"What did you do?" My voice is barely a whisper, but it shakes.
His eyes soften, something raw and broken bleeding into them.
"You couldn't slash my throat, so I did it for you," he murmurs. "Because I deserve it. Because I was the real traitor that night. I betrayed you, the only woman that will ever hold my heart and soul. Out of fear, out of anger, it doesn't even matter anymore. I deserve this brand. I deserve it to be seen by everyone."
His thumb drags softly over my lower lip.
"Temper," he breathes, his voice ruined.
I can't move.
He lowers his head, pressing a single, chaste kiss to my forehead.
Before I can react, before I can pull away, before I can make sense of the chaos inside me, he drops his hand from my neck and takes a step back.
"Hurt me however much you want, Temper," he looks sadly at me. "My body, my soul, my heart are yours. I'll take all the pain and hurt for just the chance to look at you."
And then he turns and walks away. Just like that. Leaving me with a storm inside my soul.
I stand there, pulse thudding in my ears, something breaking inside my chest.
At some point, Griffin comes to me and touches my arm, cautious. I barely register it.
"Can we just watch Criminal Minds tonight?" I murmur, my voice a whisper.
His brows furrow, but he nods. "Sure, beautiful. Whatever you need."
The taxi ride home is silent. My mind is anything but.
Bones
I stand on the side of the road, swallowed by darkness, watching as the last light in her house flickers out. She took him home.
An agonizing, brutal ache slams into my chest, carving deep, splitting me open from the inside out. I swear I hear it — my heart actually cracking.
It feels like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I claw my way forward, I can't fucking reach her. She keeps slipping through my fingers, just out of grasp, just far enough to remind me how much I lost.
But I won't back down. Not now. Not ever.
Temper
The next morning, I wake up feeling fucking fantastic.
So what if Bones tattooed his goddamn neck in some twisted, misguided attempt at redemption? That's his problem, not mine. Sure, I won't lie, it does make me feel good. Real damn good.
Knowing he's walking around with a brand as bold and damning as the one he forced onto me. Knowing that every single person who lays eyes on him will see it, see his sin carved into his skin. A permanent reminder of the betrayal he can never outrun.
I spend the entire week with excitement dancing through my veins. Because I have things to look forward to.
By Friday, the package I ordered arrives. With all the little tools and trinkets I plan on using. God bless Ria and her thriving BDSM obsession. Truly, she's a gift. She was the inspiration behind this entire idea.
By the time she swings by to pick me up, I'm buzzing.
The anticipation thrums beneath my skin, a live wire, an electric hum that refuses to quiet. I wonder if Ghost and the brothers actually listened to my instructions. If they took me seriously.
Something tells me they did.
We pull up to the new Iron Vultures MC clubhouse, and the second I lay eyes on the place, I nearly choke on my own surprise.