Page 41 of Traitor

He hesitates. Then, with a quiet sigh, he delivers the words that crack something deep inside me.

"He ordered me to go back to the clubhouse."

The world stops. Everything inside me shatters. I already knew it. Deep down, I knew. But hearing it? Hearing the man I loved, the man I gave everything to, decide I wasn't even worth saving? It breaks me.

A sob rises up, but I swallow it down, locking it behind my teeth, behind the agony threatening to rip me apart. Tank curses again, but this time, there's something raw in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Ely."

I nod. What else is there to say? I close my eyes, letting the pain take me under again, drowning in it, hoping I never wake up.

8. Abandoned

Bones

The whiskey burns on the way down, but it's not enough.

I sit at my desk, the almost-empty bottle right in front of me. I stare at it, my fingers drumming impatiently against the wood, trying to drown out the noise in my head. The echo of Tank's voice. The sharp, bitter edges of his words.She almost didn't make it.

I shouldn't have answered that call.

I should've let it go to voicemail, should've fucking ignored it. But I picked up. I listened. And now my chest feels like someone has taken a blade to it and twisted.

Ely is alive.

I told myself I wouldn't give a damn if she wasn't. But even now, while battling with my own thoughts and the weight of my choices pressing down on me, I know I'm full of shit.

I care.

I fucking care.

And it's killing me.

I wish I wasn’t. I wish I could just turn it off. But I can’t, no matter how much I drink, no matter how much I lie to myself or others.

The phone vibrates against the desk again, breaking the silence. I let it ring a few times, give myself a few seconds to tame the wild pain inside my heart before I answer. "What?"

Tank exhales hard on the other end, frustration thick in his voice. "She's awake."

I close my eyes, my jaw tightening. I see her in my mind, blinking against the bright hospital lights, wrapped in gauze, her body weak, broken. I see the moment she realizes she's alone, the moment it sinks in that no one is coming for her.

Good.

She deserves to feel that.

She lied. She betrayed me. She played me for a fool, let me take her into my bed, let me make her mine, all while keeping dangerous fucking secrets. And now she's paying for it.

"You should've left her at the hospital and be back at the clubhouse by now," I say, my voice even, controlled.

Tank lets out a harsh laugh. "Yeah? And you should've fucking killed her yourself if you really meant it."

There he goes again, that accusation. Something dark and cold slithers through my veins. I keep my grip on the phone steady, keep my voice flat. "Come up with something new to throw around. I gave her to the Riders. That was enough."

"Was it?" Tank's voice is sharp now, cutting through the phone like a blade. "Because I don't think you believe that."

I don't answer.

Because what the fuck am I supposed to say?

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