Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jigsaw
Fucking Ravage. Brother has no common sense sometimes. Knowing the horrors some of the ol’ ladies have been through, it’s insensitive as fuck for him to ask them to share personal scary stories. Never mind, I have my own. Part of me would like to give a detailed account of my time in Daddy’s dungeon when I was a kid, bleeding out on the floor, not knowing if I’d live to see the next day. Maybe it would stop Rav’s story time requests for good. But probably not.
I cast a quick glance around at my brothers and their ol’ ladies. At least I have the comfort of knowing most of the people who’ve harmed anyone in this circle are six feet under—many of them at the club’s hand.
I didn’t hesitate to tell Margot that Shelby’s stalker is dead. She should know if anyone ever fucks with her, I’m not the only one who will kill to protect her, the whole club will. The only guilt I have about that fucker’s death is that I only cut off part of his pinky finger before Rooster had to turn the lowlife over to the FBI.
“Okay, maybe true horror stories was too much,” Rav says. “How about scary campfire stories? Someone must have a good one.” His sneaky gaze slides to Margot again.
Margot’s lips twist into that slightly evil, borderline unhinged smile that’s starting to turn me on more than it should. “Do you assume because I grew up in a funeral home, I must have lots of creepy dead body stories?” she asks sweetly.
“Well…” Guilt flashes over Rav’s face, followed by interest. “Yes.”
I will gut you , I mouth to Rav, making a point to pat my side where my hunting knife rests.
The fucker smirks and holds out his arms, practically daring me to make good on the threat.
“Let’s see, I was slapped by a dead body once.” Margot taps her finger against her chin like she’s flipping through a long list of events. “Few things scare me anymore.”
“What the fuck?” Z asks, half shocked, half laughing.
“It’s just a muscle contraction,” Margot explains in her usual kind but professional way. “It happens. My father’s had bodies actually sit up while he was wheeling them around the prep room. That’s always a wild sight.”
Silence falls over the circle.
Margot focuses on Rav again. “But you asked for a scary campfire-type story, right?”
“Yup.” He nods. “Ghosts haunting the hallways or zombies popping out of coffins? Give it to us.”
“Okay. I have one.” Her voice lowers, the words hanging in the smoky air. “A good one.”
“Yes!” Rav claps his hands and briskly rubs his palms together.
Margot glances around the fire. Her eyes widen and cheeks flame when she realizes everyone’s watching her. Then a slow, deliberate smile curves her lips. “It’s really creepy though.”
A hush falls over the group, broken by the occasional crackle and pop from the fire.
“We can handle creepy,” Z says. “Give it to us.”
She shifts forward.
“No, come on up here.” Ravage slaps his hand against the thick log he’s been using as a chair. “Come take the storytelling seat.”
“You don’t have to,” I say against Margot’s ear.
“No, it’s fine. The smoke’s starting to irritate my eyes.” She flicks her hand in the air toward the smoke that’s blowing directly at us.
“All right.” I stand, hold out my hand, and pull her up off the blanket, then walk behind her until we reach Rav.
I casually thrust my palms against his shoulder, knocking him off the log. He lands in a clump of dry leaves with a satisfying thump.
“Dick.” He sits up and sweeps his hands over his cut and jeans, knocking the crinkly leaf particles loose.
“Oopsie.” I slap my hand over my mouth.
Margot bites her lip and shakes her head. I curl my hands around her waist and boost her up onto the log, then perch right next to her.
She squints into the fire, then glances out at everyone gathered in a circle. Rav climbs over the log and settles at the far end, facing us.
“So, this happened a few years ago, right after I graduated from mortuary school,” she says, her steady voice carrying over the crackling fire.
I brace myself. She won’t share the story of murdering that pedo, will she? No. There’s no way Margot would talk about that, even as a joke.
“We had a woman come to us who needed to bury her mother,” Margot says.
“This is already sad, not scary,” Dex says.
Margot nods at him. “It was sad. Her mother wasn’t that old. She got disoriented at night and apparently drowned in the lake near their house.”
“This is gonna get scary, right?” Rav asks.
From the woods, someone snorts and I squint into the darkness, catching a glimpse of Rooster’s light-blue T-shirt leaning up against a tree, Shelby at his side. I wave for them to join us, but he shakes his head.
“You asked, bro,” I say to Ravage. “Shut up and let her tell the story.”
