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T hat smirk. It’s as familiar as the stocky build and cocky attitude. They’re exact likenesses of the man that raised us—Rock, our father.

The truth of it all is like a slap in the face. Rock did cheat on our mother, but not with Stella. No, it was with whatever two-bit club whore gave birth to the jackass standing in front of me, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

My emotions are in an uproar, but I don’t let even a hint of that shit show.

“Hello… brother .”

His sigh is as exaggerated as his ego. “How I’ve longed to hear those words from your lips, dear sister.”

My hand strokes down the center of Killer’s head. His body is tense, at full attention, waiting for an order. “Tell me, Colt, what’s your endgame here?”

His eyes narrow, his head tilting, the manic grin still plastered on his face. “What do you mean? I want a chance to get to know my beloved sister, obviously.”

“Cut the bullshit. You want us dead. Hardly think that would give you the opportunity to learn shit-all about us other than our coffin sizes. Tell me why you’re really doing this, then we can move on to the next level of this fucked-up game you’re playing.”

He tsks like a disappointed parent. “Now, see, I don’t want you dead.”

My stare doesn’t waver.

“Fine. Straight to the point. I like it.” His thumb and forefinger raise to his beard, tugging on it slowly. “It’s quite simple, really, little sister. All I ever wanted was a family, but Rock always had a denial ready for me. Over and over and over again. Hell, even after Ma died, he wouldn’t let me meet the only blood I had left. As far as I’m concerned, the selfish, old bastard got what he deserved.”

My demons’ demands are growing louder by the second. Fury roils through my blood, and I barely manage to keep it in check.

“Bet that got under your skin. Your hired thug missed his target.”

“You’re right. That bullet was meant for your twin, but dear ol’ dad just had to take something else away from me—my chance to put the fucker six feet under myself. But, admittedly, I missed the swap you and Etta had pulled, so I guess you can say this worked out better for me in the long run. Would’ve ended my game a little too soon for my liking.”

Internally, I count to ten to get myself under control. Whether intentionally or not, he’s given away more than once that his main focus is me. But why?

“You seem to know an awful lot about us. Rock wasn’t the most chatty guy, so how is that possible?”

“I still remember the night I overheard him telling my mother about his beautiful newborn twin girls and how it might be longer between trips because of it. Life changed after that. Ma fell into drugs and forgot I existed altogether. When Rock would make rare appearances, he’d give her money and tell her to clean her shit up, but it wasn’t enough. All that did was fuel her hatred…of both of us. Instead of buying food, she’d binge on drugs. Our home became a revolving door for the losers she’d bring home to use her for her money and me for a punching bag. When Rock inevitably came back around, I’d beg him to take me with him. To let me live with him and the sisters he always talked about. There was always an excuse, and I was so pathetic, I believed him. I was only eight and didn’t know any better. Looking back at it now, I can see his reluctance for what it truly was…a lie. He never had any intention of letting me get close to you or his precious club.”

That sounds like Rock. Tell you what you want to hear and worry about the fallout later. On one hand, I feel bad for the little boy he was. I want my child to have the kind of life we didn’t—simple family meals, holidays without violence, and hugs given freely no matter who happened to be watching. On the other hand, no matter his sob story, I want to gut the man he’s become.

“So what stopped you from reaching out to us once we were adults?”

“Are you kidding? Rock forbade any contact, and I was so desperate for his approval I listened. When I was twenty-five, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just needed to see what you all had that I didn’t, so I got ballsy and drove my piece of shit car all the way to Deadwood Peak just to get a glimpse of the revered Steele twins. You were around eighteen at the time, I think. Watching both of you from afar, I saw just how different he was with you. Even though you acted like a bitch to him, he still loved you. Yet here I was, the dutiful, obedient son who had spent years doing what I thought would get him to finally respect me. He said jump, and I asked how high. I never questioned him. Never let him see me cry. I worked out every spare second I had, so I could bulk up and prove I was strong enough to hold my own in the club. I kept hoping that one day he’d see I was worthy of the time and energy he gave so effortlessly to you. Fuck, I was so damn naive. Turns out, I wasn’t ever going to be good enough. No matter what I did to earn my place in this family, I would always be kept on the outside.”

