Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
“Huh. Dang it. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“He got you, huh?”
“Sure did. But Charlotte put an end to that game, I doubt he’ll try it again.” She pauses and I hold my breath, waiting for whatever advice she has next. “Lord knows what he’ll come up with instead.”
An idea so brilliant pops into my head, I blurt it into the phone without thinking. “I thought people tell scary campfire stories when they’re in the woods around a campfire.”
“Like, Legend of Bloody Mary urban legend type stories?” she asks carefully.
Not exactly. “Sure.”
She lets out an almost nervous-sounding laugh. “That might be more fun. Anyway, the guys like to joke around and bust on each other. It’s not personal. And like I said, Jigsaw won’t let anyone get carried away.”
I interact with different personalities every day. I’ve got this. It’s still nice to have a heads-up, though. “Thanks, Shelby.”
“You got it. I’ll see ya a lil’ later.”
We say goodbye and I set my phone down. I wander into my closet and find a bag big enough to hold a weekend’s worth of clothing. I have a hard time narrowing it down, but I end up with a few outfits that should work—including one dress. Just in case.
I can’t stop thinking about what Shelby said. The guys might want to test me tonight—have me share an embarrassing story or detail about myself in front of everyone.
Not happening.
After dropping the clothes off on my bed, I return to my closet. This time, I go all the way into the back, past all my work clothes, shoe collection, jewelry, and special “ornaments,” to the small hidden door in the corner.
The latch sticks for a second before popping open. Inside, newspaper clippings and other…oddities I’ve collected over the years wait in the dark. I reach for one particular item and carefully wrap it inside a velvet sack.
I don’t know if I’ll have the guts to actually use it.
But if I do…
It’ll be the last time anyone tries to embarrass me at a party.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jigsaw
The ride to Margot’s place is a hell of a lot different in my cage. The old 4Runner handles like a tank, stiff and bouncy over every crack in the road. Feels like I’m steering a cinder block on wheels. It’s survived years of New York winters, potholes the size of craters, and my general lack of giving a shit, so I should be thankful it’s running at all.
I made one of the prospects give it a thorough detailing, so it’s clean for my girl and she won’t be brushing road salt off of her jeans when she climbs in. It’s not classy enough for my pretty little lady death. But it wasn’t built for class—it was built for survival. Just like me.
Wind whistles through the driver’s side window, a reminder that the seal is barely hanging on. I should’ve fucking fixed that.
I tighten my grip on the wheel. Driving always makes me feel like a raccoon trapped in a giant dumpster. I’m more than ready to be out of this steel cage. Unfortunately, I’ve got at least another hour to go to get to Margot’s and then an hour back to the clubhouse. I might be out of my skull by the time we get there.
Nah, I’m taking my frustration out on my trusty old cage for no reason. Am I worried about officially introducing Margot to the club as my girlfriend? Is that what’s giving me the itch to claw my way through the windshield? I’ve never had an ol’ lady. Never specifically brought a woman to the clubhouse to introduce her as mine.
In fact, I’ve talked a lot of shit about never wanting an ol’ lady and how I relish variety in my bedmates. I’m more than willing to eat my words if my brothers want to razz my ass—I deserve it. But I’d rather not have them say that shit in front of Margot. It’s one thing for me to tell her I never did relationships before her. It’s totally different to have it confirmed in grotesque detail over and over by every member of my club…and probably a few bunnies too.
Fuck.
Hope said the party should be bunny-free. Please let her be the one who had final say over the guest list.
I glance over at the passenger seat. A small brown gift bag with a red and black plaid ribbon tied around the twine handles waits for Margot. I’ve never gotten a girl a gift before. Usually, my presence is enough of a gift. But I saw it and immediately thought of Margot.
Will she think it’s weird or too much?
Too soon?
No. It’s practical. Useful. She’ll like it.
Finally, her house comes into view. I tap the brakes, grimacing as the 4Runner dips forward too hard. Forgot how stiff the front suspension is. Instead of detailing it, I should’ve replaced the shocks.