Collect the Pieces (Lost Kings MC #25)

Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Margot

The service is even busier than we anticipated. I haven’t had much time to worry about Daniel’s whereabouts since he disappeared to chat with my father earlier.

Jigsaw helped Paul and me finish the last bit of prep work before guests started arriving. I hated saying goodbye with Daniel lurking about. But I couldn’t ask Jigsaw to stay just because I didn’t want to be near my ex.

I’m leaving the viewing room to check on guests in the parlor when footsteps snap against the floor behind me.

A strong hand wraps around my elbow and tugs. “Can we talk?” Daniel asks.

Why didn’t I ask the priest for a vial of holy water before he left? Would Daniel sizzle if I sprinkled him with it?

I shake myself loose and glare at him. For his grandmother’s funeral, I had to be polite and professional.

Now, I’m done pretending. “About what?”

“I need to speak to you.”

I glance into the viewing room. The guests have dwindled down to a handful of folks. I catch Paul’s eye and through a series of hand signals let him know I’ll be in the kitchen.

Jerking my head to the side, I indicate Daniel can follow me.

A teenager dressed in black jeans and a black sweater is bent over staring into the refrigerator. “Can I help you?” My tone’s sharp. No one’s supposed to be in here.

“You got any snacks?” she asks.

Working with the public sure is a pain in the rump sometimes. I guide her into the parlor and point her in the direction of the table with cookies and a few other items.

Once we’re alone, I turn and face Daniel.

And suddenly wish I hadn’t chased the teenager away.

“What’s on your mind?” I walk over to the refrigerator and pull out a cool bottle of water, stopping to roll it over my forehead for a second before uncapping it.

Daniel stares at me with his mouth agape, as if I’d rubbed the bottle through my cleavage.

“Your father told me to talk to you.”

“About what?” I take a quick sip of water.

He steps forward and tugs the water bottle out of my hands, setting it on the counter.

What the hell?

“I miss you.” He holds out his arms as if he expects me to leap into his embrace.

He wasn’t that touchy-feely when we were an actual couple.

My glare remains in place until he slowly returns his arms to his sides.

I arch an eyebrow. “What about Danielle?” Last I knew he had a girlfriend. Not that I care one way or another. The question is my weak attempt to shame Daniel for telling me he misses me when he’s with someone else.

“We broke up.”

“Why? You seemed perfect for each other.” Oof, that came out a few shades snottier than I intended.

He frowns, then shakes his head. “No. You were perfect for me. And I threw that away.”

Bile burns the back of my throat. A year or two ago I would’ve relished this apology. I still wouldn’t have wanted to get back together with him, but it would’ve felt vindicating.

Now, I just feel sick.

And angry.

“We make sense, Margot.” He aims his scowling face in the direction of the back parking lot. “You can’t be serious about dating some lowlife biker.”

One thing I’ve learned in this business—guilty people are mean people. Relatives who are drowning in guilt because they didn’t spend enough time with their loved ones are always awful. So are ex-boyfriends who suddenly feel bad about the way they treated you, now that you’re with someone else.

When I don’t react or comment on Daniel’s insult he frowns and shoves his hands in his pockets. He’d wanted to bait me, and I won’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I keep my face blank. Emotionless. Letting him know he’s not worth the effort.

The longer we go without speaking, the more Daniel fidgets.

“Your father said I should talk to you.” He crosses his arms over his chest, then drops them to his sides.

“So you said.”

“I want to get back together.” He lets out a snotty chuckle. “He can’t want that guy for a son-in-law.” Daniel holds out his hands. “How could having a grungy-looking gangster hanging around here be good for the family business?”

Ignoring the insult, I keep my face smooth and calm. “Is that what you said to my father? You’d be good for our family business?”

“No. Not exactly. I just asked him why he was letting you run around with that guy?—”

“You what ?”

“He said he makes you happy.” Daniel pulls an annoyed face, like the concept of happiness is too trivial to ponder. “Come on, Margot, I can make you happier.”

Dad actually said that?

Finding out my father feels that way is more important to me than anything else I’ve learned in this conversation.

Time to wrap up our chat with a hard dose of the truth. “You made me miserable every second we were together, Dan .” I shorten his name just to piss him off, then speak slowly, so he understands how serious I am about this next part. “I’d rather die alone and be eaten by mice than waste another second of my life with you.”

His eyes widen, as if he’s stunned I don’t have fond memories of our time together. “Be serious, Margot.”

“I’m deadly serious.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you remember what you said about me?”

Red crawls up his neck and over his cheeks. He averts his eyes, maybe remembering the long, long list of shitty things he said to me during our time together. “We were engaged. We said lots of things to each other.”

I step closer and lower my voice. “You compared me to a corpse . Which, in hindsight, is hilarious since you were the one who was so awful in bed,” I finish in a harsh whisper.

“Wh…what?” he sputters. “What did you want me to do?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe give me an orgasm, just once.”

He wrinkles his nose like a child who still thinks girls have cooties. “Don’t be crass.”

A wild thought pops into my brain and out of my mouth before I think it through. “Daniel, are you sure you actually like women?”

His face turns redder than a beet.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” I say as gently as possible.