So, basically he’s a murderous asshole because he’s butthurt he didn’t get the love and affection he wanted? There are over three-hundred-and-fifty-thousand kids in the foster care system and probably a shit ton more who are stuck in dysfunctional homes. He’s not the only one. Hell, it’s not like Etta and I were raised behind white picket fences. I was raped right under Rock’s nose, for Christ’s sake. Bruh can get in the whine line… all the way at the back.

Except I don’t say any of that. I continue petting Killer’s head, sliding together pieces of the puzzle that’s finally starting to come together, because I need more. He’s not shy about his past, that’s for damn sure. Maybe it’s time to poke at the wound a little—learn as much about him as he apparently knows about us.

“That’s it? You gave up like some little bitch? No wonder Dad never brought you here. Strength isn’t just about how big your biceps are when you flex. This life requires you to have impenetrable will and a soul so dark that death himself is scared of it. You just don’t have what it takes to be a Steele.”

Anger flashes across his face. “Watch it, Remington. I might decide holding back isn’t such a good idea after all.”

“No one asked you to.”

He takes a few seconds to compose himself. I watch every little detail, cataloging his weak points and noting the things that make my big brother tick so I can exploit them.

Daddy issues.

Abandonment issues.

A need for approval.

Cockiness that will be his downfall.

“I didn’t give up . I made a stupid fucking slip and mentioned something I shouldn’t have known during one of our rare calls. He caught on that I was close, too close, in his opinion. Threatened to end me if I so much as stepped a toe into Deadwood Peak ever again.”

Ah, there it is, the moment that tipped him right over the proverbial ledge. But something he said earlier keeps picking at my brain.

“I’m curious, Colt. What exactly did you do to earn your place in this family? Couldn’t be prospecting for the club because, as you said, Rock refused to bring you into the fold. My guess is you only got in because Uncle Storm is about as observant as a gnat.”

If smug had a face, I’d be staring right at it.

“See, that’s the true genius of my plan right there, Remington. What started as a way to help earn Rock’s trust became the way I could bring about his downfall. That was the beginning of my brilliant plan, which is still unfolding. In fact…” He raises his wrist to glance at his watch. “I’d bet that you’ll be getting a call any second?—”

Before he finishes that thought, my phone rings. I don’t want to look at it. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.

“Trust me, you’re gonna want to get that.”

With my eyes locked on his, I pull my phone from my pocket. Big Mack’s name flashes across the screen, so I tap the green button.

“Please tell me it’s not more bad news.”

“Remy, Etta and her guys were in an accident on the freeway!”

My gut plummets to the floor.

“Is she…” I swallow harshly, my voice hoarse. I can’t lose my twin. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to stop myself from killing every motherfucker in this town if that happens…starting with Colt.

“Fuck! They’ve got her, Remy. Someone’s fucking got her! We were on the phone when it happened, and I heard her scream, followed by the sound of tires squealing. Then the line went dead. With Squire gone, I had Trace track her cell. It took him fucking forever . As soon as we had their location, we raced straight here, but they’re gone. A witness said a white van pulled up right as the crash happened, and men in black ski masks fucking dragged them all out of the busted ass car and threw them into the open door of the van. There’s a fuck ton of blood, and I’m not sure how they could’ve survived. What the fuck is happening?”

My fury is threatening to boil over, but I manage to keep it in check…barely. “I’m not sure, but I’ve got a pretty good hunch. I’ll call you back.”

“Remy, wait!”

Disconnecting the call, I slip my phone back into my pocket, taking a deep breath in and exhaling. I want to kill him. Send the knife sheathed at my ankle sailing right through his black heart. But I can’t. Won’t . He’s got my sister, and until I know what else he’s got up his sleeve, I can be patient… will be patient. Almost everyone I care about has been knocked off the playing board by this asshole, but I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been. I can do this.

Panic tries to rear up, but my demons beat it back for me.

