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By now, the truth about Marcus D’Angelo has hit the media. His dirty fucking business has occupied the news for the last week. Craddock’s no doubt put two and two together that Marcus D’Angelo, the man known as a serial rapist and snuff film trafficker, was the man he stopped that night on the outskirts of Tempest. For all Craddock knows, Delilah died in that fire as well.

“Could do with some more security.” Craddock lifts a brow at Warren before turning to me.

“We’re working on it,” I answer as I lean back against the bar and cross my arms.

“Can’t be too careful, boys. Especially not after what happened to your parents.” He smirks, and I feel my patience thinning. Suddenly, all I want to do is fast-forward to the part where I break his face.

As Craddock goes through his worthless deputy motions, checking the lock, the marks on the door, he sucks his lip, says, “You had a waitress working here, didn’t you? Pretty girl, if I’m remembering correctly.”

My blood boils.

Warren sets the knife on the bar top, giving me a look to control my emotions. But that’s always been a losing game. My temper bests Warren’s every time. Especially when it comes to my family.

“Yeah, we did. In fact, she’s one of the important things that went missing that night.”

It’s a risk doing what we’re doing, but I’ve been off the fucking deep end for the last week. Craddock won’t get away with this. He left Delilah with that monster. Left her to be raped, to be murdered. He’ll pay.

“Sorry to hear that.” Setting his notepad aside, Craddock helps himself to another glass of whiskey from the bar, resting his liver-spotted hand beside the bottle.

“I doubt that very fucking much.”

He lifts the glass to his lips, studying me with a frown over the rim. “Son, you best watch your—”

I grab the knife from the bar and stab it through the top of Craddock’s hand. I hear the wet crunch of muscle, tendon, bone.

“Fuck!” Craddock screams as he tries to yank his hand away. But the knife’s deep, impaling him to the hard wood of the bar top.

“Looks painful,” Warren muses.

“What the fuck are you boys doing?” A pained gargle escapes Craddock’s mouth. Sweat streams down his face. A pool of blood spreads from his palm as he struggles against the knife.

“It doesn’t matter what we’re doing. I want to know what you fucking did.” I calmly pour myself a shot even as fury rages under my skin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” With his free hand, he fumbles for his holstered gun, but the front door opens, and River, waiting in the wings for when he’s needed, walks in.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” Quickly, quietly, River relieves Craddock of his gun.

I place a hand on his shoulder as he comes and stands by my side. You don’t need an army to win a fight; you just need a fuck-ton of crazy brothers.

I look at Craddock. “You knew the whole time she was mine and she had been taken from me. You called Rogan Hale and told him what you saw. And in return, he told you not to intervene. You let her go to that church. You saw her that night with that fucking monster, drugged, helpless, and you did nothing. Nothing!” I roar, slamming a fist against the bar top.

Langford pulled Craddock’s phone records. The last person he contacted that night, right around the time Delilah was in the limo with D’Angelo, was Mayor Hale.

They saw Delilah as a way to get to me. To fuck with our family once more.

“Tell me,” I demand, leaning in so he can see the bloodlust in my eyes. “Tell me you were there, you son of a bitch, or I start cutting off your fingers one by one.”

He laughs, his eyes wild with pain and hatred. “Of course I was there. The chance to stick it to Cole Weston? Son, it gave me great goddamn pleasure to have a hand in taking away something you wanted.”

Not wanted. Loved. Needed.

I keep my mouth shut, saying nothing, letting him talk, even though I want to put a bullet in his brain.

“Damn but she was beautiful. You had good taste, Weston. Seems like such a waste.” Craddock’s given up the fight to get free. His gaze is black and beady as he grins at me. “I hope you got a video that you can remember her by.”

River hitches a breath.

Hatred bubbles like acid in my veins. But I wait.