Page 31 of Scatter the Bones

Wrath studies me for an uncomfortably long moment, his expression wiped clean. No judgment or pity. “I haven’t heard otherwise. But I’ll see him at church later today.”

Please don’t tell him I asked.I plead with my eyes. It’s humiliating that I have to ask other people about my boyfriend’s whereabouts.

Jake returns and nods at Wrath, saving me from further embarrassing myself.

“I like your place, Margot,” Jake says. “Feels nice and homey, instead of…”

“Morbid and creepy?” I offer.

One corner of his mouth slowly slides up. “Well…I didn’t want to put itthatway, but yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll let you get back to work,” Wrath says. “Do you mind if I go out the back door and make my way around?”

“Please, go ahead.” I walk them down the hallway, trying not to think of how many times Jigsaw’s come in this same way—and straight up to my apartment.

Not now.

“All right. See you at the service,” Wrath says.

Jake lifts a hand in farewell. “Nice meeting you, Margot. Hope the rest of your day’s less…intense.”

“Hope yours is less…morbid.”

His lip twitch with amusement. “If you ever want to take self-defense classes, come into Strike Back in downtown Johnsonville. I’ll take care of you.”

“Jaaake,” Wrath warns in a dry tone.

“What?” Jake spreads his hands wide. “I’ve taught almost all the club’s ol’ ladies. I don’t want to leave Margot out.”

“You have?” I ask, trying to keep the shock out of my voice. The guys must trust him.

“Yeah. Sunday mornings my brother hosts a class.” He leans in, dropping his voice. “But between you and me—I’m the better teacher.”

I raise a hand, putting some space between us. “I’m sure you are.”

“All right, charmer.” Wrath grips Jake’s bicep and hauls him onto the back porch. “Let’s go.”

Laughing too hard to respond, I just raise my hand in a wave.

“See you at the funeral, Margot,” Wrath calls.

I close the door behind them.

And then I’m alone.

With silence.

Way too much silence.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jigsaw

I makeit back early the next morning, riding down Rooster’s long driveway past the house. Through the kitchen window, Rooster’s big head bobs into view like a buoy in choppy water.

Since he’s up, I might as well spread some cheer. I park near the back door and don’t even bother going downstairs to my place.

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