You can do this, Remington. Take a deep breath in and exhale. That’s it. No one can hurt you anymore.

My eyes raise, meeting Colt’s stare head on. “Your work, I presume?”

His hand lifts to his chest. “Look at us. Bonding over the absolute shit storm swirling around you created by yours truly. Whatever will you do, I wonder, now that your entire support system has been ripped out from under you?”

So he doesn’t know about Aunt Charlie. I have to keep it that way.

But then another thought strikes. Does Aunt Charlie know about him ? She and Rock were close even after she left the club. Would he have kept this from her? I bury the betrayal that’s slithering through me like poison, trying to taint the relationship I barely just got back. Instead, I shift my focus to more pressing matters.

“Where have you taken my sister?”

“Hmmm. Don’t you mean our sister?”

Don’t kill him, Remy. Do. Not. Kill. Him.

“Where is Beretta? I won’t ask again.”

He smacks his lips together like a jackass. “She’s fine...for now. If you consider being kept unconscious until I can confirm I have your full cooperation fine , that is.”

“And her guys?” I grind out.

“Who the fuck cares about those losers?”

“Etta does, and I care about Etta, so they fall under my protection as well.”

He sighs dramatically, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and giving it a cursory glance. “We’re keeping them sedated as well. There weren’t any major injuries. Just some stitches and a hell of a lot of scrapes and bruises.”

“And I’m just supposed to blindly trust that they’re still alive?”

“I’ve got proof.” He clicks a couple of buttons until my cell chimes. “That’s a link to a twenty-four-hour feed of the rooms our sister and her men are being held in.”

Pulling out my phone, I click on the link. When it opens, I’m looking at a rotating loop of livestreams from four individual rooms. Etta’s flashes up on the screen, and it takes every ounce of control I possess to keep my face blank.

Her head is being bandaged by a man in a white lab coat. An IV bag sits beside her bed, and a tube runs to her bruised arm. Her eyes are closed, but I’m able to make out the slight rise and fall of her chest before the screen changes again.

My demons are viciously shaking the bars of their cages, demanding I do something, but he’s smart. Smarter than I gave him credit for. Until I know everything, I can’t risk making the wrong move and jeopardizing those I love.

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice monotone and cold.

“What do I want?” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “For years, I’ve wanted to see you and Etta suffer in ways a person in their right mind would never dare dream of. I wanted to see the look on your face as everything you loved was destroyed. I wanted to be the one whose name they remember for taking down the indomitable Steele family.” He takes a step closer, and Killer releases a low warning growl. “But then I discovered who you truly are, and my plan changed. There’s one thing I now want more than any of that. I’ve watched, and I’ve waited. I’ve admired your intelligence, your strength, and your cunning. I know everything there is to know about you, little sister, and there’s one way to end all of this right now.”

My eyes narrow, and my hand stills on Killer’s head. “It’s about time you got to the point.”

He smiles like he has me right where he wants me. “Turn yourself over to me, and I’ll let everyone else go.”

I blink. “Turn myself over?”

“Imagine it…” He raises his hands, arcing them through the air like a game show host. “The Avenging Angel giving herself over to me. ”

I’m not surprised that he knows my darkest secret. Viper had to get his information from somewhere, after all, and this man has been pulling the strings almost too effortlessly from the shadows. The real question is, just how much string does he have left?

“Then you’ll…what? Make me play house, pretending we’re the perfect little family you never had growing up like the deranged psychopath you are? Hand me over to the police? Kill me?”

He laughs. “Oh, little sister, you still haven’t figured it out yet.”

I barely manage to withhold my growl. “Why don’t you clue me in?”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?” He checks his watch again. “The clock is ticking. What will you choose, I wonder? You or them? Save yourself, or be noble and give your life for theirs?”

I can tell by the cocky way he’s holding himself that he’s anticipating an immediate answer. Little does he know, I’m not only stronger, but smarter. Going against every instinct I have to fix this now—by handing myself over to save those I love—I inhale, exhale, and let a small smile appear for the first time in hours.

