Page 55 of Scatter the Bones

The three of us clomp down the stairs.

The sky’s overcast and chilly.

I squint up at the clouds. “As long as it doesn’t rain, it’s a good day to ride.”

Rock nods, distracted, his mind clearly somewhere else.

Wrath and Dex catch up to us.

“All good?” I ask Dex.

“Yeah, we offered to help close off one of the roads, but Mr. Cedarwood said it’s handled.”

“So, we’re just following the pack?”

“Pretty much.”

“All right, brother.” I tap my knuckles against Dex’s.

I swing my leg over my bike and settle into the seat. The lot’s so full I can barely make out the trike hearse or the black car behind it.

Margot’s up there somewhere. Probably in the car with Whisper’s daughter. Some of the Wolf Knights’ ol’ ladies are on the backs of bikes. Hell, a small group of women are riding solo.

That’ll never be Margot.

It doesn’t matter. Charlotte and Hope are driving to the cemetery, and so are some of the other ol’ ladies. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ll never try to talk her into something that scares her so much, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about having her at my back.

I pull on my helmet and fire up the engine about the same time everyone else does. The sudden, unified rumble drowns out my thoughts, but not the ache in my chest.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Margot

The silenceinside the house feels heavier than it did this morning. The people my father hired to clean downstairs after the mourners left are gone but the sharp citrus scent of whatever cleanser they used still lingers in the air. After having so many people in and out of the house today, the quiet is a relief.

It’s just my father, Paul, and me now, meeting in Dad’s office to recap the day’s events.

“Thank you, Margot.” My father drops his lean frame into the chair behind his desk and lets out a heavy sigh. “You did an excellent job with all the biker details.”

That’s probably the most enthusiastic praise my father’s ever given me.

“And thank you for bringing in and assisting April,” he adds. “She was a big help today.”

“I didn’t need to give her that much assistance,” I say, keeping my tone even. “She’s been doing this as long as I have. She likes our smaller, more personal setting.”

“She definitely has the personality for it.” Paul chuckles and takes a seat on the couch next to me. “She’s the perfect mix of bubbly and somber.”

My lips quirk with amusement. That describes my friend well.

Dad nods once, thoughtful. “Thank you for all the behind-the-scenes stuff you did today, Paul. It was a complicated event and everything ran smoothly.”

Paul casts a sideways glance my way. “Of course.”

We run over a few more details for tomorrow’s much smaller and quieter service. “Mrs. Beckett’s family plans to be here early and no trip to the cemetery to coordinate so it should be an easier day,” Dad says.

“Why would you jinx us like that?” Paul jokes.

Dad responds with a tight smile.

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