Page 128 of Collect the Pieces

“Get in my belly,” I sing to the cookies as I flip the cover back and grab one off the plate, stuffing it in my mouth.

“They’re so good,” I mumble, spraying crumbs everywhere.

I plop the plate on the counter in front of Rooster. He lifts an eyebrow.

“What? You like cookies.”

“Yeah,” he answers slowly, reaching for one. “I don’t sing to them, though.”

He takes a bite and nods approvingly. “So, are we going to talk about that guy?” He keeps his voice low. “What’s the deal?”

Cookie chunks lodge in my throat. I cough and take a sip of water. “I don’t know.”

“Better find out. He seems like a real asshole.”

I don’t want to share my suspicions when Margot’s only a few rooms away. “No shit.”

Gretel scurries into the kitchen and lets out a loud, “Mwraar” as she twines herself around my legs.

“Hey, girl.” I bend down to pick her up and she purrs so hard, her sleek, fuzzy little body vibrates against my hands.

Rooster stares at me like I’ve grown an extra head.

“What?” I turn the cat toward him. “Gretel, don’t be scared. He’s all doodle-do and very little cock-a.”

Gretel head-butts me and rubs her head against my chin as if she agrees whole-heartedly with my nonsense joke.

Rooster reaches out a hand, letting it hover in the air. “Can I pet her, or will she attack me?”

“I don’t know.” I walk around to the other side of the counter. “Let’s find out.”

“She hasn’t attacked anyone, yet!” Margot calls out from somewhere down the hallway.

“That’s reassuring,” Rooster mutters, eyeing Gretel with suspicion. He hesitates, then slowly extends his hand. The cat gives it a cautious sniff before rubbing her head against his fingers, purring louder.

“Gretel approves,” I announce loud enough for Margot to hear.

He pets her for a few seconds, and then she returns to rubbing her head on my chin.

He huffs. “Do you sneak her extra treats or something?”

“Don’t be jealous.” I shrug and set Gretel down. “I’ve always told you females of all species find me charming.”

Rooster rolls his eyes. “Margot’s such a saint.”

Yes, but I’ve taught her how to be a good little sinner.

He glances around the apartment, his gaze skipping over the long bookcase taking up an entire wall. “This is nice up here.”

“Were you worried I was spending all my time in the cold room downstairs?” I glance over my shoulder and lower my voice. “With the bodies?”

He pauses for a few too many beats. “No.”

Somewhere in the back of the apartment water rushes from the shower into the tub. I force myself not to salivate and hunt Margot down in the shower. Instead, I grab another cookie off the plate and set it on a napkin, then break off a piece. “Where do you want to grab dinner?” I pop the piece of cookie in my mouth, savoring the sweet, chocolaty chewiness.

“I don’t have to tag along to dinner with you two,” he protests.

“Bro, I’ve literally third-wheeled it with you and Shelby multiple times. Across the country.” I spin my finger in the air like a bus wheel. “Shared tight quarters in the RV.”

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