Margot glances at me and raises an eyebrow, as if she’s asking if she should continue. I’m too curious to see where the story goes to stop her, so I nod.
“Well, we took the mother into our care. I was the one who met with the daughter to go over her wishes for the funeral.”
“What about the husband? He didn’t help out his daughter?” Murphy asks.
“He wasn’t in the picture as far as I knew. There was just the daughter, and she was an only child.”
“That’s so sad,” Heidi says.
“You’re bumming us out, Margot,” Rav says.
“Shut up,” Teller snaps. “You asked for a story and she’s trying to tell it. Jesus.”
“Well, Heidi’s right,” Margot says. “That’s why my dad had me handle things. He thought she’d be more comfortable with someone her own age helping to make the arrangements. But since it was one of my firsts, he hired my friend April as a consultant.”
“Is this April chick hot?” Rav leans forward, vibrating with degenerate anticipation. “Girls named after months are always smokin’ hot.”
“I can confirm.” June lifts one hand and lets out a giggle. Her laughter and bright smile are nothing like the quiet, skittish girl she’d been when we rescued her from the South of Satan MC’s campgrounds.
“Virtue names as well.” Trinity raises her hand, then points to Hope, who lifts her hand in agreement.
“Amen!” Rav raises his hands toward the sky.
“Is there any category of woman you don’t find hot?” Z asks Ravage.
“No.” Rav points at me and my stomach twists, anticipating what he’s about to say and not wanting Margot to hear it. “I’m with Jiggy on this one. I appreciate and enjoy women of all shapes, sizes?—”
“We get it,” Sparky shouts. “Can you please let Margot finish her story?”
I lift my chin at Sparky, and he nods.
Margot’s watching my brothers’ antics with a faint smile, like she finds all of this amusing instead of obnoxious. Or maybe she missed what Ravage said about me.
“To answer your question, yes, April’s very pretty,” Margot says.
“But is she single?” Birch shouts.
Margot ducks her head and laughs. “Yes, she is.”
Time to get things back on track. “So, it was just a small, simple funeral?”
“Not exactly.” The glow of the firelight dances over Margot’s face, highlighting the seriousness of her eyes. “She was so nervous. Throughout the whole consultation, she kept wringing her hands. Like she was carrying something heavier than grief.”
“She murdered her mother!” Hoot shouts.
Margot rolls her eyes. “No.”
The fire crackles, emphasizing the silence. Is she waiting for more guesses or trying to come up with more pieces of the story? I haven’t decided if she’s telling a true story, something she made up, or a combination.
“April and I discovered that the woman had a number of what she told me were Slavic superstitions and rituals she wanted us to follow.”
Lilly groans. “I can guess a few of them.”
Margot nods. “This wasn’t that unusual. We have a lot of different clients with various backgrounds. It’s important to us that we respect people’s traditions. But the fear the daughter had as she listed each ritual was…unnerving.”
“What were they?” Hope asks.
“First, we had to cover all the mirrors in the funeral home with black cloth.”
“To make sure the spirit doesn’t get trapped between worlds?” Lilly asks with raised eyebrows.
Margot nods quickly. “That’s what she said. We’d done that before, so it wasn’t a big deal. I have black velvet cloths to fit each mirror in the house.”
Lilly nods with approval. Z leans in and whispers something in her ear and Lilly shrugs.
“Then, she asked for a window to be left open during the service.” Margot pauses, waiting to see if anyone will take a guess. When no one pipes up, she adds, “For her mother’s soul to escape in case it was trapped. That one was odd but doable.”
Rav rolls his eyes, and I shoot him a death glare. If he interrupts Margot one more time…
“Then she asked for a bell to be tied inside the casket,” Margot says. “She told us it was a tradition.”
“No,” Z groans. “I sense where this is going.”
“I wish,” Margot mutters. “Then she asked for coins to be placed in her mother’s hands.”
“Not on her eyes?” Teller asks.
“No. Just her hands.” Margot takes a breath. “There were other things, but these are the most relevant. She also stressed the body could not cross the threshold twice. This one was trickier but also not unusual. Fun fact—that’s why the viewing room has two entrances.”
I picture the layout of Margot’s house. Except for the bathrooms, every room I’ve been in on the first floor has at least two entrances. The basement has three, if you count the rickety elevator as an exit.
“The final request was to bury her mother with a doll. At first I thought, aw, that’s sweet, maybe it was something from her childhood that she treasured.”
