Page 141 of Collect the Pieces

Rooster elbows me as he sits forward, a printout of Stella’s email clenched in his fist, and sweeps his gaze up and down our long table. “Stella has a request for money.” He throws a cranky look Z’s way. “I know how much you’re going to love this, Prez.”

“Stop fucking around,” Z grumbles, already exasperated. “Share her brilliant deviance so we can get it over with, please.”

“She wants to…” Rooster closes his eyes and silently retches.

“Now, now. Don’t be so judgmental,” Butcher scolds, wagging his finger between Z and Rooster. “Aren’t you two always saying she’s the club’s most profitable asset?”

“No. She’s our biggestpainin theasset,” Hustler corrects. He lifts his chin at Rooster. “Why’d she emailyou, anyway? I’m the money guy.”

“That’s what I said,” I mutter.

Rooster shrugs. “Probably because I handle all her website stuff. I’ll be more than happy to send her your way for this fuckery next time.” He throws a stink-eye at Z. “She assumesI’mher club point-of-contact now that you’re wifed up and won’t take her calls.”

Z’s dimpled grin holds zero apologies. “Sorry about that, brother.”

“No you’re not.” Rooster laughs.

“Uh, she looped me in as well.” I raise my hand. “And I would like to officially unsubscribe, please.”

“Aw.” Butcher makes a kissy face at me from across the table. “What’s wrong, your pretty little girlfriend get mad that a hot porn star emails you in the middle of the night?”

“Shut the fuck up about my ol’ lady.” I lean forward. “She doesn’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Rooster snorts. “Amen. The fewer people who know, the better.”

Loud banging vibrates against the table. I turn toward the far end where Grip and Brew are drumming their palms against the edge, drowning out any conversation.

“What’s the porn proposal?” Grip shouts like an impatient three-year-old. “We wanna hear it noooow!”

“Settle the fuck down,” Grinder snaps.

“You two need a snack and a nap or somethin’?” Eazy asks.

“Come on. It sounds like it’s gonna be good,” Brew says. “We wanna hear it.”

Rooster shakes his head. “I assure you, it’s not good.” He focuses his stare on our two rowdy brothers until they’re quiet, then stands.

“Christ, you need to stand for this?” Z mutters.

Rooster spreads his hands wide. “Give me a break, Prez.” He glances at the pages spread out on the table. The last one’s covered with his blocky handwriting. “She wants to ‘expand’ on her current genre of meeting up with one or two randos in a hotel to film them fucking.”

Z sits forward, eyes narrowed. “Expand, meaningwhat?”

“Well, Prez.” Rooster throws him a disgusted scowl. “Meaningexpand. She wants to…” He scrubs a hand over his face like he needs to physically cleanse himself before saying it.

“We’re not gettin’ any younger, Rooster, spit it out,” Grinder says.

“Some of us more than others,” I mutter loud enough for Grinder to hear.

“Keep it up, you ain’t gonna getanyolder.”

I grin at him. Grinder’s so fun to provoke sometimes.

Rooster stares at the paper like he’s contemplating setting it on fire with the power of his eyeballs. “She wants to put out an open casting call—for one hundred guys.” He glances down at the papers again. “No, I’m sorry. One hundred andone.”

Silence.

Hustler blinks. “To do what?”

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