Page 120 of Collect the Pieces

Teller snorts and shakes his head, shooting Z awhat the fuckface.

“How’s Margot?” Teller asks.

Fucking hell.He’s going to forever think his business deal with Margot’s dad means he gets to stick his nose in my relationship.

I jam my hands farther in my pockets and glare at Teller. “We’re fine.”

“She working today?” Z asks.

“Yeah.”

“That’s too bad,” Teller says. “I was hoping she’d come up again soon.”

“Why?”

He frowns and shrugs at me. “Because she’s your girlfriend,” he answers slowly, like he’s speaking to someone a few fries short of a Happy Meal. “She’s funny. Everyone liked having her here.”

I blow out a breath and relax. “She wanted to come today, but they have a service going on.”

Rock’s still staring at me with that intense expression that makes me feel like he can unscrew the top of my head and see the thoughts bouncing around inside my skull. “You sure everything’s all right?”

“Don’t you have enough kids to papa-bear?” I elbow Teller’s side while meeting Rock’s less than amused stare. “I’m fine.”

Brothers do not let ol’ ladies interfere with club business. I can’t tell either president I want to skip church because I have a badfeelingthat some guy might be mean to my girlfriend. They’d probably strip my patch.

Rock finally nods and starts toward the clubhouse.

Z moves closer to me. “You sure you’re good?”

When I don’t answer right away, Teller smacks my shoulder and walks around behind me to catch up with Rock.

From the corner of my eye, I note they’re still standing outside.

Fuck it.I blow out a breath and answer Z’s question. “I’m fine.” I keep my voice low. “It’s just…Margot’s ex showed up for the funeral today and I didn’t like leaving her with him around.”

Instead of cracking a joke about my caveman need to mark my territory, Z scowls. “He hurt her or something?”

I take a long, slow breath, considering my answer. Unfortunately, Rock and Teller take the pause as an opportunity to walk the few feet and rejoin our conversation. “Not physically, no. At least, I don’t think so. But I think he was emotionally or mentally abusive based on shit she’s said and some of the ways she reacts to stuff.” I shrug. “I didn’t care for the way he spoke to her when I was standing right there with one hand on my hunting knife.”

“So, he’s a dumb motherfucker too,” Z says.

I expel a huff of agreement.

“Her dad there today?” Teller asks with a note of concern.

“Yeah. And her cousin. It’ll be a full house for the funeral. That’s the only reason I was able to leave her,” I admit.

Z glances at the clubhouse, then Teller, and finally Rock. “Church will be quick,” Z says. “Winter’s coming. We’re not going on any major runs right now.”

“Keeping things copacetic at Cedarwood’s is kinda club business.” Teller shrugs.

I open my mouth to protest that my relationship is absolutely the fucknotclub business.

Teller’s trying to help me out here.

I snap my mouth shut.

Z opens his mouth, but he’s drowned out by the rumble of Rooster’s bike rounding the corner of the clubhouse. He nods at the four of us and slowly backs his bike into a space a few feet away from mine.

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