Page 28 of Collect the Pieces

His forehead wrinkles. “It’ll have to be later. Sorry you had to deal with that.”

“It’s fine.” I drop my gaze and pluck at an invisible piece of lint on my blazer. “Jigsaw’s helping me prepare the viewing room.”

“That’s…” He pauses for so long, I drag my gaze up to his face. “Very nice of him,” he finishes.

“Coming through,” Paul shouts.

My father and I side-step away from the door. Paul bustles in, balancing platters of snacks in his arms and heads straight for the kitchen.

Footsteps thud along the floor behind me. It can only be Jigsaw and my heart flutters in anticipation.

A smile lifts my father’s face. “Morning. Margot says you’ve been helping out. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” Jigsaw stops behind me, so close his warmth spreads over my back. “I didn’t want to leave Margot alone when there were so many people coming in and out.”

His tone carries an edge of judgment. And here I’d been worried he was going to mention he spent the night—not that Dad couldn’t figure that out on his own. Instead, he’s implying, what? I need a babysitter to do my own job?

Anger heats my blood. I grit my teeth and force a smile.

“Yes,” my father says smoothly. “We’re a bit short-handed this morning.”

“I need to run downstairs,” I say.

Dad nods once. “Meet me in the office when you’re done.”

I take a right, heading down the hallway. It’s not until I pause at the basement door that I realize Jigsaw’s right behind me.

“Are you my shadow now?” I ask, pushing the door open and hurrying down the stairs.

“What?” He pounds down the stairs behind me.

I stop at the bottom and glance up. He left the door open.

Shaking my head, I turn the corner. “You realize I’ve done this job for a while, right? I don’t need you telling my dad you stuck around to babysit me.”

He scowls. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t want toleave me alone,” I mimic in a deep voice that sounds nothing like Jigsaw’s.

“Because you said you’d have vendors coming in and out.” His voice rises with frustration. “I wasn’t implying you’re not capable.” He clenches his jaw. “I don’t trust people.You, of all people, should understandwhy.”

Ihavebeen alone with more than one vendor who made me uncomfortable, but I’d rather bite off my tongue than admit it right now.

“You know I’m right,” he insists.

I glare at him, my stubbornness digging in. “I know no such thing.”

He jerks his chin. “Come on, get your bulbs.”

I let out a huff of annoyance and spin around, heading for a large metal supply cabinet.

Jigsaw doesn’t move or say a word.

I grab a small stepladder and drag it closer to the shelves.

“Demons give me strength,” he mutters behind me. “Why are you being so difficult?” He grabs the stepladder, pushing it aside. “Put that away. I’m standing right here.” He runs his gaze over the shelves. “Which ones?”

I point to the second highest shelf. “The first two white boxes.”

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