Twist the Knife (Lost Kings MC #24)

Rooster’s loud, diesel engine rumbles and chugs to life. He slaps the driver’s side door and sticks his head out of the open window. “You two wanna get the fuck outta my way, or should I use you to fill in the potholes?” he shouts.

“So much for not waking up the neighborhood,” Z grumbles as we move toward the brick building.

“What neighborhood?” I ask. “There’s barely any houses out here.”

Z grunts in response as he turns to wave and guide Rooster closer to the crematorium.

Rooster turns the truck off. Z jogs over and presses his hand to the door. “Stay put. We’ll handle this.”

“He won’t sit there for long,” I warn Z when he meets me at the back of the truck.

“No shit.” He circles one hand in the air. “Let’s hurry the fuck up, then.”

I grab the handle and lower the tailgate. Two freshly killed corpses, neatly rolled into dirty sheets, wait for us. Bye-bye, final members of the South of Satan MC.

The hinges creak and the tailgate drops open with a hard thud that sounds like the door to night ripping itself open.

The sound of retribution’s clean-up is music to my demented ears.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Margot

Four funerals and a wedding this week.

My social calendar really needs an overhaul.

And I’m attending Teller’s wedding with my father. Like a twelve-year-old. Although my father didn’t have to work hard to convince me to go with him.

I haven’t stopped thinking about Jigsaw since the night he was at our house. He’ll be at the wedding, right? He has to be. Of course, I didn’t tell my father Jigsaw was the reason I said I’d go to the biker’s wedding. If he’s ever going to let me take over the family business, I have to prove to him I’m willing to nurture business relationships.

Not that I’m sure I actually want to take over the family business. I’m the obvious choice, since both of my brothers decided to opt out. I wanted to be a cosmetologist. But as soon as I finished cosmetology school, I enrolled in the Mortuary Science program at the local college. I passed my national and state board exams. Although Cousin Paul sure has made it known he’s open to taking on the burden of the family business.

Ugh. I don’t even want to compete with Paul. When we were younger, I was closer to him than my brothers since they’re both so much older than me.

But one day, I might end up fighting my cousin for the family business.

Stop it. Today’s a day to celebrate life and love.

What does someone even wear to a biker wedding? It’s warm, so I choose a dress I’ve wanted to wear but didn’t have the proper occasion. Now I do. It’s a sleeveless mint green with bright pink flowers. The skirt falls to my shins. I’ll pair it with a wide pink belt and bubble-gum pink, patent leather open-toed heels. Everyone assumes I sleep in a coffin and surround myself in black, but I love color. For work, I have to present myself as bland and toned-down as possible. Dark colors, low-key makeup. It’s just not appropriate to greet a grieving family in something as bright and cheerful as a mint green and hot-pink dress.

It’s perfect for an outdoor wedding, though.

I carry my heels down the three flights of stairs to the main floor of our home and meet my father in the parlor where he’s leaving Paul instructions for the afternoon. Death doesn’t care about plans or weddings. The grim reaper loves to show up at the most inconvenient times. I’ll be surprised if we even make it to the wedding and are able to stay through the whole event.

Paul smiles when he sees me. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks.”

My father gives me a more critical once-over, as if there’s a slim chance he might ask me to go upstairs and change.

“That’s lovely, Margot,” he finally says.

“Thank you.” If I had a mom or an aunt to gush about clothing with, I’d show off that the dress has pockets. But I don’t, so I have to be content with patting my right pocket, holding a tube of lip balm, and the left one with a tiny tin of mints.

“Let’s go. I’m not quite sure where the place is, and I don’t want to get lost in Empire County.”

I already pulled up the map on my phone earlier. It is way out of the city limits. At Teller’s house.