“Of course I like women,” he says through clenched teeth. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Because everything about me seemed to annoy or disgust you.” I swallow hard, debating my words. “You put me down every chance you got. For the strangest things. You were quite hateful.”

He lifts his chin. “I don’t sugarcoat the truth.” He sweeps his gaze over me and his lip curls in disgust. “You’re not a ten, Margot. You’re adequate. You come from a good, traditional family. You’ll make a good wife. And I’ve reached a stage in my life where that’s more important. Getting married.” He drops his gaze and sort of sneers at my body. Not the look of a man attracted to me—or any other woman. “Especially since you seem to have lost a few pounds.” He raises a hand and slowly swirls his finger in the air around my midsection.

Ice crackles in my chest. Tears sting my eyes.

I don’t care what Daniel thinks of me. I don’t. But damn, who wants to be reminded someone finds you unattractive?

And why the fuck should I care that he’s at a “stage in his life” where he wants to get married?

I swallow hard and gather all my courage. I have years’ worth of things to say, and I won’t allow him to rob me of this opportunity.

“Have you ever had a moment of self-reflection, Daniel?”

He frowns. “About what?”

“ You have the personality of a baked potato.” I gesture wildly to his perfectly styled—to cover his receding hairline—dirty-blond hair. “And your hairline looks like it’s trying to run away from your face, yet you have the audacity to stand there and insult me ?”

Instant heat sears my cheeks as my cruel words hang in the air. I shouldn’t have stooped to his level of petty insults.

“I…I…” He runs his hands over his hair several times, as if checking that it’s still there.

Instead of making me feel better, knowing that I rattled him makes me feel worse. The awful comments he always made about my breasts or hips or thighs stuck with me for way too long. I wouldn’t wish that kind of self-doubt on anyone…well, except maybe Daniel.

His jaw works overtime to form words that won’t come. For once, I’ve managed to leave him speechless, and the irony of it is quite tasty. This man, who always had something cruel to say, who never hesitated to pick me apart like a grapefruit, finally has no retort.

Good.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the rage burning in my chest doesn’t recede.

It’s not about him anymore. It’s about me and the years I wasted doubting myself because of him. Fury bubbles over. He really thought I’d give him another chance to tear me down again.

“You know what? I feel sorry for you, Daniel.”

An angry scowl slashes his expression. “Excuse me?”

“It must be exhausting to be so hateful. Shredding everyone around you just to make yourself feel better.”

Telling Daniel off should be more satisfying but this whole conversation is leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

“Are you insane?” He raises his eyebrows and steps toward me. “I make four times the amount of money that you could ever hope to earn.” He waves a hand toward the parlor. “I’m not stuck in a backward little town playing with dead people all day.”

I steel myself from flinching. What I do helps people. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. He used to tell me it was a “respectable” career. How we could make so much more money if we didn’t “get sucked in by charity cases all the time,” as he put it.

“Money isn’t everything,” I say. “And if your life is so wonderful and I’m so pathetic, why are you trying to get back together?”

Who cares about his reasons? I’d rather gargle with formaldehyde than spend another minute in his company. I turn away, crossing my arms over my chest, as if the physical barrier can protect me from this conversation.

“Obviously, I’ve made a mistake. You used to be a nice woman?—”

I turn and glare at him. “No, I used to be a doormat.”

He’s blocking my way to both doors. The closest leads into the parlor but I’ll have to skirt right by him to reach it.

He frowns and runs his hand over his hair again. “I never thought you were a doormat.”

A burst of outraged laughter explodes out of me. “Of course you didn’t.” Why would he when he was busy wiping his feet all over me?

The back door creaks open and bangs shut. I hope it’s not people leaving for the church already. The last thing I want to do is be alone in the house with Daniel.

“No matter what you seem to think, I really did miss you and want to see you. After things ended with Danielle, I realized what I’d lost in you.” His tone seems gentler, more reasonable, but alarm clangs in my chest.

Sounds like Danielle didn’t want to put up with his crap either so he thought poor, pathetic Margot would be desperate enough to take him back.

Unhinged laughter bursts out of me. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m very serious.” He takes a step closer, holding out his hand like he’s trying to trap a mouse. “I thought now that some time has passed and we both have clearer heads, we could reconcile. I still have your ring in?—”

“She’s spoken for.” Jigsaw’s low, deadly voice hits the walls of the kitchen like the racking of a shotgun.

His presence shocks me even harder than Daniel’s desire for a second chance.

Jigsaw steps inside the kitchen, his heavy boots thudding against the tile. Then another set of footsteps thunders into the room. Rooster. Today, his usually jovial expression is ferocious and aimed at Daniel.

Joy leaps into my chest. Jigsaw not only came back, he brought Rooster with him. No doubt to scare the piss out of Daniel. I force myself not to cackle with glee and clap my hands together.

“Hi, Jensen.” My face bursts into the most relieved smile.

“Hey, baby.” Jigsaw pushes by Daniel, easily bumping him out of his way, and clamps his hand over my hip, claiming me in the best way possible. He drags me close, pressing a long, lingering kiss against my lips. The electric sparks shooting through me from his touch almost obliterate Daniel’s presence.

