Page 105 of Traitor

Ah, fuck. She's gonna kill him.

Joker, who clearly has no self-preservation instincts whatsoever, doesn't flee. No, the idiot keeps talking.

"Lei-Lei, no! Please, just calm down. What the hell are you saying — pregnant?"

Everyone is absolutely frozen.

Except Layla. She still swings.

Joker, as clueless as ever, keeps going. "No one is pregnant, Lei-Lei. It was a fucking mistake. Please." His voice breaks.

Layla finally stops. Chest heaving, eyes like fire, bat clutched so tight I swear she's going to break it in half.

A dead silence settles over the lot. Eyes shift from Layla to Joker. From Joker to Layla.

She finally turns to him. Still breathing heavy, voice like razor wire.

"You. Piece. Of. Human. Trash." Every word is spat with disgust.

Joker's eyes widen. He knows. We all know. This isn't just an explosion.

This is the end.

"Your whore came to me," Layla seethes. "Showed me a fucking picture. Naked. Beside you. The night you fucked her.”

“She's pregnant now, you fucking imbecile. You fucking waste of breath."

The world tilts. I swear Joker stops breathing.

She points the bat at him, a final judgment.

"I am done. So. Fucking. Done. Erase my name from your mind. I don't ever want to hear it from your cheating lips again. You make me sick."

Joker opens his mouth—

The bat flies.

He barely dodges it, stumbling out of its path like a man running from his executioner’s blade.

Layla spits on the ground in front of him.

Turns. Walks away. Gone, just like that.

Fuck.

I take off after her.

21. Invasion

Bones

Istand at the massive table in the meeting room, trying, and failing, to focus on the fucking documents the Romanos sent over. My mind is a wreck. The pain is a lingering, dull ache, spreading through my body like a disease that refuses to let go. Every muscle screams, every joint protests, every bruise throbs like a heartbeat. This is gonna be a long-ass recovery period. No pun intended.

It's been a few hours since the shitshow in our backyard. The brothers are still recovering, licking their wounds. I ordered them to get tested as soon as possible. I don't give a fuck that the women wiped down the paddles. How well can you really clean between those spikes? We might have lost our favorite bikes, but most of us had spares. That doesn't matter, though. None of it does. Not when she's still looking at me like she wants to set me on fire.

There’s a knock at the door and Pops strolls in.

"Boy, I predict you're gonna be dead in a month. At most."

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