Page 69 of Collect the Pieces

Rav stands and brushes off his jeans. “Well, that was definitely spooky. Thanks, Margot.”

“Wait, I’m not done.”

Rav freezes in place, staring at her. “What do you mean you’re not done?”

“Oh my God,” Z mutters.

“Imagine my surprise that night, when I’m getting ready for bed…” Margot stops and takes a dramatic breath. “And find the doll sitting on my nightstand.”

Different people shout, “No!” or “No way!”

Margot holds up a hand like she’s swearing an oath. “I swear to everything under the sun.”

“There had to be more than one of these dolls.” Wrath’s smug face suggests he thinks he’s unraveled the whole story. “Right? This lady was just fucking with you.”

Margot tilts her head as if she’d once considered that idea, then discarded it. “I thought it might be a possibility.”

“There’s no way.” Teller frowns. “That’s fucked up.”

Look at Mr. Logic getting all flustered.

“I thought so too.” Margot’s lips twist with amusement. “I tried calling the daughter to ask about the doll—if she wanted it back.”

“And?” Hope prompts.

“Her number was disconnected.”

“What a bitch,” Trinity sputters. “She stuck you with her family’s creepy, haunted doll?”

“Seemed that way,” Margot agrees. “I’d had enough. I marched outside and threw her in the crematorium and cranked it high.”

Rav stands again. “Great story. Thank you, Margot.” He slow-claps.

Margot purses her lips, like she’s trying not to laugh.

I have a feeling she’s still not done.

“Don’t say it,” I mutter.

Margot turns her mischievous gaze on me, her lips curving into a faint, wicked smile. “Yup. It should’ve been burned to ash. But when I went back to my room, she was sitting right on my nightstand again.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Margot

I haveto stop myself from giggling at the chorus of “bullshit!” the brothers yell at me.

“I’m serious,” I insist. “The back of it was charred a little but otherwise it was perfectly fine.”

Wrath stares at her. “What. The. Fuck?”

I turn my palms up and spread them wide.

“No fucking way!” Ravage explodes. “Of all the things that never happened, that never happened the most.”

“No.” Lilly sits up, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. “Kikimoras aren’t something you want to mess around with. If that’s what it was, you’re lucky she wasn’t more destructive, Margot.”

Lilly grins and winks at me, clearly enjoying the chance to give my story credibility.

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