Page 175 of Traitor

"So, I've been meaning to ask you..." He leans back in his chair, eyes glinting with amusement. "Why did you choose this name, Temper? I mean, I can figure out the Bones connection, but still... it seems a strange choice. Risky, too."

I pause, a small smile pulling at my lips. Remembering. I can laugh about it now, not so much just a few months ago.

"Out of anger," I admit. "There was this whisper in my mind, telling me to make sure I never forget. To find a way to always remember, to keep the anger burning." I shake my head on a quiet laugh. "And also, as a'fuck you'to you." My smile softens. "But I've come to love this name. It's become a part of me."

We finish eating, the conversation easy, small talk filling the spaces between us. It's comfortable. Familiar.

It makes me remember us.

The way we used to be. The way we flowed together, always in sync, almost like we were reading each other's minds.

"Do you want to take our drinks to the back porch? It's cold, but I have heater lamps. And the mountain air is amazing right now," I ask after we finish dinner, my voice casual.

He smirks, something wicked flashing in his eyes. "Sure. I can handle the cold."

I narrow my eyes at him, suspicious, but grab my glass and step outside. I hear his boots behind me, following.

The air is crisp, the night silent except for the distant rustling of trees. Out here, in the stillness, everything feels heavier. More real.

We settle onto the bench, side by side. I grab one of the thick blankets I keep out here for warmth and hold it out to him.

"I'm good, baby." His voice is deep, amused, but his eyes stay trained on the darkness ahead. Then, teasing, mocking, he speaks.

"So... there was this thief in my room." He pauses like he's thinking real hard, his brows pinched together. "And she stole something. A cut. Do you happen to know if it ended up shredded or burned? I just keep wondering..."

I purse my lips, eyebrows shooting all the way up, feigning outrage. "Really? A thief? In your room? That's a serious security breach for the clubhouse, Bones. You should look into it." I take a slow sip of wine, barely managing to suppress my smirk.

His laughter rumbles low in his chest before his arm snakes around my shoulders, pulling me into him. I don't fight it. It's warm. Safe. A little too right. Or maybe I'm just cold, and his body heat is the logical choice. Yeah, that's it. A little white lie never hurt anyone.

We sit like that for a while, comfortable silence stretching between us. But, as always, my curiosity wins.

I clear my throat. "Bones." I turn to him, meeting his eyes. "How did you get Jinx? I need to fucking know. It's been driving me insane."

His lips curve slightly, something dark playing in his expression. "It was planned from the start. In case he didn't get the death sentence." He exhales, glancing up at the night sky, gathering his thoughts. "I didn't want him to live, so I planned for his eventual death. He got the death sentence at his first trial, so the plan got put on the back burner. But since he still had the right to appeal, I kept it in motion, waiting for the moment the system fucked up." He looks back at me. "It wasn't a surprise when it did."

I keep my eyes locked on him, hanging onto every word.

"I dug up info on the warden at his prison. Lucky me, the fucker had a gambling problem. I buried him in so much debt at one of our rings he wouldn't be able to pay it off in a hundred lifetimes. He knew he was owned. Kept him like that all these years, waiting to call in the debt. And when Jinx got his retrial? That was the moment."

He leans back, stretching his legs out like he's telling a casual fucking bedtime story.

"We had an inmate — lifer — go at him inside. Beat the shit out of him. Just enough. The guy's family got a hefty sum, of course. And all the warden had to do next was make sure Jinx was taken to the hospital instead of treated in-house. Easier access, fewer cameras, more doors. Ghost and Mindfuck handled the extraction." He shrugs. Like it was nothing. Like it was just business as usual. "And that's that."

I stare at him. Blink once. Twice.

"Your mind is fucking terrifying." My voice is flat. Why is this so fucking hot?

He smirks. That goddamn smirk. "Baby, you're the one who gave meThe Art of Warand insisted I read it. This is your fault."

I bark out a laugh, shaking my head. "I should have known you'd take that shit too seriously."

He pulls me closer, and I don't move away.

I check myself. Check my feelings.

Dr. Monroe told me to do that. To listen to what I feel, not what I fear. She said I have control over my actions, but if I decide to take a step toward Bones, I need to check myself for any negative feelings around him. To make sure I don't lose all the progress I've made.

I reach inside myself. Look for the anger. The resentment.

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