Page 184 of Scatter the Bones

“Would it kill you to warn a guy?”

She taps her fingers over the screen. “There. Sent it to Margot.”

I side-eye her. “She knows she can trust me.” Something worse occurs to me. “Wait, did she ask you to…keep tabs on me?”

“No!” She slaps my arm. “I just know you won’t send her any pics.”

How wrong you are, songbird.I’ve sent Margot dozens of pics while we’ve been here.

Little Lady Death: Cute pic.

I had sent a check-in text to Jezzie and Cain earlier today. Both of the little shits answered back with emojis.

Looking at their messages, one after the other, twists a knife of guilt in my chest. When I get back from Vegas, I need to have my sit-down with Jezzie and have her meet Cain. It’s time.

“Molly, you speak this age range, what the fuck does this mean?” I lean over the table and flash the screen with Jezzie’s straight-faced emoji, dramatic-sigh face, and heart.

Molly flicks her gaze between the screen and my face, her lips forming a small “O.”

That can’t be good.

“My sister’s telling me to fuck off, isn’t she?”

Molly snort-giggles. “No.” She sits up straighter and tosses her long, shiny brown hair over her shoulder, like she’s preparing a presentation. “Given the context of your text toher, I think she’s responding with, ‘I’m exasperated with you checking on me all the time, but I love you.’” She nods, quickly, like she’s confirming her interpretation. “Yup. That’s it.”

I glance at the screen again.Maybe?“What’s the emoji combo for ‘you’re a pain in my ass?’”

Remy leans sideways over Griff. “Eye roll and donkey. You’re lucky. All Molly sends me are middle finger emojis.”

Molly playfully slaps his arm. “Only when you’re being a jerk.”

“So, all the time?” I add, helpful as ever.

Remy laughs but Molly gives me a mild stink eye.

How cute. She doesn’t like anyoneelsemaking fun of her big brother.

Remy leans back and stretches his arms across the back of the booth. “Saw your brother at Strike Back last week, Jigsaw.”

My spine goes stiff.

“Cain?” I say stupidly, just to make sure he doesn’t mean someone from my club.

Remy nods. “Kid’s quick. Showed him how to roll out of a choke. He picked it up fast.”

Pride flashes hot through my chest before I can stomp it down. “Glad he’s got good instincts,” I mutter.

“He’s a funny kid. Kinda quiet. Shy at first.” A flicker of a smile cuts across his face. “Totally opposite of your sister.”

Something twists so hard in my chest, my ribs might snap.

I smooth my expression, even though my jaw’s grinding behind it. He doesn’t know our history. All the shit we’ve been through. And if he thinks he’s ever dating—or whatever the fuck he does—my sister, he’s dead, fucking wrong.

“Different moms,” I say in a tone designed to shut him up.

He’d have to be suicidal to pull at that thread with me.

He nods quickly and shifts his gaze to Griff. “You’re out way past your bedtime, Stonewall.”

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