Page 27

I ’m not sure when this empty house started to become a home, but apparently the guys have been adding furniture and decorating rooms in between daring rescues and bloody murders.

Go fucking figure.

Looking out over our gorgeous pool deck with a view of the Valley under the midday sun, I can easily imagine future get-togethers, holidays, and raising our little one away from the chaos of an MC clubhouse. Maybe we’ll finally end the cycle of trauma and bigotry. All of it is right at the tip of my fingers. I can feel it.

I just have to kill my bastard brother first.

“You ready to head back to Charlie’s, doll?”

Ace’s arms wrap around my waist. There’s something about the simple comfort of leaning back into his chest that warms my icy heart.

“Yeah. We need to sit down and work out a plan. My brother?—”

Colt’s ringtone begins blaring from my phone, and a smile born of hate and fury slowly spreads across my face.

“Pretty sure brother dearest just received our latest delivery at his not-so-secret base of operations.”

“Answer it, but put it on speaker,” Ace murmurs.

Glancing over my shoulder, I shoot a narrow-eyed glare at my husband. “Might I remind you, we are no longer in the bedroom.”

He leans in until we’re nose to nose, his breath brushing over my lips. “Maybe I just like the fire that glints in your eyes when I use that tone.”

Speechless and wet. A combination I’m coming to realize is all too common with these men around.

He drops a kiss on my nose, then taps the screen. “Answer it. I’ll get the others.”

Clearing my throat, I shake off the lust haze from my brain and lift my phone.

“Remy’s House of Torture. Our special of the day is crooked FBI agents, with a two-for-one deal. What can I get for you?”

“You fucking bitch !” my brother yells through the line.

Footsteps echo through the cavernous room, and I spare a quick glance at my guys as they file into the space with angry glares aimed at the device in my hand.

“Well, hello to you too, Colt.”

“Where the hell is Kinney?”

“Oh. I thought it was pretty obvious considering you must’ve received our newest gift by now. You are amassing quite the impressive collection. You’re welcome, by the way. I felt like delivering this one to your evil lair was probably a safer bet. Wouldn’t want your colleagues and superiors getting suspicious, after all.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“Oh, you know. Just my usual. By now, he’s nothing more than ash, freeing the world from the taint of his vile existence.”

“So help me God, Remington, I’ll?—”

I drop the smile and feel everything inside me go cold. “You’ll what ? Bribe another one of our members to unwittingly plant fake evidence at the clubhouse then set up another raid in a lame attempt to get your evil clutches on my men? Which, I should remind you, you’ve spectacularly failed at already. Twice, in fact.”

“How the fuck?—”

“Your friend Kinney told us so many great stories.”

“You think you’ve won, but this isn’t over, sister. I will relish watching you suffer as I pick apart everything you hold dear. Those losers you fuck each night like a common little slut will be the first to go, and…”

Hearing him use that word causes a much different visceral reaction compared to when Saint says it, and I can feel the tension in the room rising with each syllable he spews. But as he rambles on, a plan slowly starts to form in my mind. He wants me to suffer. He wants glory. He wants to win . And I know just how to use that against him. Oblivious to what’s racing through my mind, he continues growling in my ear.

“Then that tramp sister who doesn’t deserve to still be breathing. The once powerful and feared MC that our esteemed father held so much pride in won’t be spared either. When you’re left with nothing but rubble surrounding you in this pathetic shit hole of a town, when you’re broken and defeated, it’ll be your turn. I’ll be hailed a hero, not only for ending the blight on Deadwood Peak, but for putting a stop to the killer no one has been able to catch. After the shit you’ve pulled, I’d decided to just take you out of the picture entirely. But maybe I’ll make you beg me for your life instead. Beg me to give you a choice on how I take you out. Death or prison.”

My demons are livid, battering against their cages with a bloodthirst that’s reaching unhealthy levels. I’ve always toed the line that exists between reality and the Avenging Angel, but the longer this hell with my brother is drawn out, the more that line is starting to blur, and that’s a terrifying thought. All the more reason to bring this shit to a close.

“You’re getting a bit repetitive, brother, but you’ve got one thing right. It’s not over. At least not until you’re dead and your ashes are blowing in the hot desert wind.” My eyes scan the men surrounding me, receiving support without them having to say anything at all. “As I reminded your friend, Kinney… I don’t believe in mercy for men like you. You’ll get no options from me. There’s only one ending to your story, and there will be no sequels.”

I click the button and casually slide my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, the weight of the guys’ stares a steady pressure on my chest.

“For the record, I’m going to cut out his tongue for trying to corrupt my word,” Saint grumbles, breaking through the silence.

One haughty brow raises dramatically high. “Don’t worry. If you don’t, I will.”

His hand slides along my jaw as he grips my face and pulls me in for a heated kiss. “Next chance I get, you’re coming on my cock. Understood?”

Trip coughs, “Dumbass.”

I hide my smile. “Yes, sir,” I whisper against his lips before I take a step back.

Grant’s eyes are trained on me—his expression one I recognize all too well.

