Chapter 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Jigsaw

The ride out to Jezzie's apartment was peaceful. The ride to Zips was not.

First, Jezzie complains about my bike. Then she squirms and moves around so much behind me, it fucks with the bike's stability. I have to work hard to control the steering and not overcorrect to compensate for all the shifts in her weight.

By the time we finally roll into Zips, every muscle in my body screams from the constant battle to keep us upright.

"I'm not getting back on that thing. So either you find a normal vehicle," she huffs, glaring at the cracked pavement as if blaming it for the ride, "or I live here now."

I point to the back of the bleachers. "You can find shelter there. I'm sure it'll be cozy."

"Ugh." She stomps ahead of me.

I raise my hands to the sky and tip my head back. What the fuck did I do to deserve this?

"Slow down." I jog to catch up with her, while pulling out my phone to check my texts.

Rooster: When are you getting here? Dex's about to throw down with Torch.

Fucking Torch. I better not see that orange-haired prick, or I'll knock him out myself.

Did Margot ever break that date?

Me: We're here. Dealing with a Jezzie tantrum.

Rooster: What'd you do to her?

Exist? I don't fucking know.

I tap out a text to Margot.

Me: You cancel that date with Torch?

Then I erase it. She's busy working a double funeral today. She doesn't have time for my jealous antics.

We're approaching the track when I spot Dex and Emily by the bleachers in a heated conversation. Not sure how I feel about her yet, or if she's ol' lady material. But Dex is into her. Never seen him so fucked up over anyone before.

Torch is nowhere in sight. Smart guy.

I nudge Jezzie's elbow. "That's one of my brothers. I want to introduce you."

"Gee," she says with exaggerated, wide eyes. "I never would've guessed, with the matching outfits and all, brother dear."

"What crawled up your butt today?"

She blows out an annoyed breath. "Nothing. I'm hungry."

"We'll get some food in a minute."

We stop in front of Dex and I grin at him. "Hey, happy campers. What'd my boy do now, Emily?"

" Boy ." She flashes an amused grin at me. "Isn't he older than you?"

"So he says." I pat Jezzie's back. "This is my sister Jezzie. Jezzie, this is my brother Dex and his girl, Emily."

Emily half-lunges forward like she's going to hug Jezzie hello. My sister's face must be in full prickly hedgehog mode, though. Emily stumbles and puts her arms down.

"It's nice to meet you," she says.

"Hi," Jezzie says in a small voice. What is she, suddenly shy? She glances at Dex. "Club brother."

I elbow her.

"My brother promised me food and race cars." Jezzie lets out a dramatic sigh, as if she has the worst brother in the world. "Yet, I see neither."

According to Dex, Emily's used to dealing with her own little sister's antics. Her face breaks into a big sisterly smile. "Food I can help you with. It's around the corner," Emily says.

"Thanks, Em," I say. As soon as they're out of earshot, I shove my hands in my pocket and rock back on my heels. "Whatcha been doing?" I ask in the most obnoxious way possible.

He blows out an irritated breath.

"Rooster told me to hurry up and get my ass here because you were ready to give some guy a beatdown."

Dex rolls his eyes. "Rooster should mind his business."

"I don't know," I sing in a high-pitched voice designed for maximum annoyingness. "You and Emily looked pretty intense. Someone try to rub up on your girl?"

"We're always intense." Dex turns toward the track. "Let's go get some food. If you're gonna be busting my balls, at least let me eat a burger while you're doing it."

We haven't cleared the bleachers yet when Dex asks, "So you're finally bringing your sister around to meet us?"

"Yes, I thought this would be better than having her at the clubhouse." We're on the asphalt that runs in front of the bleachers. Jezzie's forgotten all about food. She's talking to Griff and Remy, but she's twirling a lock of her colorful hair around her finger, eyes locked on Remy like he's the most fascinating thing she's seen all day. Emily's nowhere in sight. "That might've been a miscalculation."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about with Griff."

"Hmph."

I spend a few minutes bullshitting with Dex while keeping my eye on Jezzie smiling and laughing at whatever dumb shit Remy's saying. Griff keeps looking over his shoulder, like he wants to bounce.