“Was it a Cabbage Patch kid?” Sparky asks.
“That would’ve been preferable.” Margot shivers. “We bury people with jewelry, photos, love letters—someone even tried to bury her dad with his hunting rifle one time. And of course, children are usually buried with cherished toys.” She stops and takes a breath.
I rub my hand between her shoulder blades.
Swan kneels up on her blanket and raises one hand. “Was it a Matryoshka doll?”
Lilly nods enthusiastically. “That’s what I was thinking too.”
“Kind of.” Margot lifts her hands and shrugs. “A Russian nesting doll. That’s what I thought at first. But it was bigger.” She holds her hands vertically in the air, about twelve inches apart. “It was a dark wood color with intricate carvings. None of the colorful paint I’d seen on nesting dolls before. And, most importantly, it didn’t open. It was very heavy, like it was solid, not hollow with other dolls inside.”
“That’s weird,” Lilly murmurs.
“The weirdest part,” Margot lowers her voice, “was that the mouth was carved wide open?—”
Rav lifts his hand and a dirty smirk spreads over his face. “Like?—”
“Don’t,” I warn.
“Like she was screaming,” Margot finishes without acknowledging Rav’s interruption. “And she had three small, rusty nails hammered into each eye, sticking straight out.”
“Jesus Christ,” someone mutters.
Margot touches her stomach. “And three nails sticking out of her belly button.”
“Gross,” Z groans. “And she wanted her mom buried with that thing?”
Lilly shakes her head vigorously. “Did she tell you it was a Kikimora doll?”
Margot’s eyes widen and she sits back. “Yes,” she breathes out.
“Bullshit!” Rav shouts. “I call bullshit.” He points to Lilly, then Margot. “You two conspired ahead of time.”
Lilly holds both hands in the air. “I swear we didn’t.”
“Watch where you’re pointin’ those fingers, brother,” Z growls at Ravage.
“Jesus Christ,” Birch moans and stares up at the sky. “Nothing scary has even happened yet in this story.” He flashes a quick grin at Margot. “No offense.” His gaze shifts to Rav. “What are you getting so worked up about?”
“Nothing.” Rav crosses his arms over his chest.
“She said it was a good luck doll to help her mother find lost relatives in the afterlife,” Margot continues.
Lilly and Swan both shake their heads vigorously.
“The daughter requested two viewings and a wake before the burial.” Margot holds her hands up. “She was paying, so we did exactly as she requested. But because of the threshold rule, we had to leave the casket in the viewing room overnight.”
“Here we go.” Hoot rubs his hands together like he’s excited we’re closer to the scary part.
I’m less enthusiastic about where this story’s heading.
“The doll was supposed to remain in this black velvet bag,” Margot says. “I placed it in the casket with her mother myself. April took care of the coins. And I sewed the bell into the satin lining.”
The bonfire pops and hisses, dragging out the tension. I squirm on the log, wishing Margot would finish the story.
Margot turns toward me. “I hadn’t finished my apartment upstairs yet. So, I was sleeping in my old bedroom on the second floor. April had her own apartment in Empire and was commuting.”
She turns toward the group again, the fire casting shadows over her face. “The only people in the house were my dad, my cousin, and me. Well, the only living people.”
Someone groans.
“I woke up to the sound of running water.” Margot shrugs. “It’s an old house. I’m used to odd noises all hours of the night. But never anything like this.”
I shift my gaze and catch Ravage hugging himself tighter.
“Scared something might be wrong—a busted pipe or a faucet someone left on, I got up to investigate.” Margot takes a deep breath, then continues. “As soon as I opened my bedroom door, the air felt so heavy. Like the pressure you feel in the air before a storm. I searched the second floor—short of busting into my dad and cousin’s rooms. Nothing. But the sound continued.”
“Did you wake your dad up?” I ask.
“No, I really thought it was something simple.” Margot tilts her head like she’s trying to get each detail right. “I ran downstairs, checked the kitchen, the prep room, I even ran to the basement and checked all over. I checked every water source I could think of.”
“Nothing?” Z asks.
“Nothing. But that heavy feeling in the air persisted.” Margot pauses and her lips tilt slightly. “Then something banged on the first floor.” She claps her hands, the sharp slap ringing through the air. “I nearly jumped out of my skin. I was terrified something happened to the box holding the casket up. I ran to the viewing room and turned on the lights.”
“And?” someone shouts.
