Page 210 of Scatter the Bones

Jezzie stops to give Rooster a quick hug.

“Hey, Jezz.” He pats her back, then turns to Cain.

“Cain, this is my friend Logan,” Jigsaw says. “Everyone calls him Rooster.”

Rooster lifts an eyebrow, like he’s waiting for Jigsaw to tack on something obnoxious.

Cain dips his chin. “Hey, Logan. I remember you.”

“I remember you too. Glad you found your way here.”

Cain’s mouth curves—not a full smile, but close.

“Did Shelby come with you?” Jezzie asks.

Cain’s eyebrows rise. “He’sthe one engaged to Shelby Morgan?”

“Yeah, I told you that,” Jezzie says.

Rooster’s jaw shifts like he’s fighting off a laugh. “Yeah. She’s over by the picnic tables with the girls.” He nods to Cain. “She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

The five of us head toward the track. Rooster drifts closer to Jigsaw, the three of us walking just behind Cain and Jezzie.

“Everything all right?” Rooster asks in a low voice.

“Yeah, I think so.” Jigsaw tilts his head, studying his friend. “You?”

“Not really. Torch brought this guy—Buck? He’s gettin’ sloppy drunk. Mouthy with some of the girls. Pax says if he keeps it up, we’re tossing him.”

Jigsaw squeezes my hand, the pressure a silent order. “Stay with me.”

I nod. “You know if he says something to me, I’ll give him the tongue-lashing of his life, right?”

“Yeah, but he might like that.”

I snort and roll my eyes.

A group’s gathered around one of the food trucks at the edge of the track. Some guys I recognize from the club and a handful of people I’ve never met. One of them saunters toward the picnic tables. He plops down at a table where Heidi, Ella, Shelby, Molly, and some other girls are sitting.

“Looks like a guy-free zone he just crashed without an invite,” I mutter under my breath.

“Noted,” Jigsaw growls beside me, his eyes narrowing as he tracks the guy’s every move.

Griff approaches with his hand out, still sporting the bruised evidence of his recent win. The dark blotches on his cheekbone and jaw make me wince.

Jigsaw grips his hand, pulling him in for a rough hug and clap on the back. “How you feelin’, bro?”

Griff’s whole face lights up. “Sittin’ on top of the world, honestly.”

“Yeah, you are,” Rooster adds, tugging him in for a quick bro-hug.

Then Griff’s gaze lands on me and drops to where Jigsaw’s hand is firmly wrapped around mine. He blinks, mouth parting like he’s trying to recalibrate what he’s seeing. His expression flickers—shock, disbelief, maybe a trace of awkward amusement.

Jigsaw notices the hesitation. His friendly smile flattens fast.

Griff seems to shake it off. “Margot Cedarwood. Yellow Thunderbird.”

“That’s me.” I tip my head in acknowledgment.

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