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)
One of the guys—Hustler, I think—walks up and slaps Jigsaw’s back. “Bro, do you want to have some pie with your bowl of pussywhip instead of that French toast?”
Jigsaw bares his teeth in a maniacal grin. “Tastes fucking delicious. You should try it someday.”
My skin warms with embarrassment. I don’t want to be the reason Jigsaw’s brothers tease him. Although, the more I’m around them, it seems like they’ll take any opportunity to hassle each other.
“No offense, darlin’.” He winks at me before strolling away.
“Lots taken,” I mutter.
Jigsaw shakes his head. “It’s a compliment as far as I’m concerned.” He jerks his head to the side. “Let’s grab a seat.”
We find our way to the same chairs we’d sat in last night. Shelby beams as I sit next to her, then winces. “Those sweet teas snuck up on me.” She pokes her fork into her eggs. “I’m only eating so I can down some Advil.”
“Ugh. I’m sorry.” Now I’m glad I switched to drinking water last night.
Rooster sets a cup of coffee in front of her and leans over to whisper something in her ear.
“Good morning.” Ravage stops behind my chair and stretches over me, slamming my statue next to my water glass with a thud against the table loud enough to draw everyone’s attention to us. “I think you left something in my room last night,” he announces.
I mash my lips together to stop laughter from pouring out.
“No fucking way.” Z stands at the end of the table and leans forward. “It’s real?”
Sparky arranges his fingers into a cross and hisses at the statue.
Jigsaw’s laughter rises from a deep rumble to a high belly laugh. He rocks sideways, clutching his stomach and almost falls out of his chair.
“I take it those were your manly screams we all heard echoing through the hallways early this morning, Ravage?” Dex asks.
Emily glances down at her plate and snort-laughs.
“I didn’t scream,” Ravage protests.
“Uh, yeah, you did,” Birch says.
I tug the black velvet satchel out of my sweatshirt pocket. “Well, thank you for finding her, I was wondering where she wandered off to.” I scoop the doll up and stuff her in the pouch, securing the ties at the top.
“It scared Bonnie half to death,” Ravage says. “She left.”
A sly smile curves my lips. “So, it served two purposes.”
Rav rests his hand on the back of my chair and leans over, his morning coffee breath hot against my cheek. “I play pranks too, you know.”
“No, you don’t.” Jigsaw shoves Rav sideways. “Not on my girl.”
“Oh, so she can leave that freakish statue next to my bed and mess with my nocturnal activities?” Rav throws his arms wide, laughing as he backs up a few steps. “But I can’t retaliate?”
“That’s right,” Jigsaw confirms without hesitation.
“Those are the rules,” Wrath adds, his grin wide and unapologetic.
“Why do you assume she did it and not me?” Jigsaw challenges, arching an eyebrow.
Rav smirks. “Well, all the ladies want to get into my bed…” He drags out the words before flicking a slow, exaggerated wink—one of those smug, over-the-top gestures that probably works for him fifty percent of the time.
An embarrassingly loud snort-giggle bursts out of me.
Jigsaw’s mouth twitches with amusement. “You’re lucky she’s laughing,” he mutters, his face hardening and voice carrying an edge of menace. “Or I’d choke you for even suggesting my girl wants to get anywhere near your sad, cum-soaked bed.”
Now that was a little too mean. I frown at Jigsaw and give Rav an apologetic smile. “Sorry, there’s only one bed I want to be in.” I reach over and squeeze Jigsaw’s arm to make it clear in case Ravage is slow.
“Can we see the doll?” Lilly asks.
Trinity nods. “Do you mind passing it around?”
“Not all. Just be careful, the nails are sharp and rusty.” I hand the bag to Shelby on my right. She passes it to Rooster without looking inside, like it’s a prop for a horror movie she’d rather not star in.
“Did it really survive the crematorium?” Teller asks.
“Awww,” I protest. “You’re going to unravel my story piece by piece?”
Teller lifts his head and stares at me like he expects me to come clean. I sigh. “She came to me that way. But I was told she was tossed in an incinerator and that was all the damage she sustained.”
When Lilly accepts the pouch, she pulls the doll completely out. She turns the doll over in her hands, studying the smooth wood, the intricate carvings, and each rusted nail with an almost reverent curiosity. “My grandmother had something similar,” she muses. “It didn’t have the freakish nails poking out of it, though. She told me her mother-in-law gave it to her as a wedding gift and if she kept a clean house, it would bring good luck. But if the house was messy, the husband was lazy, or the kids misbehaved…” She trails off, raising an eyebrow. “It would haunt her and cause problems.”