Page 1 of Jigsaw
Prologue
Dean
Six Years Ago
The gun was inches from my face when he pulled the hammer back, ready to fire a round into my face. I’d fucked up, but I had no idea what I was doing until it was too late. But there wasn’t any explaining that to him, and I knew this was my last moment as a prospect. Hell, it could have been my last moment alive for all I knew.
“You were warned when you put that prospect cut on that she was off limits, but you had to go against a direct order. So, tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now and throw your body into the pig pen,” Popeye, the club’s president, said to me. I couldn’t think of a reason, other than I wasn’t aware of who she was.
“I swear, I had no idea who she was when I walked into that bar. There’s no way I’d go against a direct order,” I tried to explain, only for him to take a step closer to me, pressing the barrel of the gun against my forehead.
If I was the kind of person who scared easily, I’d have pissed myself by now, but this wasn’t anything new to me. The biggest bullies of my entire life were my parents, and Popeye’s threats, while real, didn’t frighten me. They did piss me off, but I was outgunned, and if I fought back, I would end up in that damn pig pen. I had to do something to get him to back off, so I tried to rationalize with him.
“Popeye, I would never disobey an order from you or any other patched member of the Phantom Renegades. If I would’ve known that was Willow, I would’ve made sure she got out ofthere safely and I wouldn’t have touched her. But she said her name was Jessica, and she looked nothing like the pictures I’ve seen of Willow.” I lifted my hands, trying to show surrender, as I added, “I swear it on my oath to the Phantom Renegades.”
I’d been a prospect with the Phantom Renegades for close to eight months, and I was at least four months away from getting my patch. There was no way Popeye was going to patch me in now, knowing I bedded his daughter last week. I fucked up, and I hated that I was about to either die or lose my bid to become a patched member. But damn, just thinking about my night with her made my dick tingle.
Popeye began to lower his gun as he took a step back from me. He looked over to the side of his office, and I took the opportunity to glance and see who had joined us during Popeye’s rant. Seeing Marcus, his son and my friend, sitting on the couch, shaking his head gave me some peace. I didn’t think Marcus—or Ghost, as he was called—would let his father kill me.
At least, I hoped he wouldn’t.
“I told you something like this was going to happen when you let her move out to go to college,” Ghost said as he pushed off the couch and approached us.
Popeye leaned back against the desk in his office as Ghost stepped in front of me. He briefly closed his eyes, and when he opened them, I saw resolve staring back at me. He looked over his shoulder and addressed Popeye.
“I think you need to call Willow and make her come and explain why Dean’s ass is on the line. She knew he was a prospect for us.” He looked back at me and asked, “Were you wearing your cut?” I nodded, so he looked back at his father. “She saw he was a Phantom Renegades and she targeted him, going against your orders. If anyone should be punished, it should be her, not Dean.” He turned back to me and added,“He’s a solid brother and shouldn’t be pushed out because of her mistake.”
I looked over his shoulder and saw Popeye staring down at the floor, the gun in his hand. Sighing, he walked around the desk and placed it onto the top as he looked across at Ghost and me. Ghost stepped to the side, and I watched as Popeye picked up the phone on his desk.
He dialed and listened before he spoke. “I need you to come by the shop.” He paused then added with some bark in his voice, “Not later, Willow. Now.” He listened for another moment then added, “Fifteen minutes.”
“Is she being a pain in the ass?” Ghost asked, and Popeye ran his hands through his hair.
I’d stopped by his shop on my way out to the clubhouse from work and was greeted with a gun in my face and accusations of disloyalty. I didn’t understand what I’d done wrong until he showed me a picture of me and the girl I’d hooked up with last weekend coming out of a motel. We’d met at a bar on the edge of St. Cloud, Minnesota, when I was visiting my grandfather and stopped for a drink on my way back to Minneapolis.
She wandered in when I was on my third drink, and we left the bar together a few hours later, stumbling into the motel next door and practically attacking each other as we tried every position imaginable. I left St. Cloud the next morning without getting her number, and I hadn’t thought about her again until Popeye began his accusations. Then he showed me the picture, and I knew I’d fucked up.
“Isn’t she always?” Popeye answered Ghost as I stood in front of them, unsure what I was supposed to do. Popeye looked at me and lifted his chin, remarking, “Take a seat. We’ll get this settled when she gets here.”
I took a seat in one of the chairs facing his desk and glanced around the room. It was filled with old motorcycle parts,calendars of half-naked women on the wall, and the smell of burnt oil and grease hung in the air. I was sure it was from Popeye picking up things with dirty hands throughout the years.
“How’s your grandfather?” Ghost asked as he took the seat beside me while we waited for his half-sister to arrive.
I looked at him and replied, “He’s doing better. The ear infection had him off-kilter for a few days, but he said he was feeling good when I spoke with him this morning.”
My grandfather raised me after my parents split when I was eleven years old. They got tired of being parents and left me to live with Pappy, and it had been the two of us ever since. I grew up in Rapid City, South Dakota, but he insisted I see the world. I traveled across the country after high school and settled in Minneapolis two years ago, when I was twenty-three. Marcus and I worked together at a welding shop, and after a year of talking, he invited me to prospect with his father’s club, the Phantom Renegades MC.
I’d never ridden a motorcycle, let alone been interested in joining a club, but after going to a few gatherings and seeing the brotherhood between them, I took his invitation and pledged an oath to the Phantom Renegades. I swore to be honorable to the patch, to never disrespect a brother or the patch, and no matter what, to stay away from Popeye’s daughter, Willow. She was born after his wife passed away and was Marcus’s half-sister. She was raised away from Popeye and the club, and he never wanted her to become an ol’ lady or a club whore, so he declared her to be off limits.
I didn’t think I was going to die anymore, but the longer we sat in the office, waiting for little miss troublemaker to arrive, the more I thought my prospecting with the Phantom Renegades was over. Even if Popeye decided I wasn’t at fault, he couldn’t let me become a patched brother after bedding his little girl. Even if the bed was the last place we fucked that night.
Stop thinking about how tight her pussy was, Dean. You’re going to get yourself killed over pussy.
A few agonizing minutes later, a knock sounded into the office, and Ghost got up and opened the door. I looked over my shoulder as he stepped to the side and Willow walked in. She had a smile on her face until she stepped past her brother and saw me sitting in the chair in front of her father. Her smile dropped as Ghost closed the door behind her.
She tried to press a smile back onto her face as she asked, “What’s up, Dad?”
He sat back and crossed his arms over his thick chest, and I couldn’t help but notice the gun was still on top of the desk. He scoffed as he looked at her and said, “You have one rule. One. Yet you can’t seem to remember it. What was that one rule, Willow?”
