Page 67 of Monster Mania

Crow's voice softened. “He was trying to protect you.”

Angel laughed, but there was nothing amusing about it. “I'm starting to fucking hate that word.” Ghost understood why. Every man in her life had apparently lied to her in the name of protection—her father, Shadow, Crow, and now Ghost was standing there wanting to wrap her in bubble wrap, lock her inside Monster's clubhouse, and murder anyone who got within fifty feet of her. Maybe he needed to learn something from that.

Angel swiped her tears away angrily. “Why bury her there?”

“The club couldn't know she was dead,” Crow admitted.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because the ledger was already missing.” Razor shifted, but so did Monster. Crow continued. “Whoever killed Elena wanted those records.”

“Did they get them?” she asked.

“No,” Crow said.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Because people kept looking for them,” he said.

Angel looked toward Razor. “For twenty years?” she asked. Razor's smile disappeared. It was twenty years between her mother's and father’s deaths. Ghost filed that away because this shit had started long before Viper died. Long before Shadow died, and Angel ran.

“What happened after Elena died?” Ghost asked.

Angel glanced at him, but Crow answered. “Viper lost his fucking mind.”

“In what way?” Ghost asked.

“He wanted blood,” Crow said.

“Did he know who killed her?” Hammer asked.

“No,” Crow said. Razor laughed, and Crow looked at him. “What are you fucking laughing about now?”

“Nothing,” Crow lied.

Ghost stepped toward Razor. “Something funny?”

“No,” Crow said.

“Then why'd you laugh?” Ghost asked. Razor said nothing, and Ghost grabbed the front of his cut. “Hammer,” Ghost said, and Jackhammer moved beside Angel. Ghost pulled Razor closer. “You know who killed Elena.”

Razor smiled. “I know lots of things.” Ghost punched him in the stomach, and Razor doubled over.

Ghost held him up. “Try again.”

“Ghost,” Monster warned.

“One more,” Ghost growled.

Monster sighed. “One.” Ghost drove his fist into Razor's ribs, and he grunted.

“That's one.” Ghost said before he released him. Razor dropped to his knees, and Angel watched without saying a word. Ghost wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.

Razor coughed and then laughed again. “You're wasting your time.”

“Probably,” Ghost said. “Still enjoyed it.”

Razor looked at Angel. “Your mother was a problem.” Angel went still, and Ghost's hand moved toward his weapon. Razor saw it. “I didn't kill her.”