“Guess you’ll find out when I make my decision.” His smirk falls, hands fisting at his sides. “Now, get the hell out of my house. You’re not welcome here.”

Killer growls fiercely, standing and staring Colt down. My brother takes a couple steps back, bumping into the wall behind him.

“Don’t try anything stupid, little sister. Remember, I know everything. One call from me, and everyone you care about will be permanently wiped off the board . I hold the cards here.”

“If that were true, you would’ve played them already.”

“One little text from me, and a syringe with a nasty cocktail of medicine will be injected into Etta’s IV. You’re really willing to risk your sister, your twin , just to prove a point?”

“You kill Etta, and you lose your leverage.” His eyes go wide. Sliding Rogue’s gift out of its sheath, I let it roll between my fingers. “You’re not the only one with tricks up their sleeve, brother . In fact, right now, I’d be more concerned about the sleeping giant you just woke up with this little game you’re playing. For someone who knows everything about me , I’d have thought you’d understand that I would never bow down to you.”

“Not even if it means your twin and those pathetic men of yours live to see another day? You don’t think I’ve been planning this for years? How is it not clear to you yet that I’ve plotted out all the angles and anticipated your every move? I’m the one with all of the power here!”

“Are you sure about that, or are you really just scared that I might beat you at your own game, which is why you’ve pigeonholed me into this ridiculousness? Is it because you know I’m better than you? More ruthless . More vindictive. More Steele than you could ever hope to be.”

Crazy flashes in his eyes, anger making the veins pop out along his temples. “You have no idea how dangerous I am, Remington. You don’t scare me.”

“No? If that’s true, and you really want a challenge, then how about we make this game a little more interesting? If you’re really that much better than me, what difference does it make if I hand myself over now, in a few days, or even a few weeks? What will waiting a little longer to get your prize really do in the grand scheme of things, besides giving you more time to gloat about who has the bigger balls?”

He stares into my eyes from behind a face that looks so much like a younger version of our father’s I’m having trouble not interchanging the two. There’s an overconfidence there that I’m playing into, using against him, because he’s more like our father than he realizes.

“Fine. Midnight. Two weeks from today. That’s all you get. If you can’t manage to undo the mess you’ve found yourself in, along with every single obstacle I throw at you between now and then, and trust me, there’s more coming, then everything that happens after will be on you. You’ll be forced to live with the fact that Etta’s death and the deaths of the five men you love will be on your hands. Considering Rock’s death already is, I’d hate to see what happens when I pile the rest of their corpses on.”

“Deal.” I don’t need to say more. I’m already making plans in my head.

“Remember, I’ve got eyes and ears all over, Remington. You don’t stand a chance.”

“Run along now, big brother. I’ve got a demise to plan.” His jaw clenches, and I know he wants to say more, but I don’t let him. “Oh, and if I see your face again, I won’t hesitate to carve it up and frame it for my wall. Remember that …and watch your back.”

“I’ll never give up, Remington.”

“Guess we’ll see who plays the game better, won’t we? Daddy’s favorite little girl, or the piece of trash he tossed to the curb.”

“Fuck you,” he snarls.

My knife sails through the air, penetrating the wall right next to his head.

“You were saying?”

He swallows harshly. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you realize you’ve lost. To me. My offer will remain on the table until your time runs out. Consider it carefully. It’s the only way any of you will make it out of this alive.”

With that parting shot, he turns and walks out the door.

The sudden silence washes over me as hate flows through my veins like lava. His day will come. For now, I need to be smart. Getting to work, I copy the link and send it to an encrypted email that will scrub it for any traces of spyware or tracking programs, then walk over and yank my knife out of the wall. With a serious amount of pent-up aggression, I set my phone onto the counter and stab the knife right through the middle of it. I’ll grab one of the new ones I have set aside for this exact reason. No way am I underestimating him.

My brother may think he’s got this shit in the bag, but he doesn’t yet realize my comeback game is on point. I just need to make a plan, be methodical, and remember who I am.

I’m the fucking Avenging Angel, and he’s about to learn exactly what that means.