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)
I’m not sure what Cedarwood’s agenda was with that conversation. But the cops came sniffing around Margot, and that’s something my club needs to know.
Now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jigsaw
The bizarre conversation with Margot’s dad sticks with me all the way to the clubhouse. He’s really not bothered about a biker dating his daughter? Thought for sure he’d want her to marry another mortician or something.
Whoa. Why’s my brain going to marriage? That’s been on my never, ever happening list for years.
When I finally reach the clubhouse, at least ten different bikes are parked out front, including Rooster’s and Z’s. Rock’s SUV is in the garage and his bike is parked along the fence—so he’s here too. I should’ve known if I was meeting with Teller, he’d have Rock join us.
As I get off my bike, a weird sensation hits me. Last time I was here, I didn’t know Margot was a murderer. No—angel of justice. She was just my shy, sweet girlfriend that I told my club I’ve been seeing. Oh, and I threatened to stab anyone who made her uncomfortable.
It doesn’t matter. Her confession didn’t change how I feel, did it?
Nope.
If anything, I’m more in…whatever I am with her, than before that knowledge bomb landed on my head.
“You finally get here?” Rooster calls out from the front steps. He jogs down and crosses the parking lot.
“I asked to meet with Teller.” I brace myself for the bruising hug Rooster inflicts on me. The fucker always squeezes like he’s testing how sturdy my ribs are. “What’re you doing here?”
“I was helping Z with his back deck.” Rooster points toward the trees in the direction of the cabin Z built up here for his family.
I squint at him. “Since when are you a carpenter?”
“He just needed an extra set of hands.” He glances at my bike. A slow grin spreads across his face. “Did you come from your sweet, sunshiny girlfriend’s love palace?”
I blink. “What kind of weird-ass shit just came out of your mouth?”
“Why so grouchy?” Rooster holds up one hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know, do I?”
I blow out a harsh breath. “She’s not that sunshiny.” I can’t share Margot’s secrets with him. Not yet. “She’s got a bit of a dark side too.”
“Good.” He lets out a deep, satisfied chuckle like I just confirmed a bet he had with himself. “Sounds like the perfect woman for you, then.”
Great, he probably thinks I’m talking about bedroom kinks, not murderous tendencies.
But he’s not wrong. She is the perfect woman for me. In so many ways.
That’s why I need to do what I can to keep the cops away from her without ratting her out to my club.
The screen door opens, and Teller sticks his head out. His gaze flicks to Rooster, then me. “You coming inside or not?”
“Yeah.” I slap Rooster’s chest as I step past him. “Thanks for holding me up, motherclucker.”
He elbows me and falls in step next to me. I bound up the short steps and yank the door out of Teller’s hand. “Right here, boss.”
Seeing him up close, I take in his droopy eyes, messy hair, and generally grim expression. Brother looks like the sleep deprivation truck ran him over. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, asshole. I haven’t slept in weeks.” He yawns loudly and obnoxiously in my face. “Not even sure what day it is.”
Well, now I feel even worse for asking to meet with him. “How’s Charlotte doing?”
He scrubs his hand over his face. “Same. Tired.” His voice softens just a fraction. “But she’s the one with at least one baby attached to her at all times. Heidi’s at the house with her now, helping out until I get back.”
Sounds like a nightmare to me.
My aversion must show on my face. Teller jerks his head toward the war room, his scowl deepening. “Come on, you didn’t want to meet up today to hear my babies’ first weeks home journal entry.”
I chuckle and move into the clubhouse’s entryway. “Nah, it’s a great reminder to stop and buy condoms on my way home.”
Rooster smacks the back of my head.
Teller snorts with laughter. “For you—yeah, definitely. We were actively trying for this—we just didn’t expect two at once.”
In the war room, Rock, Z, Murphy, and Wrath—for fuck’s sake, Wrath too?—are already seated at one end of the long table. I stop short and frown. “Uh, I’m not sure what Bishop Babymaker here,” I point to Teller, “told everyone, but this isn’t that big of a deal.”
Wrath squeezes his eyes shut and shakes with laughter.
Murphy kicks out the chair across from him. His grin is pure mischief. “Sit your ass down, commander chucklefuck. We were here anyway.”
Commander chucklefuck. I’ll have to remember that one.
Grinning, I take the chair and drop into it. Rooster sits next to me.
I nod to Z. “How’s everything at the house, Prez?”