Page 143 of Traitor

The words settle into my soul.

She leans back slightly. "I can't tell you what's right or wrong here, Temperance. But I can tell you this — you have a choice. You can keep chasing vengeance, keep bleeding yourself dry, or you can start figuring out what true healing might actually look like for you. It doesn't have to mean forgiving. It doesn't have to mean letting go. But it does mean deciding if you want your past to define the rest of your life."

My breath shudders out of me.

Dr. Monroe meets my eyes, holding me there. "So, tell me. What do you see your future looking like, Temperance? Regardless of revenge. Of hate. Regardless of Bones. Or Jinx."

I stare at her and I have no fucking idea what to say.

Therapy is a fucking struggle. Digging into my own mind is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It's been four days since my session with Dr. Monroe and exactly nine days since I last saw Bones.

And that... disturbs me.

Lately, he kept butting into my life even more, showing his face everywhere, making sure I see him. Never staying away for long. But now? Nothing. No smug grin. No stupid face.

He's still sending texts, though. Still leaving small gifts on my porch. But no sign of him.

I feel it deep inside me — the wrongness of it. Something is happening. And the fact that I don't knowwhatmakes my skin itch.

I sigh, gripping my coffee mug tighter. Ria has also been missing this whole week. She even closed Belladonna Brew temporarily. We've been talking on the phone and she keeps assuring me everything is fine, that she's "helping someone" and "it's not a big deal," but that's all I get.

Bullshit.

What the fuck is happening with everyone?

Layla left on a trip after the barbecue. But her, I understand. She needs space.

It's everyone else's shifty behavior that makes me suspicious as fuck.

Even the stupid bikers on watch duty have disappeared. I know they're still out there, shadowing my every move, but they've gone completely out of sight. Before, I could catch glimpses of them — Tank's hulking frame leaning against his bike, Ghost pretending to check his phone while blatantly keeping an eye on me. Now? Nothing.

Something is wrong.

I hate not knowing.

I'm lost in my thoughts, staring at the swirling steam from my coffee, when I hear it.

A knock at my door. Strong. Determined.

When I pull it open, I feel like I just summoned the fucking devil.

Bones stands there, broad and imposing, wearing a smirk that once made my stomach flip and now just makes my fingers twitch for a weapon.

"What the hell do you want?" I ask, alarms instantly blaring in my mind. Nine days of nothing and now he just shows up?

The bastard's smirk widens. Of course, it does. He drags his eyes over my entire body, and then he finally answers, his voice like silk.

"Hello, my fiery Temper. It's so fucking good to finally see you."

I cross my arms over my chest, my eyes narrowing into slits.

"No."

He smiles wide. "No, what? I didn't ask you for anything."

"Whatever it is, I'm not interested," I say, my voice dripping with boredom.

His smile doesn't waver. He leans closer, like he's about to tell me a secret, and asks in a whisper.

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