Twist the Knife - Page 131

Having her at my back, touching me but not looking directly at me, makes it easier to say, “He was a mean fucker.”

“What about your mother?”

“She ‘disappeared’ when Jezzie was four or five.”

“Your little sister?”

“Yeah.” My lips curve, remembering her as a kid. Always too serious for her age.

“What do you mean your mom disappeared?”

“My father said she died but we never had a burial or anything.” The more I talk, the easier it is for the words to come out. “As a kid, I accepted his word. Didn’t have much choice. But as I got older, I started to wonder if he killed her or she ran away.”

“Where is he now?” She shifts her body so she’s sitting next to me, one leg tucked under her. She winds her arms around my bicep, pressing her breasts against me, and rests her chin on my shoulder. As if she senses the physical contact helps me explain.

“He’ll never hurt another woman or kid again.” I flash what some have called my serial killer smile. “That’s all I can say for certain.”

Margot’s stare burns into the side of my face. I turn and her lips curve into a sinister smile. “Good.”

Her approval pushes me to confess something only Rooster and a handful of brothers know. “I scattered pieces of his body from Oregon to Maine. It would take years and a lot of people to put him back together. That’s how I got the road name Jigsaw.”

She blinks. “So when you joke that your name comes from collecting the body parts from your enemies, you’re not kidding.”

“Sometimes, if you say the unhinged stuff with a straight face people assume you’re fucking with them.”

“I’ll have to try that.” A pained expression crosses her face. “Is that why you didn’t want to take your shirt off the first couple of times we…”

I nod slowly and try to give her the truth. “I didn’t want to ruin the moment. Or have you ask me questions?—”

“I’m sorry, I —”

“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you asked.” I rest my hand on her knee. Thoughts I can’t form into words bubble up.

I’ve never told all of that to anyone before…

…You’re not just some sex project to me…

But I can’t seem to line them up the right way.

Instead, I do what I’m good at. Crack a joke. “You think my clothes are dry yet? I don’t want to drape my balls all over your furniture while you’re feeding me.”

Margot doesn’t laugh. She leans in and presses the softest kiss to my cheek. “I’ll go check.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Margot

“So are you allowed to tell me about your trip?” I ask once we’re seated at the kitchen counter with steaming plates of rigatoni.

“Yeah, it was a shitshow from start to finish, really.” He stabs into the pasta and spears a chunk of sausage.

“Why?” I hesitate. Bikers are so damn secretive. “Am I allowed to ask?”

“You can ask. I might not share all the details, but I don’t care if you ask.” He pops more pasta in his mouth and chews slowly, closing his eyes. “This is so good. Thank you.”

“Thanks for having dinner with me.”

He rests his hand on my leg and flexes his fingers.