Page 212 of Scatter the Bones

“Good.”

“Jezzie introduced me to Cain,” Shelby says to Jigsaw in a low voice. “He seems real nice. Kinda shy.”

“I think that’s because you’re famous,” Jigsaw whispers.

“Oh. No.” She frowns as if she’s having trouble making sense of her fame.

“I have officially listened to my first country album,” I say to her. “And loved it.”

She blushes a fierce shade of pink. “Ya don’t likeanycountry music?”

I don’t want to hurt her feelings and tell her what I always thought about country music. “No, but you changed my mind.”

Across from me, Rooster huffs a laugh. “Same. I hated it until I heard her sing.”

“You like Dawson’s music now,” Shelby says.

“Ehhh.” Rooster lifts one hand in the air, wobbling it from side to side. “It’s tolerable if there’s no other options.”

“Logan!” She slaps the table, laughing too hard to sound genuinely offended.

“I won’tsaythat to him,” Rooster promises.

“I will,” Jigsaw deadpans.

“The heck you will,” Shelby mutters. “I still owe his record label a bunch of songs.”

Remy stops at our table, gives Shelby and me a quick hello, then leans down to murmur something into Jigsaw’s ear.

“Yeah.” Jigsaw nods. “Where?”

“Behind the last food shack.”

Jigsaw jerks his head toward Rooster.

“We’ll be right back,” he promises.

Shelby and I watch them swagger off toward the edge of the track, disappearing behind a row of squat white buildings.

“What do you think they’re up to?” I ask.

“Lord only knows.” She exhales slowly and shrugs. “Probably better not to ask.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Jigsaw

Roosterand I round the corner of the food shack.

“This guy’s been a clown long before tonight,” Rooster says.

“Yeah. Puttin’ his hands on Libby, though? That’s straight up insane. Dex is gonna kill him when he gets back.”

We find them in a field beyond the last shack, the grass bathed in a weak circle of light.

Buck’s standing there, half-slouched, working his jaw like he’s chewing on something foul. Or gearing up to plead for his life. Remy’s got his arms crossed, casual but tense, like he’s restraining the urge to swing first. Griff’s back in the shadows, leaning on the chain-link fence, scanning the area to make sure no one’s gonna walk up on this scene uninvited.

Torch is off to the side, hands in his pockets—a pissed-off expression on his face.

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