She's an adult. She's allowed to have friends.

Just not this friend.

"This motherfucker," I growl as Remy flashes one of his panty-dropping smiles at my sister. I shove Dex out of my way and storm over the blacktop.

"No. No. Nope." I slam my arm between Remy and Jezzie and chest-bump him back a few inches. "Not happening."

Griff moves next to his buddy. And I sense Dex come up on my side.

Remy blinks and stares at me and then my arm blocking him from my sister. "The fuck?"

"Jensen!" Jezzie all but stomps her foot on the ground. "Stop." Her little hands fly into my chest with all the force of a dragonfly.

"Stay. Away. From. My. Little. Sister," I warn Remy.

Griff bursts into laughter.

"She's your sister ?" Remy asks, slowly clicking the pieces of the puzzle into place. His gaze slides to Jezzie and then to me.

"So, this is awkward as fuck." Griff jerks his thumb over his shoulder and laughs. "I'm gonna go be literally anywhere else."

"Thanks a lot, bro," Remy calls after him. "You're a big help!"

I'm glad he's finding this so funny. "You better settle the fuck down."

Dex's heavy hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes. "Remy was being polite to a guest. That's all, riiight ?" He draws out the last word to make it clear to Remy the only answer that will stop me from gutting him with my hunting knife is "yes."

"I've seen his version of polite," I say without taking my eyes off Remy. "Not this time. Not this girl."

"Fuckmuppet." Jezzie lets out an exasperated huff. "Let me go find a club so you all can beat each other over the heads." She turns and stalks away toward the picnic tables where Emily's sitting with her little sister Libby, and Shelby.

Thanks a lot Emily. You couldn't walk my sister the extra five hundred feet?

Who am I kidding. I know better than anyone how hard it is to make Jezzie do anything.

"Jiggy, I didn't know she was your sister," Remy says. "She was with Emily, so I figured she was with Lost Kings. I was trying to be polite. Like Dex said. That's all." He holds up his hands.

Fuck, yeah. I shouldn't be getting this worked up over it. Jezzie's off at college, talking to whoever the hell she wants when I'm not around. It's just…Remy. Fuck no.

"Trust me, I get it," Remy adds. "Off-limits. Message received."

My gaze strays to the track where Griff has Remy's little sister in a clinch next to his car. Heh. Hello, instant karma, my old friend.

Remy walks off, and Dex jabs his finger into my chest. "The fuck, bro?"

I rub my chest and scowl at Dex. "You really giving me shit after you just did the same thing five minutes ago?"

"One, no I didn't. Two, you weren't even here for it, so shut your mouth. Three, it's different. I don't know the dude who was rubbin' up on my girl and trying to look down her dress. And we're not trying to patch him into our support club. We know Remy and he's done a lot to help out our club." He stops his insane countdown and lowers his voice. "Including helping us bury bodies."

Remy has come through for the club a lot. We've used his bar for sit-downs with rival clubs and gangs. We used his downstairs murder room to dismember a body. He's let me take last-minute fights at his underground fighting ring when I needed some extra cash. Pays me to work as a bouncer at the fights sometimes too. And he rarely asks for anything in return. I'm not ready to admit Dex is right, though. "My reaction woulda been the same if Rav or Hustler or anyone wearing the blue and gray had been all up in her business."

"Bro, they were standing like two feet away from each other," Dex says.

Whatever. If Margot were here, her calm, reasonable manner would soothe this storm brewing in my chest with just a look. It's a beautiful day too. And she's stuck dealing with crazy families, overseeing not one, but two funerals. "You think we should invite Margot out here one of these days?"

Dex stares at me like I chopped off my dick and dropped it at his feet. "Why?"

Why the fuck did I have to say that? "Funeral home's another club business. Pine Hollow isn't actually that far from here."

"So you've given this a lot of thought?"

Only thinking about her every minute of every day.

"No, I just understand how maps work," I answer in the most dickish way possible. "She's always cooped up with dead folks. Might be good for her to hang with people her age who are still breathing."

"How altruistic of you." Dex frowns at me. "You're not going to try to hook Margot and Remy up to keep him away from your sister, are you?"

"What?" My shout echoes off the bleachers. "Fuck no."