“Hey.” My breathless voice fills the space between us. “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

“Can’t stay away from you.” He gives my hip another affectionate squeeze.

Daniel clears his throat.

We ignore him.

“I, uh…” Daniel mumbles.

I tilt sideways to see past Jigsaw’s body. Rooster’s leaning against the doorframe, taking up the entire space. With his arms crossed casually over his chest, the sharp angles of his face covered by his beard, and the black leather vest announcing his status as VP of a motorcycle club, he radiates menace.

Daniel’s gaze flits to the door leading into the parlor. His body sways with indecision. As if he doesn’t want to admit the two bikers intimidate him.

Jigsaw and Rooster’s gazes meet. Rooster lifts a questioning eyebrow. The corner of Jigsaw’s mouth quirks.

I’m enthralled by their unspoken conversation.

“You need to get by, bud?” Rooster asks in the most condescending tone possible.

I barely stifle a snicker as Daniel squirms. The red in his cheeks deepens to a shade of purple. He lifts his chin. “No, I need to finish my conversation with Margot.” He swallows hard. “In private.”

Rooster sneers.

“That’s not going to happen.” Jigsaw steps behind Daniel, crowding him forward.

Rooster eases away from the door, his boots echoing against the tile floor. “Looks like your conversation is finished. Say a polite goodbye to Margot.”

Daniel’s gaze darts between the two men, his expression flickering between indignation and fear. He’s not used to situations he can’t control. Too bad for Daniel, these men don’t give a fig about his family connections or his bank balance.

“We were having a conversation. I’m not doing anything wrong,” Daniel protests.

“You’re breathing. But we can always change that.” Jigsaw’s warning seems calm but carries an edge. “Margot’s done talking to you. And you’re done wasting her time.” He lifts his chin toward the hallway. “Go out there and pay your respects or whatever you came to do and then leave .”

Daniel glances at me as if I’m going to offer him a reprieve. I meet his gaze with the coldest glare I can muster. Jigsaw’s right. I’ve wasted enough time tolerating Daniel, letting him walk all over me. No more.

“We’re done here.” My voice stays steady, even as my stomach’s in freefall.

Daniel’s jaw tightens. “Well, then. Good luck, Margot.” He rolls his shoulders and runs his hands through his hair, like he’s trying smooth his dignity into place. “I’ll, uh, have a word with your father on my way out.”

“You do that,” Jigsaw laughs.

Daniel’s eyes narrow but his sense of self-preservation kicks in and he wisely keeps any smart-ass retorts to himself. He’s used to lording his power over men who flinch at his family’s name and influence.

Now, he’s out of his depth—facing men who live by their own code.

Rooster remains in Daniel’s way, forcing Daniel to squeeze by, rumpling his suit jacket in the process.

When he’s finally out of sight, I blow out a relieved breath and brace my hand on the counter.

Jigsaw turns to me, his harsh expression softening as soon as our eyes meet. “You all right?”

I nod, my hands trembling. “I am now.”

“Come here.” He scoops me into his arms. I press my face against his chest, savoring his warmth, strength, and crisp outdoor scent.

I let out another shaky breath. “Thank you,” I murmur against his shirt. I can’t believe I said those things to Daniel. I didn’t get out all the cutting remarks I’d rehearsed in my head over the years, but I hit the highlights.

I pull back and stare up at Jigsaw. “I think some of your brashness has worn off on me. I told him exactly what I thought of him.”

His lips curve with pride and affection. “Good. Your calmness must’ve worn off on me too, because I didn’t say half of what I wanted to say. Or punch him even once.”

“Oh, stop.”

“Nah, he’s right,” Rooster says, stepping forward and slapping Jigsaw’s shoulder. “My brother showed a lot of restraint. Something about that dude—he’s got a very punchable face.”

I clap my hand over my mouth and let out a giggle that feels sublime after all the tension. “He does, doesn’t he?”

My laughter fades as a sobering thought creeps in, erasing the smile from my face.

“You must think poorly of me for dating someone like that.” My voice wavers, and I glance nervously at Rooster. What if he thinks I’m not good enough for his best friend?

If only they knew Daniel and I did more than date. I said I would marry him.

“Don’t sweat it.” Jigsaw snorts, then clutches his stomach like he’s about to double over. “My bushy-bearded brother has you beat in the awful-ex Olympics, trust me.”

“Shut up,” Rooster growls, shooting Jigsaw a glare. Clearly, he’s not finding this as humorous.

“Well, whatever happened, it brought you to Shelby and you two are clearly meant to be together,” I say to Rooster.

That replaces the scowl on his ruggedly handsome face with a fond smile. “Yes, we are.”

Jigsaw stops his silly antics, but a shadow crosses his expression. Briefly, but I saw it.

“I better get back to work,” I announce to smooth over the awkwardness. “Daniel cornered me, and Lord only knows what’s been going on out there.”

How could I forget all my responsibilities?

“We’ll let you get back to it.” Jigsaw gently rests his hand on my arm, stopping me. “We’re going to stick around, though. Just in case.”

I smile up at him. “I’d really like that.”