Page 132 of Traitor

He's everything.

I wake up late, that dream — that memory — echoing inside my head. For the first time since Bones came back into my life, I feel like crying. For all the lost moments. For all the lost memories.

For all the lost love between us.

25. Belladonna

Bones

Istudy the man in front of me, his entire body shaking like he's standing in a fucking blizzard. The piss stain spreading across his cheap dark blue suit does nothing to inspire confidence. At first glance, he looks like a middle aged car salesman who got lost on his way to work. His whole presence screams ordinary, but it's the shoes that really fuck with my head.

Crocs. FuckingCrocs.

I narrow my eyes. Really? Crocs? This asshole was lurking outside Temper's house like a goddamn creep. In Crocs! I can smell trouble from a mile away, and this fucker reeks of it. But not in the usual way. Not in the way of men who know how to hide their sins. This one wears his madness like a medal. Proud. Self-righteous. Diseased.

"Are you a nurse by any chance?" I ask, keeping my tone conversational.

"Wh-what?" he stammers, wide eyes darting between me and the door like he has a prayer of getting out of here alive.

"The Crocs," I motion to his feet with my head. "Not exactly the choice of footwear for a man on a mission."

His lips tremble. "I just... They're comfortable. Other shoes hurt my feet," he mutters weakly.

I sigh. There'snoexcuse.

Ghost leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching everything unfold with that blank, dead-eyed expression he's perfected over the last thirteen years. I don't even know if he's capable of feeling anything anymore, not in a way that normal men do.

I need to make this quick. Find out what I need, then deal with him. The fucker tied to the chair doesn't look like a threat, but something about him sets my instincts on fire. He wasn't just wandering around Silverpine for fun. He was watching Temper's house. Twice.

After the first time, I sent Joker to follow him. He did nothing unusual, drove around, went back to his motel, ate a fucking burger like a normal tourist. But the second time he drove by Temper's house? He had binoculars.

That's when I knew. That's when I ambushed him and dragged his ass to The Fun House.

Former wine cellar. Current state-of-the-art torture chamber.

Luxury clubhouse, luxury interrogation room. We're moving up in the world.

I tilt my head at him, voice dropping into a quiet threat.

"Why were you watching the house with the yellow fence?"

He licks his lips, eyes darting toward the tools laid out on the table near the wall. He knows what's coming.

"I was just... looking for someone," he finally croaks out. His voice is small. Scared. Good. He should be scared.

I raise a brow. "Really? Who?"

He hesitates. He can feel the noose tightening around his neck.

I start walking toward the tools. Slowly. Giving time to his fear to really wrap around his spine.

"A... a woman." He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing like a fish caught on a hook. "Blonde. Short. Very short. Blue eyes. Curly hair. A few extra pounds. Her name is Evangeline. Bu-but she might go by another name now..." His voice trails into a whisper.

Fuck.

That sounds like someone I know.

"What do you want with the woman?" I ask, still pretending to inspect the table, even though my blood is already singing for violence.

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