Page 1 of Traitor

Chapter One

February 2015

“It’s just a regular night out with the woman you love,” I muttered to myself as I sat on the lumpy mattress.

No matter how many times I said it, it still didn’t seem real. I watched her as she moved around the hotel bathroom effortlessly, brushing through her long red hair and dabbing perfume on her wrists.

Then I made the mistake of looking up and catching sight of myself in the large mirror above the desk.

Jesus Christ.

I looked like shit.

Worse than shit actually.

My hair was all over the fucking place and, at some point, I’d apparently decided to compete with the guys fromDuck Dynastywith my beard.

Something was caught in it too.

I stood up and walked the four steps over to the mirror and stiffened once I realized it was remnants from the blow I’d snorted an hour ago.

Fuck me.

I hurriedly brushed the white powder from my upper lip—she’d already warned me that I was on thin ice when I showed up forty-five minutes late. The last thing I needed was for her to realize I was sampling illicit drugs in my free time. My father had been right—a little blow really helped clear your conscience, which put my perspective back where it needed to be.

Once satisfied that my face was clear, I gripped my tie unsteadily between both hands.

“C’mon, Mikey. Get your shit together,” I hissed at my swaying reflection.

She began humming from the bathroom and the vibrations went right to my cock. I looked up and caught sight of her backside as she did beauty shit to her face.

I should’ve been focused on tightening my tie, but every glimpse of her in the mirror had my eyes wandering off task. I walked over and stood in the bathroom doorway.

She caught me watching and winked, a blush rising from her chest up into her cheeks. She couldn’t hide her emotions; her pale skin would always give her away.

She was beautiful.

I should think so.

After all, she was my wife.

“Are we good to go, Slick?” She asked from across the room as she stepped into her heels and I nodded, as if really seeing her for the first time.

“Ready if you are, Cam.”

What the fuck was I doing?

I’d asked myself that same question about a hundred times since stepping off the elevator. It was the question I’d avoided answering for over a month. Nothing good would’ve come from it anyway.

What was done was done and I had to learn to live with the consequences of my actions—which I was doing. I drowned myself in a bottle of tequila and, when that didn’t do the trick, I snorted a few lines until the slate was clear.

Fuck, I was a success story here.

“You nervous?” Cam turned to me on the elevator ride down, fidgeting with her black dress.

I paused for a moment to fully take her in. Goddamn, she was beautiful—I mean, her tits weren’t anything to write home about and she acted more like one of the guys, but she was mine.

She was no Lauren…

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