Page 73 of Scatter the Bones

He shakes his head quickly, lips twitching like he’s not sure if I’m joking.

I glance around the near-empty gym. This isn’t all that different from the laundromat, right? I can man the desk. Shouldn’t have to talk to too many people.

“Go.” I wave toward the back door. “I’ll watch the place.”

Sully freezes mid-step, eyebrows pulling tight like I offered to babysit his firstborn. “Uhhh…”

“I’m house-trained.” I shrug. “I’ve run our club’s businesses.”

“Hold on, Aubrey.” Sully lowers his phone and studies me. “You sure?”

“How much damage can I do?” I deadpan. His incredulous expression doesn’t shift so I drop the dickish attitude. “I’m not gonna torch the place or scare your customers away. Promise.”

He watches me for another second, then lifts the phone. “I’ll be there in ten minutes, baby. Don’t let them leave.”

They hang up, and he flashes a relieved smile. “Thank you.”

I glance at the clock above the front desk.

“Really, I won’t be that long. Jake should be here soon. No classes until eleven, and it’s usually quiet,” he explains in a rush. “Aubrey’s got the desk set up tight. If anyone calls, there’s a binder with answers.”

Shit.Maybe I’m in over my head. We don’t have a binder at the laundromat. “I’ll figure it out.”

He runs his gaze over my jeans, boots, flannel, and leather cut—not exactly gym gear. “There’s a cabinet in my office with clean sweats and stuff. Borrow anything you want. You can hang your cut in there. It’ll be safe.”

He makes the offer with quiet respect—like he understands I wouldn’t hang my club’s colors just anywhere. Not because he’s uncomfortable having a biker repping his gym.

“Thanks. I got this, really. Go scare the piss out of those delivery guys.”

He growls an unhappy sound and rushes out the back door. “Thanks,” he calls over his shoulder.

I push my way into his office and hang up my cut on a hook behind the door. I take one look at the stack of nerdy polo shirts with the embroidered Strike Back logo on the chest pocket and decide my jeans and flannel will do just fine.

On my way out, I close the door behind me, then take a slow lap around the place. The guy who’d been busy doing chin-ups before has moved on to knocking out a brutal set of push-ups.

Sully’s upgraded some of the equipment in one of the rooms. I check out the new stuff, then return to the front desk.

The quiet’s almost suffocating. Allows my brain too much room to gnaw on the fact that I dipped out of Margot’s place before she woke up,andthat I’m avoiding my brother. I have to fix one of those problems before I attempt to repair the other.

I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick text.

Me: Can we get together this afternoon?

He responds right away, like he’s been gripping his phone, waiting for me to reach out.

Cain: Yeah. Any time.

I send him a time and offer to meet him at the hotel—figuring I know this area better than he does.

He answers with a thumbs-up emoji.

Typical. Setting aside my annoyance at an emoji response—he’s seventeen, after all, I toss my phone on the counter and scrub my hands over my face.

I’m flipping through the local paper and stop at an article on the second page.

Man Wearing Clown Mask Arrested After Jewelry Store Robbery in Johnsonville

Clown mask. I blink. No way that’s real.

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