Twist the Knife (Lost Kings MC #24)

“Anyway.” Her back-to-business tone buries the awkward moment. “Would you mind moving this upstairs for me?”

She leads us to the freight elevator. How the fuck does this house have a fucking freight elevator in it? My stomach churns. I hate elevators. Especially ancient rickety ones in creepy, surprisingly large, old houses.

She rolls over a trolley for us to set the casket on.

Dex lifts his chin at me, indicating he wants me to pick a side.

“Yeah, I got this end.” The casket has big silver handles on it, and even though it seems abnormally large, it’s easier to lift than I expected. “Why is this so big?”

“It’s an over-sized one for our larger customers,” Margot explains like a perfect salesperson. “They’re becoming more and more popular.”

Oversized caskets? Seriously? “They make special caskets for big bastards?” I blurt.

“Please don’t speak like that,” Margot scolds. “We treat all of our customers with dignity and respect.”

Fuck. I know how damn serious she takes all of this. “Sorry,” I mumble. For so many things. “Just took me by surprise.”

We ease the trolley and the casket into the elevator which is bigger than it looks but still a steel death-box as far as I’m concerned. It’s not even well lit. Dex ends up pressed against the back wall. Better him than me.

Reluctantly, I step over the threshold. My hip bumps into the edge of the casket and I wince. Then a worse thought occurs to me than being trapped in an elevator.

Bring trapped in an elevator with a dead body.

The doors slowly slide closed. “Wait.” I slap my hand against the door, holding it in place. “There isn’t a body in here, right?” I point to the casket.

The smile Margot gives me is downright evil. “Maybe, maybe not.”

The door slides shut, almost snapping my arm in half.

This is my worst nightmare.

Margot

The stark-naked fear on Jigsaw’s face when the elevator doors close sends guilt arrowing straight through my heart. I shouldn’t have teased him about the casket having a body in it. That was rude and unprofessional.

Maybe he’s claustrophobic? Lord knows, I’ve had a couple of experiences with that elevator, including getting stuck in it when I was a kid. To this day, I use it as little as possible.

I pull the door next to the elevator open and jog up the narrow stairway. The elevator isn’t soundproof, so bits of Dex and Jigsaw’s conversation follow me up the stairs.

“Bro, if I tell you something, you promise not to laugh?” Jigsaw’s strained voice sounds like it’s coming from inside a tin can.

“I’ll do my best.” Dex’s tired annoyance comes through his voice.

“And if you bring it up once we’re outside this box, I’ll fuckin’ punch you,” Jigsaw warns. So low I barely make out the words, he adds, “This is my absolute worst nightmare.”

How could I do this to him?

It would’ve taken me five seconds to reassure him it was a brand-new, empty casket.

Dex seems to calm him with some deep-breathing exercises. That doesn’t alleviate my guilt, though.

I’m standing in front of the elevator doors when they finally open. “We’re going that way,” I say a bit more professionally.

I lead them to the showroom that’s full of other caskets and urns. Jigsaw casts a look around and shivers.

He’s probably thinking he dodged a bullet by shaking me loose now. I just wish he’d told me he didn’t want to see me anymore. Ended things cleanly. At least that would’ve made this situation a lot less awkward.

“What do you do for fun, Margot?” Jigsaw asks.