Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
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.”