Twist the Knife (Lost Kings MC #24)

I open my mouth but the answer I’m about to give negates everything else I told her tonight.

If our relationship becomes more than a few fuck lessons.

If it turns into something real.

If I want to introduce you to the club as my ol’ lady and give you my patch.

Which absolutely isn’t going to happen.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jigsaw

I was right about Z and Rock calling everyone for church the next morning. Good thing I stayed at the main Upstate clubhouse instead of going to the new one down in Empire. All I had to do was get dressed and walk downstairs. I don’t even have to bother with my boots.

The clubhouse is quiet as I jog down the hardwood stairs. In the living room, the large flat-screen TV on the wall is on at a low volume. Cartoons play across the screen, but it’s not some of the club’s kids busy watching. Sparky’s giddy, childlike giggles and Stash’s harsh guffaws break the silence. They’re sprawled on the couches in the same exact spots they were last night when I came in. Their dedication to laziness could make a sloth jealous.

I eyeball the twin two-liter bottles of Mountain Dew on the floor with suspicion.

Sparky flips his gaze to me and sits up. “You stay here last night?” He yawns and stretches his arms high, lifting his shirt to show off his pasty white belly. He slowly eases himself off the couch and yawns again.

“I literally talked to you two clowns when I came in,” I remind them, amusement and a hint of exasperation coloring my tone. “Remember I asked if Murphy’s room was free and you said, ‘nothing in life is free’ then fell off the couch giggling?”

Sparky glances at Stash who shrugs and rolls off the couch, landing on his feet.

“Why are you walking around barefoot?” Sparky approaches while staring at my feet like he finds them personally offensive.

I wiggle my toes. “What? I have nice feet. After church I’m going to go outside and touch some grass.” I glance down at his big, woolly socks. “You should give it a try sometime.”

He giggles like a five-year-old. “I touch grass all the time. I’m one with the grass.”

“You’re one with something, all right,” I growl.

“Great comeback,” Stash sneers.

“Give me time. I just got up.” I reach out and smack the ends of his unruly hair. “You ever bother to brush that shit? Looks like a squirrel-tail hat my pappy had when I was a kid.”

“The fuck it does.” He brushes my hands away and slaps his wild hair into place. “Girls love running their fingers through my hair.”

Several bikes pull into the parking lot out front, interrupting our insult ping-pong. Sounds like at least one or two from my charter. I lift my chin at Stash. “What’d everyone do, stay at the other clubhouse last night?”

“Most of the single dudes did. Dex actually went in to work at CB. Grinder and Serena stayed with Wrath and Trinity. Z and Lilly are at Rock and Hope’s.”

“Rock must be loving that.” I snicker into my hand. Rock’s always making sly threats about Z showing up to his house unannounced.

Sparky shrugs. “I think Alexa stayed there too so the littles all had a sleepover.”

“Cute.” Glad I wasn’t anywhere near that.

Upstairs, doors slam and sleepy voices increase in volume.

“I can’t believe we’re the first ones up,” Sparky says to Stash. “This must be a sign of good moon energy.”

I squint at Sparky. “Did you even go to sleep last night, moonbeam?”

“Is that Jiggy I hear?” Shelby’s soft southern twang drifts down the stairs.

I lift my head, the corners of my mouth instantly lifting. “It’s me, songbird.”