Page 205 of Traitor

I roll my eyes. "Shut up and wait here."

I run to my home office, open the drawer where I've been keeping his gift, and return with a sheet of paper. I hand it to him.

"It's a tattoo design," I say, suddenly feeling a little nervous. "Similar to mine. Just...manlier. So you don't lose any badass biker points." My fingers trace the ink on his throat. The mark of his guilt. The weight of his self-punishment. "It's time, Bones. Time to cover this. Turn something ugly into something beautiful. Just like you once told me."

He stares at the paper. His hands tremble slightly. And then he looks at me, haunted.

I can see the battle in his eyes. The words stuck in his throat.

I touch his face, smiling softly. "Step into our future with me, Bones. Leave the past where it belongs. Take the lesson with you, but don't let it keep you chained."

He exhales sharply, then cups my face, pulling me in again, holding me close like I might slip through his fingers. When he leans back, his forehead presses to mine. His voice is raw.

"I love you. I'll always love you." His lips brush mine, just a whisper of a kiss.

"And I'll step into our future with you."

Epilogue #1

Bones

She's pissed.

Full-on, nuclear, slamming-cabinet-doors pissed.

And fuck, it's adorable.

Whatever storm's been brewing in that head of hers has finally hit landfall. I've seen it coming for weeks — hell, months — but she didn't say a word. Not one. I know exactly what it's about. It's been flashing in her eyes in bright neon lights, but I didn't press. She'll say it when she's ready. Or she'll explode. Depends on what buttons I push first.

Right now, she's stalking around the kitchen like she's planning a war and pretending she's cooking. Spoiler: she's not. She's silently raging. Slamming drawers, rattling utensils, stabbing a poor bell pepper to death on the cutting board like it personally offended her.

It's coming. I can feel it.

And I'd be lying if I said I can't fucking wait for it. I didn't want to make the first move. Not this time. This time, I wanted it to come from her. I've seen how much more it meant when she was the one making that first step. Reconfirming her choice every time.

Living with her — waking up to her in my arms, kissing her shoulder before she stretches, breathing her in before I even open my eyes — it's everything. We moved in together over a year ago. I offered to build us something new, but she wanted to stay here. At least for a little while longer. And that's enough for me. I'd live in a tent if it meant falling asleep with her pressed against me. Hell, I wouldn't even need the tent. Just her.

I didn't force the move. She made the first call there, too. Sure, I might've nudged things along — I'm not a saint, after all — but in the end, it was her decision. I moved in so fast after she asked, it didn't even take me two hours. She didn't even realize what was happening until my clothes were already taking a quarter of her closet.

I can feel she's close to snapping, and I can't hold it in anymore.

I lean back in my chair, sip my beer, and say it like I've got no clue what's going on. "Something wrong, baby?"

She stops dead.

Hands on hips. Spins. Laser beam eyes on me.

"Baby?" she hisses. "That's all I am to you?Baby?"

Oh, shit. She's so fucking cute when she's furious. I try not to grin. I fail.

Swear to God, if looks could kill, I'd be a pile of ash on the floor right now.

I get up and pull her into my arms, even as she swats me once, half-heartedly, on the chest. She melts against me anyway. She always does. I kiss her — slow, deep — and when I pull back, I whisper, "You're my entire life, baby."

She steps back. Crosses her arms. Eyebrows raised to the heavens. "Your entire life, huh? Well, good for me, I guess! So I don't need to be your Ol’ Lady or your wife now, do I? Since I'm apparentlyyour entire life."

My smile stretches but it slips instantly.

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