Twist the Knife (Lost Kings MC Book 24) by Autumn Jones Lake

Author:Autumn Jones Lake [Lake, Autumn Jones]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ahead of the Pack, LLC
Published: 2024-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Margot

It’s been weeks since my last “class” with Jigsaw. Ugh. It feels stupid and desperate that I’m actually calling it that. Especially after he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I’ve been tiptoeing around my own thoughts so I don’t dwell on why he’s been so distant. Anything to avoid triggering an avalanche of insecurities.

Why did I have to start feeling something for him—thinking it could be more than physical?

He’s sent me a few texts here and there—short, casual, meaningless. Like he’s sending them to some random woman he’s trying to let down easy. Nothing suggests he’s thinking about our lessons. It’s like he dropped me at the curb, and I’m getting more and more distant in his rearview mirror.

Am I overthinking things? Overreacting? I’m the one who asked for the lessons. Is he waiting for me to tell him I’m ready for another one?

Damn. Why is this so difficult?

Imagine how awful it’d be if this had been a genuine relationship.

I’m actually out of the house for once. On my way to meet my friend April to attend a class on The Modern Cremation Customer. Not exactly enthralling stuff, but necessary to keep my license. Except for the annual convention held at a casino a few hours west of us, my father prefers to do as many of these courses as he’s allowed online. I still prefer in-person lectures whenever I can. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet an under-thirty-five single guy while I’m there.

I spot April as soon as I pull into the parking lot. In her bright, butter-yellow dress, she’s hard to miss standing on the sidewalk in front of the entrance.

“Hi!” she shrieks and runs over the pavement to greet me as I step out of the car, holding my purse and a bag of supplies to get me through the morning. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” Her body collides with mine in an exuberant hug, a wash of gardenia and something earthier filling my nose as I return the embrace.

She holds me at arm’s length. “You look so adorable. I love the pink dress.” She fingers the collar of my black cardigan with pink edging. “This is too cute.” A bright grin breaks out over her face as her gaze lands on my tiny black-and-gold All men are cremated equal pin. “Stop it!” she squeals. “Oh my God, that’s hilarious for this class.”

“I know, right?” I return the grin, lock my door and slam it shut. “I love the dress.” I nod at her sleeveless cotton poplin dress with thick straps and a modest, square neckline. “Aren’t you worried you’ll be cold in there, though?”

She holds up a white-and-yellow tote bag. “I have a sweater in here.”

As soon as we step into the large lecture room, we stand out. Almost all our peers are twenty or more years older and dressed in professional attire at the darker end of the spectrum. April and I circulate around the room for a few minutes, saying hello to colleagues.

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