“I see the gears turning, Rem. What’s going on in that beautifully depraved brain of yours?” Squire asks.

“My brother wants to destroy my world while I watch it all crash and burn around me.”

“Yeah, he made that shit real clear.” Ace crosses his arms over his chest, sharing a look with Rogue. “We need to end this fucker before someone really gets hurt. Now that we’re onto him, he might start getting reckless.”

“It’s simple. We give him what he wants.”

The room is suddenly in an uproar, their growling and snarled words drowning out my ability to think. It’s like I’m suddenly surrounded by a pack of wild, rabid animals.

Trip runs his hand over his head, his eyes filled with worry. “Absolutely not, baby girl. You’re not handing yourself over to that asshole.”

Rogue just shakes his head, the muscles in his jaw flexing as his teeth grind together.

“Been there, done that, you killed the motherfucker,” Saint quips.

“I don’t think that’s what she meant, guys.” Grant is still studying me, his head tilted as one hand tugs on his beard.

“He’s right. I’m not handing myself over.”

“Care to enlighten us then, doll?”

“I’m handing us all over…” I barely get the last word out before chaos once again erupts around me. Crossing my arms, I sit and wait for them to wear themselves out. Long seconds later, when they’ve mostly quieted down, I add, “Or at least giving him the illusion that I am.”

The look Ace gives me clearly says I better explain myself before his patience runs out. Of course, if I hesitate a bit more, I’m sure some sort of punishment would be involved and I’m not all that sure that’s a bad thing. With a sigh born of disappointment, I decide to leave the punishments for another time and take pity on him.

“Okay, okay… fine . I’ll outline my plan for you, but I think we need to get all of the major players to Charlie’s for a meeting. We’ll need everyone’s cooperation for this to be believable.”

“Saint, make sure Etta and the guys are already there. Trip, call Big Mack and the other officers and have them meet us in an hour. Rogue, get a hold of Jay. Something tells me we’ll need him there as well. I’m going to give Charlie a call and let her know we’re invading her space.”

All the men walk off, leaving me alone with Squire.

“What aren’t you saying, Remy?” he asks, closing the distance between us until he’s staring down at me with worried eyes.

“What makes you think I’m withholding something?”

“You get this look on your face when you’re not telling me something because you think I’ll freak out.”

My hands reach for his hips, needing the touch to ground me.

“We always knew my time as the Avenging Angel would be finite.”

His hands slide across my lower back and tug me in just a little closer. “We did. Statistically speaking, serial killers don’t go on to live happily ever afters. But what does that have to do with?—”

“I have no plans of getting myself killed, but I won’t lose any of you either. We’re doing this my way or not at all, and I need you to back me up on that.”

His eyes intently search mine, trying to figure out what exactly it is I’m asking of him. “Remy, it’s not just us anymore. The guys?—”

“The guys will want to protect me. You saw them earlier. They'll jump in front of a bullet before letting Colt hurt me. They want me and the baby safe, and I can’t fault them for that, but I need to do this alone. I need to make sure all of you are safe and he doesn’t live to breathe a single breath more.”

“You know I’ve always got your back, but the fact that you’re asking this of me makes me think this whole thing might be a little riskier than you’re letting on. Why don’t you tell me?—”

I shake my head. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

“And you trust that I would never intentionally put myself and my baby in harm's way if I didn’t know, with one hundred percent certainty, that we’d both make it out alive?”

Calloused fingers run along my jaw, his thumb brushing against my lower lip.

“Remington, I trust you with every last fiber of my being, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to protect what I can finally claim as mine.”

If serial killers could swoon, I’d be a puddle at his feet for sure.

“I love you, Grant. For the way you’ve always been here for me. For the way you helped me rediscover the woman I’ve become. For everything you’ve given me without ever expecting a single thing in return. I am yours, and nothing and no one will ever take me away from you. You hear me?”

With his lips brushing mine, he whispers, “I hear you.”

Then he kisses me, and this one is unlike any that have come before. I can sense the sheer force of his love in the way he holds me tight as his mouth takes mine, but there’s a gentleness that makes me feel like a precious treasure when I’m here in his arms.

“Just promise me one thing,” he murmurs, drawing back enough to tenderly place his forehead on mine.

“Anything.”

“When this is all over, we focus on us—our relationships and growing family. We take the time to just live …without fear and the past tarnishing what we’re building.”

“When this is all over, there won’t be anything stopping us. I’ll literally give you the world, Grant Wilson. You just wait and see.”

“And the Avenging Angel? What happens to her?”

The thought makes everything inside me go still, like the different facets of who I am are just as curious about the answer. I know what needs to happen, but when the time comes, will I be brave enough to see it through?

Shaking my head, I stare into his bright blue eyes. “I’m not sure.”

Who am I without her? Is Remington enough for the men who have devoted themselves to the both of us? If she’s gone, how will I contain that darkness that exists within me?

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out together.”

His kiss steals away the hint of panic rearing up at a future where the Avenging Angel doesn’t exist.