Dex flicks his gaze to something behind me. I brace myself, expecting one of my asshole brothers—most likely Rooster—to grab me.

Sure enough, I glimpse a big hairy forearm coming down on me two seconds before I'm yanked against the hard wall of Rooster's chest. "Whatcha doin' cock-knocker?" Rooster's disgusting hot dog breath fans over the side of my face. "Causing trouble?"

"Get off me, motherclucker." I laugh and use an evasion move, ironically learned from Remy, to escape Rooster's sloppy rear naked chokehold.

"What'd you do to poor lil' Jezzie?" Shelby stomps up next to Rooster. "She's hella riled up."

She's so cute. She almost looks like one of the flamingos she loves so much when she stomps her foot like that. Not the intimidating girl power vibe I think she's going for. I adjust my cut and stare at her. "What I do , songbird."

"Tag!" Dex punches Rooster's shoulder as if he's passing off the responsibility of looking after me to Rooster.

Rooster cocks his head, while Shelby's glare could burn a hole through my forehead.

"What'd you do, big brother?" Rooster makes a goofy pouty face at me.

"Nothing." I fling my arm toward the picnic benches where she's sulking. "She's been pissy with me since I picked her up. Couldn't sit still on the bike, I almost fuckin' dropped it like ten times. And I gotta find a cage or she's apparently living at Zips, now."

"I'll get my hands on a car for you," Rooster promises.

Shelby's concerned eyes ping-pong between Rooster and me. "Awww, dang it." She glances over her shoulder.

"What?"

Shelby's mouth twists. "If I tell you, you can't say anything. I'm breaking girl code here."

Even more confused now, I shake my head.

She wags a finger between us. "We're besties now, remember? I keep your secrets, you keep mine." She tilts her head as if she's asking if I get her meaning.

"Yeah, okay."

She side-eyes Rooster, then leans up on tiptoes. I still have to bend down so she can whisper in my ear. "First thing Jezzie did when she joined us, was ask if any of us had a tampon," she whispers.

I blink and pull away as cold understanding settles over me. "Well, fuck. Why didn't she tell me? I would've pulled over and bought her whatever she needed."

Shelby stares at me. "Off the top of my head, I'm guessin' she didn't wanna go tampon shopping with her big brother."

Rooster snort-chokes into his fist.

I shoot a glare at him.

"She okay now?" I ask Shelby.

"Yeah, Heidi got her sorted with some girly products and Advil. Turns out, she's the only one of us ladies prepared for all emergencies at all times."

A laugh bursts out of me. I'm sure being a young mom taught Heidi all about the art of being prepared.

"Don't go fussin' over Jezzie," Shelby warns. "Then she'll know I told you and she'll hate me."

"I won't say a word, songbird."

Later, after many hamburgers have been consumed and a few scuffles have broken out, the lights over the track blink on, chasing away all the shadows.

People rev engines, run practice laps, line up their cars, and place bets.

Dex took Emily and Libby home. Griff gave Molly a ride home, which Remy didn't even blink at. Murphy and Heidi had to pick up their kids from Wrath and Trinity's place.

Most of the people remaining I trust. Jezzie's been hanging out with Shelby and two of the wives from our would-be support club—Ella and Juliet.

"She seems to be having fun, now," Rooster says, watching the girls.

"Yeah, I know. It's me. I'm the problem," I grumble.

He blows out a breath. "I didn't say that."

I tap my phone and check the time. Margot should be done or close to it by now. I meant what I said to Dex earlier. She could use a fun night out. "When are the races starting?" I ask.

"Any time now."

I pull myself out of the picnic bench. "Will you keep an eye on Jezzie?"

"You know it."

"I'll be right back."

I walk out to the parking lot in the hope that it'll be quieter. It's not. More people are still arriving. I wave hello to a few guys I know, but keep moving until I get to my bike.

Margot answers right away. "Hi, Jigsaw."

Satan help me. The way she says my name in that breathy little voice grabs me by the balls. "I miss you."

She sighs into the phone. "I miss you too. How's it going?"

"How'd your day go?" I ask instead.

"Long. Depressing. But we're almost done with the cleanup here."

"Do you need help?"

