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“Yes,” he said.

“When?” she asked.

“You were little,” he said.

“How little?” she asked.

“The last time I saw you was just before Elena died; you were eight,” he said. Her mother had died when Angel was nine. She searched her memories, but there weren't many clear ones from that age. She remembered her mother cooking, her father coming through the front door wearing his kutte, Halloween parties, motorcycles, music, club brothers everywhere, and—a man.

Angel sucked in a breath. “The fair.”

Bishop's face changed, and Ghost's arm tightened around her. “What fair?” Jackhammer asked.

Angel barely heard him. She stared at Bishop. “You took me on the Ferris wheel.”

His eyes filled. “Yes.”

“You bought me cotton candy,” she remembered.

“Yes,” he said.

“It was blue,” she breathed. She remembered the way that it turned her fingers the same color.

Bishop smiled through whatever emotion he was fighting. “You wanted pink, but they were out,” Angel remembered. She remembered being angry about it. She remembered her mother laughing as Viper stood beside a game booth arguing with Crow about whether the basketball game was rigged. And another man stood with them. She believed his name was Samuel, but she hadn't remembered his last name. He was just Samuel.

“You were Mom's friend,” she said. “That’s how she introduced you to me.”

Bishop looked down. “Yes.”

Razor laughed. “Friend.”

Ghost moved so quickly that Angel barely saw him. One second, he was beside her and the next he had Razor pinned against a post. “Make another fucking sound.”

Razor smiled. “Touchy.”

Ghost slammed him harder against the beam. “Haven't killed you yet because Angel needs answers. Don't confuse that with mercy.”

“Ghost,” Angel said his name softly. He immediately looked at her, and that mattered more than she wanted to think about right now.

“Come here,” she ordered. Ghost released Razor and returned to her side without argument. Angel took his hand, and then she reached for Jackhammer's. Neither man hesitated. She stood there, anchored between them. Maybe that was what she'd been missing all these years. She never needed someone to save her. She needed someone who would stand there with her while she saved herself—or in this case, two someones.

Angel looked at Bishop. “Tell me everything.” Bishop nodded. “No more lies.”

“No more,” he promised.

“No protecting me,” she insisted.

His mouth tightened. “I'm not sure that you’re ready for the whole truth,” he said.

“Try me,” she growled. Something that might've been pride crossed his face.

“You are definitely Elena's daughter,” he said.

Angel didn't smile. “Start talking.”

Bishop looked at the leather ledger. “Your mother and Viper were already together when I met her.” Angel's stomach tightened. “I was state police, and was young, ambitious, and stupid enough to believe the badge meant everyone wearing one was a good man.”

“And was Robert Mercer a good man?” she asked.