Page 135 of Scatter the Bones

Margot shrugs, shrinking into herself. No more words. Just a slight shake of her head.

The creases between Grinder’s brows deepen, and there’s nothing gentle about the scowl he turns on me. His arms cross over his chest, biceps straining his sleeves, eyebrows lifted in awhat the fuck did you let happen to herglare. All of it demands an answer.Now.

I don’t flinch away from his silent judgment. I deserve it.

“Bonnie, Nikki, and Amanda need to be thrown the fuckout,”I seethe. “They were in the kitchen last I saw.”

He jerks his chin in a sharp nod. Doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t need to. Grinder knows I’d never make that call without a damn good reason.

“Anyone else?”

I rake a hand through my hair, pressure building behind my eyes. There were other girls in there, but I didn’t recognize them. Those three were the ones specifically in Margot’s face. “I don’t think so.”

“All right.” He settles his concerned dad eyes on Margot again. “You all right, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine. Just tired.” Her voice is thinner now. Faded. She tilts her head, peering around Grinder. “Can you tell Serena I’ll talk to her in the morning? You guys will still be here, right?”

“We’ll be here for breakfast,” he confirms.

“Okay.”

I don’t wait for another word. I keep my arm tight around her waist and lead her down the hall. Past the guest rooms. Past anyone still watching. I don’t care.

I slam into our room and close the door behind us. My heart’s thundering. My chest’s tight. My jaw aches from grinding my teeth.

Gripping Margot’s arms, I search her body for any signs they hurt her.

“Did they touch you? What happened?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to. “Jesus, you were gone for less than five minutes.”

Her lips part, but no sound comes out. Her eyes are wide and shiny with unshed tears.

From the confrontation? Or from me yelling at her?

Calm the fuck down.

Deep breath. Try again.

“Margot, baby—hey.” I lower my voice and reach for her again, gentler this time. “I’m sorry. Please. Tell me what happened back there?”

She sniffles, then breathes deep. She lifts her chin and stares at me. Something seems to shift in her. Her eyes aren’t filled with tears anymore. They’re wary. “Well, for starters, they all seemed eager to tell me how much you enjoy rough sex.”

A sharp, unhinged bark of laughter explodes out of me. “What?”

Her mouth flattens into a tight, humorless line. The weight in her stare pins me to the floor, like she’s dissecting me with her eyes, searching for a truth she’s scared to find.

I scrub my hand over the back of my neck, trying to shake the unease crawling up my spine.

She’s dead serious and staring at me like she’s trying to puzzle out whether I’m the man she thought I was—or someone entirely different.

They must’ve told her some fucked-up shit.

“Is that true?” she asks quietly. “Are they telling the truth? Because… that other girl said something similar at the bonfire.”

Is it?I don’t think so. There are only one or two women in my life I actually cared about pleasing. Felt comfortable enough to let my guard down with.

The rest? A release. A fun time. Boredom chaser. I never wanted to be seen or understood by any of them, so I just fit myself into whatever version of “Jigsaw” they wanted. Played the role. Got them off. Got myself off. Got gone.

So if that’s what one of them was into…maybe?

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