”
“What? Why? By herself?”
He slowly sets his mug on the table and lets out a long sigh. “No,” he says with barely hidden restraint. “She’s with Angelina and Mallory.”
“You let your ol’ lady go into another club’s territory with the wife of another MC’s president and his daughter? Are you nuts?”
He cocks his head and glares at me. “They’re doing a ‘girls’ weekend’ as civilians. No one’s going to bother them.”
“Surprised Chaser let them go.”
“Let them.” He rolls his eyes. “They have a driver taking them everywhere. It’s not like they’re riding the subway alone or hanging out in dark alleys.”
It sounds like he’s trying harder to convince himself everything’s fine than convince me, so I ease up on the questioning. “You okay?”
He stares at me as if he’s having an internal battle. While he’s working out whatever he wants to say, I sip my coffee. It’s nice to worry about someone else’s problems instead of my own for a few minutes.
“If I tell you this, can you please promise to keep it to yourself?” Rooster asks. “Shelby will kill me for telling anyone.”
Normally, a statement like that would make me hound him for the info but since I’m keeping a pretty hefty secret of Margot’s, I shrug. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t, then.”
He presses his lips together and frowns.
A new worry hits me. “She’s okay, right?”
“She’s fine. She just…”
“Wait. You two are okay, right?”
“Fuck. Yes, of course.” He runs his hand over the back of his neck. “She…there’s a therapist in Manhattan who works with celebrities. Very discreet. Understands creatives supposedly.”
“Wait, therapist?”
He sighs. “All the attention she’s getting lately, the album blowing up, the award she just won…the amount of people constantly picking her appearance apart’s only gotten worse. More intense. It’s getting to her.”
“What? How? She’s gorgeous and talented. Who cares what a bunch of losers think?”
He taps his phone, setting on the table between us. “You’ve helped me comb through her socials. The shit people are comfortable saying behind the safety of their screens is—”
“Brutal. I know, but she doesn’t actually believe any of it. Besides, there are more comments praising everything about her than there are nasty ones.”
He lifts his shoulders. “I know that. And you know that…”
“Obviously she’s hot. For fuck’s sake, you never take your hands off of her.”
“Yeah,” he says in a slow, sarcastic tone. “I don’t think having me explain how hard my dick gets every time I catch her scent is the cure for what she’s going through.”
I curl my upper lip in fake disgust. “I didn’t need that image in my head.”
“Then stop being dense.”
“I’m not trying to be dense.” I pause and try to consider my words for once. “I hate that something like that is bothering her so much. That’s all.”
“So do I, brother. Which is why I’m glad Mallory found this therapist—”
“Wait, so Mallory knows?”
He shrugs. “Shelby and Angelina are tight. I think Angelina asked her mom for some advice since she went through something similar in the nineties.”
“Forgot she was on that old show.” I tap his phone. “It’s way worse now, though. Mallory didn’t have the constant stream of vitriol from social media to deal with.”
“Exactly.” He drills me with a hard stare. “Now, forget I told you any of this.”
“Already forgotten, brother.” I tilt my head and study my best friend. “You doing all right? After everything you two have been through together, it must be killing you not to track down some of these assholes and beat some manners into them.”