Page 39 of Collect the Pieces

Margot…she’s stronger than she looks. Brave as hell underneath her sweet exterior. Still, the thought of anyone fucking with her for shits and giggles turns my thoughts down a rage-fueled path.

“I know you’re not sure about the whole weekend,” Hope says. “But are you at least staying Friday night?”

“I’d like to.” As long as Margot’s comfortable and having a good time.

“I’ll make sure there’s a room available for you two.” Hope lifts her chin toward the staircase. “Or, if she’s not comfortable here, our guest room is open.”

Rock side-eyes her but doesn’t say anything.

I’d rather sleep outside and take my chances with the bears roaming through the woods, than sleep under Rock’s roof. It’s well-known that our upstate president values his privacy, and I have no intention of being the asshole invading it.

“I won’t keep you.” Hope squeezes my arm. “Go get breakfast. Or razz Rooster. Whatever you usually do for fun.”

“I think I’ll mix it up and razz Roosterwhileeating breakfast today.” I grin at her.

She returns the smile. “Good plan.”

“Thanks for keeping your knife in its sheath.” Rock pierces me with a stern stare. Not a trace of amusement to be found on his granite-cold face.

Fuck me, he’s never gonna let that one go, is he?

Instead of reminding him I came here today like a good little soldier to keep the club informed, I vacate the area.

I head down the long, empty hall to the dining room. The hum of lively—and vulgar—conversation drifts toward me before I even reach the swinging doors.

But my appetite’s already fading.

I’ll have Margot with me here this weekend.

The last time she was around the whole club was Teller’s wedding and she spent most of the night baked out of her mind on Sparky’s brownies.

She’ll be stone-cold sober this time. Instead of the peacefulness she’s used to, it’ll be loud and rowdy.

It’ll be fine. Right?

Except…what if it’s not?

What if one of my brothers makes her uncomfortable? What if the old ladies—hell, what if Hope, the closest thing to a mom the club has—senses the darkness in Margot and starts asking the wrong questions?

I roll my shoulders back and crack my neck, pushing the thoughts down. Not going to happen. Margot’s used to dealing with all sorts of people.

This is different.

Whether they admit it or not, the brothers will want to test Margot. And MC parties are rarely completely bunny-free. One or two will find their way up here.

Doesn’t matter. I’ll protect her. From the outside world. From the club. From anyone who looks at her wrong.

Still, the thought lingers as I shove through the doors.

What if bringing her here is a mistake that ruins everything?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Margot

What doesa woman wear to a party at her boyfriend’s motorcycle club? I had joked with Jigsaw about wearing something that would allow us to be frisky in the woods, but it’s supposed to be chilly tonight. It’s a bonfire in the woods—doesn’t seem like a dressy affair. I stroll through my closet, running one hand along the long row of clothes to my right. I want to look nice. What if I run into one of those muffler bunnies Jigsaw warned me about? I need to look like I belong with a man like him when I’m on his turf.

Although having him chase me through the woods and pin me to a tree while he lifts my dress has been a fantasy playing on a loop in my head all day, I’d rather be comfortable and not risk flashing my underwear to the whole party if we end up sitting on a blanket near the bonfire.

---