Page 117 of Traitor

"I thought I was stronger than this. For years, I built myself back up, brick by brick. Smarter. Tougher. Stronger. Only to fall apart at the mention of his name. At the very unlikely possibility that he might get free." I exhale slowly. "I didn't break when I found myself face to face with you again. I didn't break when I did to your body exactly what that monster did to mine."

"I didn't break when I stood before all your brothers, the ones I once called family, and watched them bow their heads in guilt. But I broke today."

He leans forward, eyes burning. "You are stronger than him, Temper. Stronger than me. Stronger than anyone I've ever known. And he won't be alive for long. I promised you I'd take care of him. There's already a plan in motion."

"What plan?" My eyes snap to his.

He exhales. "It's better if you don't know the details. But think about this: if you got the chance to take your revenge on him, would you? It would mean you'd have to face him. Don't answer now. Think about it, there's still time. And when you decide, tell me. If you want your shot at him, I'll make it happen."

I grit my teeth.

"I don't have to think about it, Bones. I'd rip that fucker apart. Make him taste hell like he did to me."

He studies my face, searching for something. Finally, he nods. "So be it. I'll let you know when the time comes."

He looks into the distance, seeming to contemplate something.

I can see the tattoo on his neck. His self-inflicted punishment, carved into his flesh like a confession. I tried to erase it from my mind these past few months, push it into the recesses of my thoughts, ignore it. But right now, staring at it, I realize it never really left me. It lingers, just like the pain he branded onto my soul.

My fingers move before I can stop them, tracing the ink.

His muscles lock up, his breath hitching.

"Why did you come that night at the club? All those months ago?" I ask softly.

His Adam's apple bobs. "I heard Mama and Layla talking about some handsome fucker taking you out to dance." His voice is quiet. Raw. "I just... I don't know. I couldn't think. I just needed to see you."

"You're so stupid," I murmur. "Especially for doing this." My finger runs along the bold black letters. "Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the view. It's only fair after all. But you didn't have to do it. If you were smart, you wouldn't have gotten this brand, and you definitely wouldn't have moved here." I drop my hand and meet his eyes.

"I'm never coming back to you, Bones. You need to accept that. There's too much bad history between us. Too much betrayal. Too much pain."

He leans in, his forehead pressing against mine.

"I don't believe that," he breathes. "That there's no chance. I can't. Things are fucked up, because of me. But I don't believe everything is lost. My heart still only beats when I'm near you. I still only feel alive when I look into your eyes. Without you? There's nothing. No light. No warmth. No fucking reason to breathe. Only pain. Nothing else. I've lived it for four years and even hell would be better. I'm yours, my fiery Temper. I'll always be yours. No matter how much you make me bleed, the only thing that would stop me from coming after you would be death."

His lips curl into a small smirk. "And not even that. I'd find a way to glue my ghostly ass to you and haunt you forever."

Despite myself, a laugh escapes. "You've officially entered full stalker mode."

He leans back slightly. "Baby, you don't even know the half of it."

I frown. "What the hell does that mean? What did you do?"

He raises his hands, mock innocence. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Liar.

I narrow my eyes. "You may be stubborn and determined, Bones, but that doesn't mean reality isn't what it is. Even now, I feel it rising inside me, more and more each day. The need to make you bleed. To watch your pain. I thought I got it out of my system, but it's been crawling back for months. It's never enough. Not enough justice. Not enough retribution."

I lean in, letting him see the hunger in my eyes. "Right now, looking at you, I'd love nothing more than to grab a knife and see your blood drip."

He smiles. Smiles.

"You can do that, my fiery Temper," he murmurs. "You can always make me bleed. But only if it ends with me inside you from now on. I'm upping the stakes, baby. You want to see me bleed? Be ready to give something in return. I'll feed the beast inside of you."

My jaw drops.

This fucker.

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