“The casket was as we’d left it, and I breathed the biggest sigh of relief.” Margot presses her hand to her chest. “But the room reeked. Damp and earthy. Then I noticed a dark stain on the carpet and my heart jumped right back to terror. I was scared we botched the embalming or something. In school you’re taught about all these nightmare scenarios, and I swear every one of them flipped through my brain.”
“Was the woman pissed about her coffin?” Hustler slaps his hand over his mouth and giggles like he said something really clever.
“No. It was just water.” She pauses, a sinister smile curving her lips. “And the doll was sitting in the middle of the puddle,” she finishes in a low voice.
“Oh, hell no!” Ravage shouts. “Bullshit.”
Margot holds one hand up toward the sky. “I swear.” She nods at Hustler. “I almost peed my pants when I saw it.”
“Nope. That’s when I would’ve run screaming from the house,” Heidi announces. “No way.”
“I wanted to, believe me,” Margot says. “But I was more worried about the water, that a pipe might have burst or something. I placed the doll back in the casket and woke my dad up to help me find the source of the leak.”
Lilly’s eyes widen to saucer size. “You touched the doll after that?”
Margot sighs. “I didn’t want my dad to see it and think April and I screwed something up. So, I only told him about the puddle.”
“What was it?” I ask. “A burst pipe?”
“No,” Margot answers. “That spot on the carpet was the only place we found any water. The casket wasn’t wet, the ceiling wasn’t either. Nothing dripping anywhere. Just this puddle in front of the casket.”
“It had to come from somewhere,” Z says.
“We couldn’t figure it out.” Margot shrugs. “We cleaned it up and my father went to bed. I was on my way upstairs when I heard the tiny jingle of a bell.”
“Oh, fuck no,” I blurt out.
“Exactly.” Margot takes a deep breath. “My heart was in my throat. But I tiptoed into the room, convinced the woman was going to be sitting up in her coffin…”
“And!?” Ravage shouts.
“The coffin was closed.” Margo’s gaze scans the crowd. “But the doll?—”
“Noooo,” Lilly moans. “Don’t say it.”
“Yup,” Margot confirms. “This time she was sitting on top of the casket.”
“Bitch really wanted some attention,” Birch quips.
Nervous laughter rolls through the group.
“ Help meeee! ” A high-pitched voice echoes from the woods.
“Fuck!” Rav jumps off the log and comes closer to the fire. “What the fuck was that?”
Shelby’s muffled giggles follow Rooster’s fading cries for help.
“It’s Rooster, dipshit.” Rock laughs and jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Story gettin’ to you?”
“No.” Rav runs his hands through his hair a few times, then glances around the circle.
Bonnie and Lala motion for Rav to join them on their blanket and he happily plants his ass between them.
“Aww, look at Rav gettin’ protection from two sweet lil’ bunnies,” Birch heckles.
“Ignore them, Margot.” Z waves his hand in the air, like a conductor instructing her to continue.
Margot flicks her gaze to the sky for a second. “So, now I’m looking at this doll and thoroughly spooked. Questioning my sanity.”
“Did you tie the bag shut the first time?” Swan asks.
“The first time, no. I just placed her in the casket,” Margot says. “But you bet your ass I tied it shut the second time.”
Lilly winces.
“Was the first bang from the window closing?” Charlotte asks.
Margot points at Charlotte and nods. “Yup. I didn’t realize that until the next morning, though.”
“Had it rained that night?” Teller asks.
Margot claps her hands together. “Yes!”
Z slides his gaze to Teller. “Okay, that might explain the puddle, but not the doll.”
“There’s a logical explanation for that too,” Teller says.
“The fuck there is!” Rav shouts. “That’s creepy shit.”
“After that, everything was calm for the rest of the night.” Margot slides her hand through the air in front of her like she’s smoothing out a bedsheet. “When I told April the next morning, she didn’t believe me.”
“I hope you made her stay over the next night,” Wrath says.
“Oh, I didn’t have to make her.” Margot nods at Wrath, then Teller. “She wanted to stay to prove to me it was just something logical that happened.”
Teller chuckles “And?”
“Same thing. Just as we were falling asleep?—”
“Wait, were you sleeping together?” Ravage asks with hopefully raised eyebrows.
“Shut up.” I reach down, wrap my fingers around a pinecone and fling it at Rav, hitting him squarely on the forehead.
