Page 29

T he sound of a motorcycle engine roars above the music, and we all share one last look before everyone finds their places. Everyone we invited has already come and gone, and the rest of the members were sent a message about the clubhouse being closed down for renovation work. That leaves only one person that would be pulling up right now. The guys take up spots around the room while I sit in the dead center, perched in Rock’s favorite chair we pulled from his office. Crossing my legs and placing my forearms along the wooden arm rests, I let my darkness consume me. From the tips of my toes to the hair on my head, cold takes over. There’s no place for emotions here—only focus and the determination to kill the man who no longer deserves to walk this Earth.

The creak of the front door has my demons perking up just before I get my first glimpse at my brother. Fury rushes through my blood fast and hard, but I manage to rein it back in. Barely. The motherfucker has the nerve to wear a Sinner’s Mark cut, a pair of sunglasses—at night —and a baseball hat covering his dark hair. His beard has nearly been trimmed off. His stonewashed jeans and black boots look like they’ve never even been worn. If he thinks he’s disguising himself in that get-up, he’s more delusional than I thought. That, or his ego is so big he truly believes he’s unstoppable.

Definitely the latter. Time to prove him wrong.

The music cuts out, and he comes to an abrupt halt when he takes in the mostly empty room. At the sight of me, his fists clench and unclench by his sides. Slowly, he removes the sunglasses, and even from twenty-five feet away, I recognize the spark of hatred that lights up in eyes that are so eerily similar to my own.

“Hello, Colt.”

“Remington.”

“Fancy seeing you here tonight.”

He casually slides his hands into his jeans pockets, and I keep my eyes trained on them in case he decides to be stupid and go for a weapon. Instead, he slowly glances around the room, taking in the men who are watching him like a hawk.

“Funny. Looked like you were having a BBQ. Where’d all your guests go? Didn’t want to stick around for a lame ass Sinner’s Mark party?”

“There was a party happening here tonight? Huh. Didn’t get that memo.”

His jaw muscles clench as he no doubt realizes the information he was given was purposely planted by the men loyal to me .

“So what’s your next step, sister? Shoot me where I stand? Have your muscleheads beat me to death? Kill me with that knife you’re so fond of?”

“Hmm. Where’s the fun in that? I’ve gotta keep you guessing just a bit longer, or it will take all the excitement out of it for me.”

His nostrils flare. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I brought some back-up with me.”

As if they were waiting for their cue, a group of uniformed men rush through the door, covered in head-to-toe black, with bulletproof vests on. Each of them points a gun at one of my men, with two of them aiming their guns at me.

Little does he know…

“Oh. Hey. Looks like you showed up just in time,” I quip.

Almost in sync, they turn, the muzzle of their rifles now aimed at Colt’s head.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls. “You’re here because I paid you to be. She’s the target.”

My grin is wicked. “Kinney gave me a list of names, and honestly, it’s sad how quickly allegiances can shift thanks to a little cash. Turns out I offered them just a teensy bit more than you did, so they readily switched sides. Crooked FBI agents really don’t have loyalties to anyone. Not even their own colleagues. ”

“You’re all going to regret this. I’ll?—”

“You’ll what? Explain to your superiors that you hired these esteemed agents to come here with you to kill me? Wonder what they’ll think of that, brother .”

He’s seething. With every move he tries to make, he’s finally the one two steps behind. I’ll be damned if that doesn’t make my dark little heart a happy little camper.

“What do you want, Remington? We’re at a stand still. We both know this needs to end, but maybe we can come to some sort of agreement. I’ll let you?—”

I stand, giving my demons free reign. “You’ll let me? I’m the one with the upper hand here. You’re nothing more than a pathetic excuse of a man who has just been bested by a woman—his own sister —who did absolutely nothing to deserve the hatred and malice you’ve shown her. So, no . There won’t be any agreement . And maybe you all forgot, but mercy isn’t in my vocabulary. In fact, I have a particularly strong distaste for disloyalty, so unfortunately, boys, your time with us has come to an end.”

With barely enough time to blink, Ace, Trip, Rogue, Saint, and Grant have their guns out. My men—the ones who have strived to pull their club out of the dregs of society and make it a respectable and profitable organization—pull the triggers, a cacophony of blasts echoing through the room. Five bodies drop to the floor while Rogue and Saint quickly shift and put a bullet in the remaining two men’s heads.

They did this for me. Killed…for me . I’m not sure anything could be as romantic as that.

“You won’t get away with this, Remington. Killing a single agent is one thing, but this many missing agents is going to get noticed.”

My smirk grows almost too wide for my face. “Oh, I know. I’m counting on it.”

His brow creases as he tries to work through my plan.

“It’s okay.” I wave my hand through the air. “You don’t need to overwork that pitiful little brain of yours. I want you fully processing what I’m about to do to you. Now, get on your knees, brother , and put your hands behind your head.”

