Page 145 of Scatter the Bones

“What?” Jigsaw scowls. “Why?”

Shelby shrugs. “I have no idea.” Her mouth twitches with amusement, suggesting she knowsexactlywhy.

“How does she evenknowabout the party?” Jigsaw asks, suspicion clear in his voice.

A smile sneaks over Shelby’s lips. “I mighta mentioned it last time we talked.”

Jigsaw really can’t seem to wrap his head around this.

But that’s a problem for another day.

Right now, I’m excited there’s another party to look forward to.

Since it’s not technically an MC party, hopefully I won’t get myself into any trouble this time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Jigsaw

The throbin my temples won’t go away.

I glance at my watch, checking the time. I should call Margot and tell her not to bother meeting me here at Remy’s bar when she’s finished with work. I’d rather be alone with her—no crowd, no noise, no interruptions.

But she’s been looking forward to this night out.

Said she wanted to see my sister. Spend time with Jezzie and get to know her better.

The party’s in full swing. Music scraping my nerves raw, lights low, and the place packed tighter than a cage on fight night. Most of my brothers are here. A bunch of fighters from The Castle. Friends of Remy and Griff’s. A few familiar faces from Zips. Even some cartel guys showed up to welcome Griff home. A regular gangster party in our little corner of Bumfuck, New York.

After Rooster, Wrath, Dex, and I not-so-subtly explained we’d help Griff train for his Vegas fight, he finally seemed to grasp the stakes. We’re not only doing it out of the kindness of our black hearts, we’re backing him to win. Big.

No pressure or anything.

With my good deed for the night done, I plant my ass at the end of the bar. Elbows on the polished wood, boots planted wide, eyes locked on the front entrance.

My sister’s behind the counter, tossing smiles and pouring drinks like she runs the place. Remy’s little sister, Molly, handles the rest of the crowd like a pro. Shelby’s bouncing between patrons, laughter bubbling from her lips, Rooster watching her every move.

Jezzie seems way too comfortable here. Like this ain’t her first visit to Remy’s bar. That worries me more than I want to admit. But I don’t want to pick a fight with her tonight.

Having Jezzie here, so close to Cain when I haven’t introduced them yet, spins a knot of guilt behind my ribs.

A glass thunks against the counter beside me.

“How’ve you been, Jigsaw?” A low, raspy voice cuts through the crowd noise.

Irritated someone dared to pull my attention from the door, I swivel on my stool—eyeing the tall, tattooed Latin guy dressed like a cartel accountant. Black sweater. Slim black pants. Leather jacket that probably cost more than my first Harley.

Quill.

The last person I feel like shaking hands with.

I slide off my stool and hold out my hand out of habit and respect. “Quill. What’re you doing here?” My tone comes out as more of an accusation than a question.Ooops.

He clasps my hand with a quick shake—no grip, no warmth. “Eraser said it was open invite.”

Of course he did.

If it wasn’t for the ink crawling up his neck and the lethal glint in his eyes, his voice might fool someone into thinking he’s harmless. But I know better. Son of a cartel king. Half-brother to a club president. Because of that, we let him drift through our territory on whatever business he claims is family-related.Mostly, he haunts Zips like a ghost, challenging people to race with an endless supply of cash.

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