"No. You're with your sister." She pauses. "You are with her, right?"

"Yeah, but she's been pissy with me all day."

"Why? What'd you do?"

This woman knows me too well already. "Now, why do you assume I'm the problem."

She's silent.

"Well, I picked her up on my bike and we rode here," I answer, trying to picture Margot's face. "She wasn't comfortable. Said she's never ridden that long before which I know isn't true. But she's refusing to ride home." I'm not going to get into what Shelby told me over the phone.

Margot laughs for several long seconds. "Do you want to borrow my car?"

"I can get my hands on a car." I want to see Margot. Be with her. Introduce her to my sister. Not borrow her damn car. "That's not why I called."

"I don't mind."

"Why don't you come to Zips with me?"

"You want to leave your bike here and take my car?"

Shit, yeah, I guess I have to. "That's fine."

"All right. I'll get ready."

Margot

Jigsaw: On my way.

I'm tired and need a shower but I can't stop smiling at my phone.

Me: About to get in the shower. I'll be ready when you get here.

He responds with a devil-face emoji.

Laughing, I enter my apartment.

"Gretel, I'm home."

She's nowhere in sight. I guess if I want someone to greet me at the door, I need to get a dog.

I hurry through my shower, washing the grief and sadness off my skin.

What do people wear to clandestine racetracks in the middle of the night? I wander through my closet, running my fingers over different outfits, and finally land on a pair of jeans. I swipe through my T-shirts and find a black one with an image of a tarot card design of a skeleton holding a black cat. I shove my feet into my favorite blue-and-pink Adidas Gazelles platform sneakers, so I don't feel so short around all of Jigsaw's giant friends.

Nerves flutter in my stomach. He's really introducing me to his sister already? And his friends. What we have is getting more and more real every day.

I grab my keys and my purse and head down to the first floor, bumping into Paul, still wearing the suit he wore for the services today, coming up the stairs.

"Where you off to?" He gives me a tired smile.

"Just out. Meeting some people."

His lips curl into a teasing smirk. "You're going out with that biker guy, aren't you?"

Heat sears my cheeks.

As if the Harley pipes were designed to rat me out, the rumble of Jigsaw's bike thunders out on the street.

Paul bursts out laughing. "That thing isn't exactly quiet. I know he's been here a lot lately."

"I like him," I whisper.

"Good." He squeezes my arm. "Have fun."

I give him a quick, impulsive hug. "Thanks."

The engine cuts off near the side of the house and I hurry down the rest of the way.

Jigsaw's stepping onto the back porch when I open the door. "Hey."

"Hi, gorgeous." A broad smile stretches across his face. "You look cute." He nods to my shirt. "Is The Cat Lady an official tarot card?"

"No. But I thought it was cute." I close the door behind me and join him outside.

He pulls me into his arms and leans down, brushing his lips over mine. "You're cute."

I curl my fingers in his shirt, holding him to me for a few extra seconds. "I'm happy you called."

"I missed you." He wraps his gloved hand around mine and we cross the parking lot to the garages.

The cool air coasting over my bare arms feels nice after being in my stuffy blazer all day.

"Shelby will love the shirt," Jigsaw says as the garage door rolls up. "She's into reading tarot cards."

"Really? Is she good at it?"

He glances down at me, an affectionate smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I think so."

"How have I lived here my whole life and never known this place existed?"

Jigsaw glances at the overgrown grass and weathered, barely legible sign for Zips racetrack. "It probably hasn't been popular since before you had your license. All kinds of people race and gamble here now. They do theme nights sometimes. Drag racers, street legal, import only, American, whatever."

He steers my car around the outside of the racing area, following a smaller dirt road into the closed track area. He effortlessly backs my car into a spot at the end of a lot of other done up cars lined up along a fence.

"I think your car will be safer here than out in the lot," he explains.

"Thanks."

He takes my hand and we walk through the grass, passing little white buildings with long, sliding windows in the front—like the kind of place you'd buy cotton candy and hot dogs from at a fair.

"In the summer, they'll have fried dough and stuff in some of these booths," Jigsaw explains.

"Oh, yum. I haven't had fried dough in years."

Hard boots slap over the packed dirt path, running up behind us.

