Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
“You rang?” Wrath’s voice booms through the corridor like a cannon.
He walks up, slaps a heavy hand on my shoulder and eyes Hudson for a second. “Was wondering where you disappeared to.”
I jerk my chin toward Hudson. “Talking to Hudson.”
Wrath nods and shakes his hand. “How’ve you been? It’s been a minute.”
Hudson meets Wrath’s stare head-on and shakes his hand without wincing. “Can’t complain.”
You literally just complained that your charter is closing.
“Actually,” I say, drawing out the word to grab their attention. “Hudson might be interested in trading in his patch for a skull and crown.”
Wrath’s whole vibe switches from conversational to hardened enforcer. He crosses his arms, body going still, face hardening into that quiet, lethal calm he’s famous for. “That right?”
To his credit, Hudson doesn’t flinch under Wrath’s scrutiny. Doesn’t even blink.
He nods once, then runs through the shorter version of the pitch he gave me. Wrath cocks his head, listening intently or running background checks in real-time behind his cold eyes—who knows.
“Yo, Hudson!” Merlin’s voice cuts through the hallway. “Get over here.”
“You sticking around for a bit after the funeral?” Wrath asks Hudson.
“Planning to stay with my mom for a few days. Help her out. Hang with my niece and nephew.”
Wrath nods once—quick, like he wasn’t asking for Hudson’s whole itinerary. “Stop by Furious any afternoon. We’ll talk more.”
“All right.” Hudson hold out his hand. “Thanks.” He nods at me next. “Thanks, Jigsaw.”
“Sure.”
Wrath’s attention stays locked on Hudson until he’s around the corner, then he turns to me. He flicks his gaze to the stairs. “What’s up there?”
“Second floor is where her cousin lives. And a kid’s playroom I think? I’ve never really explored it.” No, I’m always in a hurry to hide out at Margot’s place and get my hands all over her. “Margot’s place is up on the third floor.”
He glances over his shoulder and must decide this is a secure enough place to talk. “What’s your thought?”
“I have lots of thoughts. Be more specific.”
His eyes narrow to pissed-off slits. “On Hudson.”
“Uh, I barely know him.”
“Why’d he come to you, then?”
I tap my patch. “He said RC to RC but I’m not sure.”
“We should all sit down for church tomorrow anyway,” Wrath says. “Share details we learned here today. We can talk about Hudson then. Get everyone’s take.”
What details did we learn today? “Yeah, all right.”
“You staying here tonight?”
I shift my gaze to the side. “Not sure yet.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t pick up on my hesitation and ask about my situation with Margot. “I’ll tell Rock noon for church?”
No one’s ever asked me for scheduling input before. “Whenever you need me. I’ll be there.”
Wrath’s attention shifts to the hallway where a steady stream of guests are moving toward the back doors. “I think they’re gettin’ ready to head to the cemetery. I told Ulfric Kings would take up last position.”
“I didn’t expect anything else.”
“Good.” He claps me on the shoulder and heads off down the hall.
I hang back for a second. Then I make my way toward the front parlor, threading through the stragglers, searching for Margot.
She’s standing near the front door by the guest book. Shoulders tight with her warm, professional smile plastered in place as she gently guides the last few guests where they need to go. Ulfric stops to talk to her, resting his hand on her shoulder for a moment.
I close my eyes and force myself not to picture my fist going through his throat. This knee-jerk rage that shoots through me every time another man gets close to Margot should be studied by scientists.
I wait until she’s alone, then step into her space.
At least this time she doesn’t look like she wants to waterboard some answers out of me. No, she looks tired.
I lean down, keeping my voice low enough for her alone. “I wanted to tell you earlier—you look really pretty today.”
Her smile falters for half a second. “You can’t fix things with an empty compliment.”
Ouch.
“But thank you.” There’s no bite to her tone this time. Just weariness twisted with affection.
I don’t deserve her.
Someone props the back door open, and I catch a glimpse of a black Harley trike with a black carriage behind it. Fuuuck. I was supposed to help Margot find that hearse funeral chopper setup and I totally bailed on her.
I shift, uncomfortable now that I’ve been reminded how badly I dropped the ball on something so simple. “You found one?” I nod toward the parking lot.
She tilts her head, glancing up at me. “Yes, thank you for the notes you left. They were helpful.”
If it were anyone else, I’d assume they were being sarcastic, but Margot seems sincere. Grateful even. She’s too sweet to tell me what a fuckup I am.
Wait until you tell her about Cain.
I shove that thought aside for the moment.
The hallway’s almost empty now. Outside, a motorcycle starts up. “You have earplugs?” I ask.