“No,” Margot says. “We weren’t.” She clears her throat. “I was falling asleep when I heard the loud bang again. April obviously heard it too, and we both met in the hallway.”
“Wait, your dad and cousin never heard it?” Trinity asks.
“Nope.” Margot shakes her head. “April thought I was messing with her, so she checked my room first.”
Lilly huffs. “She didn’t find anything, right?”
“Nope. This time, I didn’t bother checking all over.” Margot holds her hands up in the air. “We went straight to the viewing room.”
“Do not say that creepy doll was out again.” Ravage points a finger at Margot. “Don’t.”
Margot falls against me, laughing. “Unfortunately, yes.”
A chorus of disbelief echoes around the fire.
“I’m serious.” Margot presses her palms together like she’s begging them to believe her. “She was sitting on top of the casket again. But this time with the two coins that April had put in the woman’s hands.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Z groans.
“Nope. April ran to get my dad?—”
“Splitting up is a classic horror movie no-no,” Emily tsks.
“I know!” Margot shouts. “But I knew my dad wouldn’t believe us. He’d think we were playing a prank on him.”
Everyone’s silent and watching Margot now.
“I followed her up the stairs,” Margot says. “And we heard another banging noise, so we both ran back to the viewing room.” She waits, letting the silence further spook everyone. “The doll and the coins were gone.”
“Oh, come on,” Rav moans.
“No, seriously,” Margot says. “We opened the casket and everything was back inside—well, the doll wasn’t in her pouch, so I put her back in and tied it again.”
“I’m starting to think she didn’t like being in the bag,” Z points out.
“I think you had a bad Kikimora,” Lilly says. “She must have felt disrespected or insulted that she was taken out of the woman’s house.”
Z just stares at her.
I can’t decide if my president’s wife is trying to bolster Margot’s story or if she believes in this stuff. But Rav’s looking uneasier by the second, so it’s a win either way.
“You might be right, Lilly.” Margot closes her eyes briefly, as if it’s hard to relay this part of the story. “The next day at the funeral, I took the daughter aside and asked if she was sure she wanted us to bury the doll. This terrified look came over her face and she asked if anything weird had happened.”
“Uh, yeah!” Heidi says. “Did you tell her?”
“Well, I didn’t want to seem unprofessional, but I did end up telling her about the water and the doll getting out.” Margot glances up at the sky. “She was so upset and insisted we double-check that the doll was in the casket when we buried her mom. So, at the gravesite, we unfortunately had to do just that.”
“What’d your dad think of that?” Teller asks.
“He’s used to odd requests from family. We just had to make a few adjustments, so it was okay.”
“The doll was in there?” Ravage asks.
“Yup.” Margot nods. “And I stayed with the daughter while they buried the casket.”
Rav stands and brushes off his jeans. “Well, that was definitely spooky. Thanks, Margot.”
“Wait, I’m not done.”
Rav freezes in place, staring at her. “What do you mean you’re not done?”
“Oh my God,” Z mutters.
“Imagine my surprise that night, when I’m getting ready for bed…” Margot stops and takes a dramatic breath. “And find the doll sitting on my nightstand.”
Different people shout, “No!” or “No way!”
Margot holds up a hand like she’s swearing an oath. “I swear to everything under the sun.”
“There had to be more than one of these dolls.” Wrath’s smug face suggests he thinks he’s unraveled the whole story. “Right? This lady was just fucking with you.”
Margot tilts her head as if she’d once considered that idea, then discarded it. “I thought it might be a possibility.”
“There’s no way.” Teller frowns. “That’s fucked up.”
Look at Mr. Logic getting all flustered.
“I thought so too.” Margot’s lips twist with amusement. “I tried calling the daughter to ask about the doll—if she wanted it back.”
“And?” Hope prompts.
“Her number was disconnected.”
“What a bitch,” Trinity sputters. “She stuck you with her family’s creepy, haunted doll?”
“Seemed that way,” Margot agrees. “I’d had enough. I marched outside and threw her in the crematorium and cranked it high.”
Rav stands again. “Great story. Thank you, Margot.” He slow-claps.
Margot purses her lips, like she’s trying not to laugh.
I have a feeling she’s still not done.
“Don’t say it,” I mutter.
Margot turns her mischievous gaze on me, her lips curving into a faint, wicked smile. “Yup. It should’ve been burned to ash. But when I went back to my room, she was sitting right on my nightstand again.”