Jigsaw swears under his breath and turns around. "Don't do it, fucker."

Grinning like a fool, Rooster slows his steps. "So close." His gaze drops to me. "Hey, Margot."

"Is this your way of watching my sister?" Jigsaw asks.

"She's right there." He points straight ahead to a group of girls standing around a red 90s Ford Mustang with bold white stripes painted down the hood. Two of them are about my height. For once, I won't feel like the shortest one in the group.

The place is lit up with floodlights. Engines roar, exhaust fumes tickle my nose, and plumes of smoke billow in the air.

"For an illicit racing ring, there sure are a lot of cars here," I say to Jigsaw.

"Shit, half of them probably belong to Remy's crew," Rooster says. He slaps Jigsaw's shoulder and jogs ahead of us.

"Remy's here?" I say to Jigsaw.

"Yeah, he's here all right," he grumbles. One corner of his mouth kicks up. "Your friend Torch is here too."

I roll my eyes skyward. "I sent him my sorry I can't make it text yesterday, so I don't know why you're still bent out of shape."

He rumbles with laughter and pulls me closer, kissing the top of my head.

"What's so funny?"

"I like when you call me out. Wish you'd been here earlier."

"You didn't gloat to Torch, did you?"

"Fuck no. I didn't even talk to him today. Dex almost kicked his ass for chatting up his girlfriend."

"Gee, Torch sure gets around," I mutter.

"Is my lady death jealous?" he whispers in my ear.

"No." I turn my head quickly and kiss his cheek.

"What's that for?"

"I'm happy to be here with you tonight."

The serious lines of his face melt into a genuine smile. "Come on, I want you to meet my sister."

One of the young women by the Mustang breaks from the pack and strolls toward us.

"There she is." Jigsaw beams. "Apologies in advance," he mutters under his breath.

On edge after the warning, a shaky smile spreads over my lips to greet her.

When she's close enough, Jigsaw wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her to his side. Annoyed with him or not, she tips her head back and looks at him with affection in her eyes.

"Margot, this is my sister, Jezzie."

I'm so nervous to meet his only relative that my hand shakes as I reach for hers. She holds it for a few seconds. Staring at my face for so long, I fight the urge to twitch and yank my hand back.

Shaking off Jigsaw's arm, she leans closer and stage-whispers, "Blink twice if you're being held hostage."

"What?" I let out a nervous laugh and pull away.

"Knock it off," Jigsaw groans.

"No, no, no. You're too pretty and wholesome for my brother." She lowers her voice. "Did he hypnotize you?"

"Only with his charm." And his big dick, but I don't think you want to have that conversation. I smile up at Jigsaw and take his hand.

"Huh, I haven't met that version of him, yet. He sounds swell, though." Jezzie grins and throws a light punch at his shoulder.

He pretends to flinch. "Har. Har. You're hilarious. Really."

"Sorry, Margot." Jezzie turns more serious eyes on me. "He embarrassed me earlier, but I shouldn't take it out on you."

"Why'd you do that?" I ask him.

He widens his eyes and presses his free hand to his chest like I've mortally wounded him. "Why do you automatically assume she's telling the truth?"

"Because I have older brothers too."

He chuckles. "I didn't embarrass her. I just shooed away a certain hound dog."

I roll my eyes at his innocent explanation.

Jezzie grins. "I talk to boys at school all the time and you never know about it." Her smile fades. "Don't ask me to hang out with your friends if I'm not allowed to talk to them."

"I can't win," Jigsaw mutters. "Whatever. You're a big girl. Do whatever you want. When he breaks your heart, I'll have to kill him. Then I'll be in prison, so please promise to bring me a cake with a nail file baked in it."

"What if I break his heart?"

"I'm fine with that."

Jezzie leans up and throws her arms around her brother's neck and pops a quick kiss on his cheek. "Aww, I love you."

"Have you been drinking?" he asks.

"Ugh." She lets out a disgusted snort and backs away from him. "I can't even say anything nice, now?"

"I'm just not used to it." A playful grin twitches at the corner of his mouth. "It's confusing."

He's left shaking his head while Jezzie skips back to the other women.

