Page 134 of Collect the Pieces

If only she understood hownotokay I am.

I’d kill a man just because he hurt her feelings.

Is that love or madness?

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Jigsaw

Margot: Got my period.

Hal-le-fucking-lu-jah

Me: Need anything?

Margot: Advil and Sleep. I’m exhausted.

Is she telling me not to come over?

I stare at my phone, waiting for, what? An invitation?

Fuck it, I’m halfway to her house anyway.

We haven’t spoken about her ex again—except that I made her promise to tell me if he ever shows up at her house. I don’t want him alone with her for any reason.

“You seem moodier than usual,” Remy says, swiping a rag over the bar top way too close to my hands.

I swat his dishtowel away and glance around the bar. The place is quiet. No handsy assholes bothering Remy’s little sister that I need to threaten with my hunting knife tonight. Just two old guys who look like they’re capping off a day of fishing with a beer. Nothing that needs my attention. “You mind if I head out?”

He stops and stares at me. “You’re asking my permission?”

This kid. Sometimes, I respect him almost as much as I want to punch him. “Well, I was supposed to be here helping you out.”

He checks out the nearly empty dining area. “Yeah, I don’t think we’re going to get much more traffic tonight. Why, got a hot date?” His lips twitch like he thinks he’s clever, then his eyes widen. “Are you still seeing Margot?”

Not as much as I’d like.Hell, I’d hover over her like the ghost of needy boyfriends present, all day, every day, if I didn’t think it would drive her nuts. “Yes,” I growl. “Why?”

He holds up his hands and backs up a step. “Just making conversation. She’s a nice woman.”

She’s theperfectwoman. Kind, sexy, smart, and deadly. My favorite blend.

Ignoring his comment about my woman, I ask, “You have cookies or anything chocolate back there?” I nod toward the kitchen.

“Uh, these gooey chocolate brownie things Molly insisted we add to the menu. You microwave them. And, if you want to go into diabetic shock, top it off with ice cream.” He shrugs. “They’re good but no one really orders them here.”

“That sounds good. Can I get two of them to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” He taps the bar top and swaggers down the hallway to the kitchen. “Hold tight.”

I pull out my phone again, re-reading Margot’s message. Advil and Sleep. I’d skipped over that first part.

Me: You need me to pick that up for you on my way over?

Look how easy that was to invite myself to spend the night.

Margot: No, it’s okay.

Is that a “no don’t come over?” Or “no, I have enough Advil?”

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