Page 146 of Collect the Pieces

I jerk my shoulder loose from his grip and spin my bar stool around to face him. “Just discussing all the many reasons it’s a good thing we voted it down, Prez.”

He glances at Rooster, then me, his jaw tightening while he drags his hand through his already messy black hair. “I’m sorry you have to deal with her. I thought you’d only be working on her website. Maybe connect with her when she sends you content to upload. Not get into stuff like this.”

Rooster leans his elbows back on the bar. “I don’t mind, Prez,” he says, his tone easy, but his pinched expression suggests something more. “Well, unless she asks me questions aboutyou.” He holds up his hands, palms up like he’s preparing to ward off Z’s wrath. “I tell her I’m not gonna discuss your personal business with her but she always tries.”

Z’s face darkens, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck for?” he snaps, his voice rising enough to draw the attention of a few brothers. “Once she found out I had a kid, she was thrilled I dumped her.” Z squeezes his eyes shut, pinching the bridgeof his nose like he’s trying to push a bad memory away. “She jumped back on Sway’s dick so fast, I thought she was over it.”

Rooster shrugs. “I’m just letting you know.”

Z’s eyes narrow. “She talk shit about Lilly?”

“Never,” Rooster says. “Kinda acts like she doesn’t exist, honestly.”

“For fuck’s sake. I don’t need this.”

“Sorry, Prez.” Rooster pats his shoulder. “Hustler and I will handle it.”

“Anyone hear from Sway recently?” I ask. “Maybe he can talk to her?”

Z scowls at me. “He’s the one who got us into this mess in the first place.”

“Yeah, I know,” I answer slowly. “Maybe that’s whyheshould deal with this.” I tap the patch on my chest. “He ‘retired.’ He didn’t get ex-communicated.”

“If I talk to him, I’ll mention it,” Z says. “You sticking around?”

I really should put in some facetime with my club. I’ve either been at Margot’s or at Upstate’s clubhouse lately. “Yeah, for a little while.”

“Good.” Z slaps my back. “I miss your witty commentary.”

“Don’t encourage him, Prez,” Rooster groans.

“It’s good to have you home,” Z says before taking off.

Too bad it doesn’t feel like home anymore.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Margot

My consultationearlier in the week went well and I’ve been nonstop working on the arrangements, fighting with suppliers to get the right casket here, drafting the obituary, and preparing the legal paperwork. There are so many pieces involved in putting a funeral together, and I enjoy working my way through the chaos so the family doesn’t have to.

But by midweek, I hit a snag.

I can’t finalize any of the arrangements.

As much as I hate having to ask my father for assistance, I’m stumped.

I stop in his doorway. “Dad?”

He glances at me and sets his pen down. “What is it, Margot?”

“I still haven’t received a signed death certificate from the medical examiner’s office for Mrs. Baker.”

“Did you call them?”

I grit my teeth.Why does he always assume I messed up?“Yes, but they won’t give me a straight answer and can’t tell me when they’ll release the body. Has that happened to you before?”

His eyebrows draw down, deep furrows lining his forehead. “Only in unusual circumstances. Let me call and check.”

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