When he doesn’t move fast enough, I pull my knife out of my thigh holster and flick it open.

He sneers. “Let me guess. We can do this the easy way or the hard way ?”

My blade flies from my hand, embedding itself right in the meat of his thigh. He cries out, hands gripping the wounded limb as he drops to his knees.

“Nope. I like to keep things way simpler than that.” Glancing over at Rogue, I see the hint of lust reflecting back at me. “Rogue, would you be so kind as to restrain Colt for me, please?”

My big guy stalks forward, pulling out an extra long zip tie.

“Front or back, gorgeous?”

“Front, please. I have plans for those fingers of his.”

With my eyes trained on Colt, who flinches when Rogue wrenches his hands away from the bleeding wound in his leg, I feel unbridled satisfaction as he’s restrained, his chest heaving from the pain. Then Rogue leans forward, gripping the handle of the knife, and gives it a good twist. Colt’s scream echoes through the room.

“Oops.” Rogue pulls the knife out of Colt’s leg, wiping it along his black pants legs to remove the bloody mess, then heads straight for me and holds it out. “You might need this.”

Seriously. All the swoons. But not the time.

“Tell me, Colt. You honestly expected to walk in here tonight and do…what? Face off with Ace and the Sinner’s Mark leadership? Look Etta in the eye and expect her not to stab you in yours? I’m seriously so confused. You did have a plan, right ?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you anything?”

“Because you claim to be so much better than me . Don’t you want the opportunity to give the ultimate evil villain monologue…even if you didn’t actually win? Consider it my first, last, and only gift to you. Your last meal, if you wish.”

He quietly seethes, sweat breaking out along his forehead as blood continues to seep through his jeans. “I fucking hate you, Remington.”

“No doubt. If I were you, I’d hate me too. But the clock is ticking. Tick tock. Tick tock.”

Taking a deep breath in, he exhales roughly. “You had everything I ever wanted, yet you despised it all. You ignored the father who loved you so much, he disowned his firstborn son to keep me away from you. You hated the club and all it entailed. Hell, you barely talked to your own twin. I was all alone and would’ve fucking killed for even a fraction of what you had, so that’s what I decided to do. If I couldn’t have it, neither could you. So, I started digging. Found your dark little secret and knew I could use that to bring you down. I was going to take it all away from Daddy’s little princess so you’d finally know what it’s like to have nothing.”

“If you did your digging, then you’d know the why behind every single one of those things you despise me for. How could you take anything from me when they’d already taken it all?”

“But you still had a family. You still had a whole fucking group of people behind you. None of that went away just because some jackass took your virginity. Poor, pitiful Remington.” He spits on the ground toward my feet. “Grow a fucking pair of balls and admit that you had more than I ever did.”

Ace takes a couple of steps toward Colt, but I stop him with a shaking hand, the level of sheer rage rushing through my veins making my entire body vibrate. “He’s. Mine.”

“Then hurry it up, wife. Our patience is running thin.” He backs up, but his eyes tell me everything I need to know. Where I’m concerned, my men have no patience at all.

Stalking toward my brother, I flip the knife back and forth like it’s nothing more than a pencil. “Colt, do you have any idea what it’s like having a dick shoved into your dry virgin asshole?”

“I—”

“No. You don’t. I’m fully willing to give you a demonstration if it will help that tiny fucking brain of yours comprehend even a fraction of what I endured that night. Hell, I can give you a full play-by-play if you think you might need it to fully grasp the level of pain and agony and terror that went through my fifteen-year-old mind for hours . Kinney actually seemed to enjoy it, so just say the word…”

He swallows harshly.

“Hmm. See, Colt, you have no idea what that sort of violation does to a young girl. You may not have had a whole lot of love, but you had a roof over your head, a father who at least attempted to provide for you, an education, and, hell, even a damned decent career until you threw it all away to get revenge on me—someone who was nothing but a victim herself.” I shake my head in disappointment, running the blade between my fingers. “Ya know, part of me really does pity you. The other… Well, she wants you dead something fierce.”

“Look, maybe we can start over. We could?—”

In the blink of an eye, I’m in his face with the blade pressed up against his throat. “No.”

“But what if?—”

“No.”

Someone—I’m pretty sure it’s Saint—snorts.

“Stealing my line, gorgeous?” Rogue asks from the sidelines.

“I kinda dig it,” I murmur, never taking my eyes off Colt. “So where do we start, hmm? Fingers, for paying someone to take out Etta and killing Rock instead? Or maybe your tongue for setting up my guys for things they didn’t do?”

“And for using my word. Don’t forget that one,” Saint blurts out.

“Why don’t we start here and see where the night takes us, yeah?”

With that, I pull the black brass knuckles out of my pocket, motion to Grant to turn on the music, and get to work.