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Laughter rolls through the line, low, amused.

"Funny," the Collector replies smoothly. "I was just about to tell you the same thing."

My grip tightens until the plastic creaks.

"How did you like my gifts?" He wants to know.

I ignore that remark, having no patience for games, not while hot rage burns through me. "You killed my sister."

After all these years, I finally know who is behind it, and when I'm done with him, there won't be anything left but pieces of flesh and ashes.

"You killed my whole family," he counters.

I file that piece of information away for later. "I'm going to kill you slowly, you fucking piece of shit."

He laughs harder, genuinely delighted. "Does that mean you're going to sacrifice the sweet little Audra? Because there is only one way she stays alive. The price is your life. I'll text you the address. But be warned—come alone. The place is watched. I won't hesitate to scorch it with everybody inside if you're not alone."

I snarl a curse. "Start writing your obituary. A few biker losers won't stop me."

"Ah, Gabe," he tsks, almost fondly. "You should have taken my offer when I made it. And by the way… nice try with Damiano, but I think I might prefer Alessio, instead."

The line goes dead.

"Motherfucker."

I immediately dial Alessio's. It rings once, twice—then goes straight to voicemail. Fuck. I try again. Nothing.

"Fucking fuck."

I call Massimo next.

He answers on the first ring. "Gabe?—"

"No time to explain. The Collector's after Alessio. I've tried to call him, but he won't answer. Get him out of there. Now."

I hang up before he can ask questions. My chest is heaving like I just sprinted through hell. Rage and terror are braided so tight I can barely breathe. Audra is in that shithole with Razor's hands on her. Bleeding. Screaming for me not to come.

A ding. The address. I know that place and the area. I've never been inside for long, but a long time ago I made a few deals there. I whirl on Kale with pure venom in my voice.

"Get every man we have. I want eyes on that shithole bar in five minutes, but tell them to stay the fuck back. Nobody moves until I say. I'm going in alone."

Kale opens his mouth, then wisely closes it. He knows that tone. He knows there's no arguing when I look like this. I'm already moving toward the armory locker, grabbing extra magazines, a knife, and the compact .45 I keep for close work. My mind is a storm, Audra's tear-streaked face on that video, the Collector's laugh, Catarina's kid, Alessio.

He wants me to trade my life for hers. Fine. I'll walk in alone. But I'm not leaving that bar without her breathing in my arms. And every single motherfucker who touched her is going to die screaming tonight. Even if I have to burn the whole damn place down with me still inside it.

Kale's face pales. "Boss?—"

"Alone," I snarl, stepping into his space until he's forced to tilt his head back. "They want me. They get me. I can deal with a fucking biker gang. And when I walk out of there with her, I'm going to paint the walls with every last one of those motherfuckers. Starting with Razor. Ending with the fucking Collector."

My hands are shaking. Not from fear. From the sheer, volcanic need to get to her. To hold her. To tell her again that I love her, right before I kill every bastard who made her scream. I turn and start moving, already racking the .45, chambering a round with a metallic snap that sounds like a promise. Audra is mine. And I'm coming for her. Even if it costs me everything.

My mind is a complete mess. Louie's body is still warm on the floor, and blood slowly spreads beneath his head. Razor is circling me like a hyena, eyes crawling over every inch of exposed skin from the clinging shirt to the tight jeans. The sting of his slaps burns across my cheek and lip, but it's nothing compared to the terror clawing through my chest.

Flea stands a few feet away, arms crossed, looking uneasy.

Razor grins down at me, slow and ugly. "Now let's wait for your new boyfriend to show up. In the meantime…" He jerks his chin toward the center of the room. "Get her on the table, Flea."

The table. My stomach drops. It's right there in the middle of the room, heavy metal, bolted to the floor, with thick shackles on all four corners. I was never around when they used it, but I heard rumors…