Page 163 of Traitor

I snort. "So do I, fucker. So do I."

I leave him chuckling behind me.

Temper

The clubhouse looms before me, blanketed in snow, looking almost like something out of a damn fairytale. If fairytales had blood-stained floors and men who could break your heart and your bones in the same breath.

Why do I feel excited? But also anxious?

I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to steady the trembling in my hands. My heart is a hammer against my ribs. This is it. This is fucking it. If I walk through those doors, if I let myself take this step, I know —I know— Bones will never leave me alone again.

He'll take the scrap I'm about to throw at him and latch onto it like a lifeline. Like a starved animal with its teeth buried deep in raw flesh. He won't let go.

I gulp. Fuck. I want to do this. I took my time, thought it through. It's been two months. Two months since that night. Two months since I ripped my own demons apart, since I stood over Jinx's lifeless body and took my fucking justice. Since Bones held me like he wished he could absorb every ounce of my pain and make it his own.

The anger is gone. Drained out of me that day. Some days, I feel it flicker, but it never lasts. It sparks and dies before it can take hold. I've been working through it. Therapy with Dr. Monroe twice a week, digging into the wounds I never let myself acknowledge. The rage? It was a mask for grief. For loss. For everything I never let myself feel. Of course, she doesn't know about the murder I committed. But she praised me for the metaphorical funeral.

I went through my deep sadness phase. I let it consume me. Let it drag me down until there was nothing left but the hollow ache of what I lost. Mourning myself was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I did it. Grief is a bitch, and it doesn't let go until it's done with you. But in the end, I had to face the truth — no amount of revenge, no amount of spilled blood, will ever rewrite what happened to me. I had no control then, and I can't go back and stop it now. But I can stop letting the past own me. I can tear down the emotional cage I built around myself and see what's left on the other side.

And now that the anger is gone, something else is haunting me.

Him.

Thoughts of him won't leave me the fuck alone. His hands. His voice. His eyes. Something inside me keeps whispering,look again. Be sure. Be certain.That I might lose something precious if I don't.

That's why I'm here. A test. THE test. One I forced upon myself.

If I still want to throw a brick at his skull the moment I lay my eyes on him, then I turn around and walk away. Simple. But even as I think it, my heart squeezes at the thought. Fuck!

I exhale sharply, gripping the steering wheel. I asked Dr. Monroe what the fuck I was supposed to do with these feelings, with this pull in my chest. She didn't give me a straight answer. Just kept saying that I have control over my own life, my own choices, that the decision only belongs to me.

Which is true. But still... bitch.

I've been trying to come here every day for a week. Every fucking day. Drove halfway, turned back. Over and over. Like a fucking coward. Twice a day some days! It was getting ridiculous!

Last night I didn't sleep at all, kept thinking about it and finally I couldn't take it anymore and started my journey — for about the hundredth time this week! Blasted System of a Down at full volume all the way here to drown out my stupid thoughts and fear and finally made it. Fucking thank you, Serj! I owe you one!

I huff, blow out a breath, and shove open the car door before I can second-guess myself. Not a fucking coward. If I see him and I still want to punch him, then I punch him and I leave. Not a big deal.

"I was wondering when you'd finally come out. Thought it'd be at least another ten minutes."

I jump about ten fucking feet in the air.

I spin around, glaring. "You fucking scared me, Joker! What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grins, raising his hands like he's innocent. "Hey, I thought you saw me. Wasn't trying to scare you."

I cross my arms, still glaring. "What the hell are you doing outside this early? It's—" I glance at my phone. "Eight in the morning. You usually sleep till at least ten."

His face shifts. Quieter. "We have a doctor's appointment. For the baby."

"Oh." I purse my lips. "Good luck with that."

He nods. "Thanks." Then his eyes narrow slightly. "Now, what are you doing here? Didn't think you'd ever come back. Haven't seen you in months. What did Bones do? Should I be worried for him?"

"Umm... no, no need to worry." I fidget with my phone, my throat suddenly tight. "I just need to talk to him about something. Is he in his office?"

Joker shakes his head. "No, he had to go out of town. But he'll be back soon. In like an hour or so. Tank talked to him this morning. You can go in and wait, if you have time. Everyone's out on business, but Tank and Domino are inside."

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