Page 78 of Collect the Pieces

He scowls as that memory sinks in. “Who brought her up here again?”

“That’s what I’m askingyou, VP.”

He shrugs like he’s completely blameless in the situation. “Serena must’ve told Grinder she was cool.”

“Don’t blame Serena.” Hell, why am I taking this out on Rooster? It’s my own damn fault. I should’ve gotten off my ass and walked the girls to the clubhouse sooner.

He sighs in exasperation. “I’m not.”

Finally, the door opens. Shelby steps out first. Her gaze lands on Rooster and she beams. Margot peeks out and gives me a sheepish sort of smile.

All the tension that gathered in my chest releases. She’s fine and she’s not mad.

Shelby glances toward the clubhouse living room and giggles. “Dee-Dee better’ve run off to warn the other bunnies that Margot isnotto be fucked with.”

“How’s that?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” Margot shrugs and stares up at me with innocent eyes. “All I did was show her the shiny end of the pretty knife you gave me.”

Rooster chokes out a confused laugh.

I stare at her. Is she serious? Fucking with me?

More importantly—is there actually a heaven? Because Margot has to be sent from above.

Margot shrugs again. Tension drags the corners of her mouth down. Shit, she’s trying to act cooler than she’s feeling.

I curl my arm around her waist and drag her closer. “We’re going to head upstairs. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Rooster says in awhatevertone. “Night.”

“Night, Margot,” Shelby calls out.

“Thank you, Shelby,” Margot says over her shoulder.

The few bunnies we pass on our way to the stairs take one look at us and avert their eyes. Maybe word has spread—my woman is ferocious. Cross her at your own peril.

I’m grinning from ear to ear by the time we reach our room. Margot, not so much.

As soon as I close the door behind us, she turns and faces me. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Her bottom lip wobbles. “I’m sorry.”

“Done what?”

She lifts her gaze, and I can’t tell if that’s genuine remorse or sinister satisfaction in her eyes. I’m kind of hoping for the second one. “Threatened dumb-haircut girl with my knife.”

Laughter bursts out of me. “What?”

“I don’t want your brothers to be mad that I threatened someone in their clubhouse.”

Ah, that’s what’s bothering her. Not the confrontation with the girl.

She purses her lips into a remorseful pout. “It was a little extreme.”

“Yeah, I don’t care about that. And no one else will either. Did you actually stab her?”

“God, no.”

“Then we’re good. She shouldn’t have cornered you.” I hold out my arms. “Come here.”

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