"You two are covering up a lot of pain with all those ‘jokes,' aren't you?" I peer up at him and tilt my head.

His lips pinch together. "Pain, resentment, guilt. All those good, healthy emotions."

I shake my head. "That's not healthy at all. She seems like she can handle herself pretty well." I don't want to say for someone who grew up in a cult , because that sounds terrible, but I think he senses it.

He pulls me off the dirt path into the shadows between two of the buildings. "I don't want to be like our dad, trying to control her every decision." I can barely see his expression in the weak, hazy moonlight, but the pain in his voice is clear. "But I also can't stand the thought of anyone ever hurting her again." He drops his gaze. "And I think there's some resentment on her end."

"Why?"

He blows out a long breath. "Because when I got her away from our father, I sent her to live with our aunt. She was a safe place for Jezzie. But I think Jezzie thought she was going to come live with me . And I didn't really have the right living arrangements for that."

"Did your aunt take care of her?"

"Yeah, they're really close now. But at the time, I was basically leaving her with a stranger." He shrugs. "I'd probably do things a little differently now. But you can't change the past, right?"

"Very true." I study him for a few seconds, not sure if he'll be receptive to what I want to say. "Maybe you can tell her that?"

"Admit I was wrong?" His eyes widen in jovial surprise. "What kind of big brother do you think I am?"

Laughing, I shake my head. "I don't actually think you were wrong. You said it yourself, your aunt was a safe environment. I think you made the smartest decision you could, under the circumstances. But you can tell her you have regrets too and that you wish things could've been different. Or maybe just listen to her?"

"But we do the barb and banter thing so well."

I've said enough. "Yes, you do."

He squeezes my hand. "Thank you. I'll have to think about it. Maybe I'll ride out to campus and take her out for dinner or something one night so we can talk."

"That's a great idea."

"Do you want to come and be referee?"

I think he's testing the water with his teasing tone, but underneath it, he's serious. "I will if you want me to, but I think it's better if it's just the two of you."

"Maybe you're right." He smirks, a shadow of his usual cockiness returning. "I'll do my best to keep it civil but no promises."

I blow out an exasperated breath and try to hide my laughter.

"Come on." He curls his hand around mine again. "I want you to meet Shelby when you're not riding a pot brownie high."

"Oh my God." I press my hand to my forehead. "I'll never live that down, will I?"

Shelby runs up to us. "Hi, Margot! Oh my God, I love your shirt! Did Jiggy tell you we?—"

" Bestie ," Jigsaw draws out the word in a low, warning tone.

I flick my gaze between the two of them. "You what?"

"Nothin'. Come here, so you can meet everyone." Shelby threads her elbow through mine and pulls me toward the Mustang. "I'm so happy you joined us tonight!"

"Thanks." Her enthusiasm is infectious and she seems so genuine. I already like her. We stop in front of two women who I recognize from the night at Remy's bar.

"Margot!" Ella shouts, sliding off the back of the car and landing on the ground with a muted thump from her heavy Dr. Martens boots. Her gaze shoots to something—or someone—behind me. "I, uh, didn't realize you were with Jigsaw."

She shakes that off and drags the redhead by her side closer.

Shelby pats the woman on the shoulder. "This is Dex's niece, Juliet."

I turn, seeking Jigsaw's attention. Isn't he worried it will get back to Dex or his other club brothers that we were out together?

He steps up next to me and slips his arm around my shoulders in a possessive way that makes it obvious we're together .

Apparently, he's not worried about his club finding out.

"Ladies, how many races did you win tonight?" he asks.

Ella ripples with laughter. "None. This car's a dog. Eraser wants to strip it for parts."

"I thought you never lose?" Jigsaw teases.

"I blame the car." She pats the side panel.

While Ella, Shelby, and the others talk about the car, I pull Jigsaw aside.

"You're not worried Juliet will tell Dex about us?"

His jovial expression slides into a serious, but affectionate one. "No, I'm not worried about it." He tips his head back and stares at the night sky for a few beats. "I think I'm going to tell them myself."

A surge of excitement and anxiety tangles in my chest. We've admitted to ourselves that what we have is no longer just a fling. But if he's ready to tell his club, it's not just real—it's everything.