Page 198 of Traitor

"Ohhh..." I chew on my lip, thinking. "Speaking of names..." I hesitate before tilting my head back to look at him. "How come no one, except your parents and Ghost, knows your legal name? That doesn't make sense. I don't understand how I didn't see it before, but you grew up in the club. How the hell would they not know?"

His smirk is pure amusement. "Because Mama is a vengeful creature who can hold a grudge like no other." He chuckles lowly, shaking his head. "When she was pregnant with me, the brothers kept throwing out name suggestions. Their own names, of course. They wouldn't shut the fuck up about it, and it pissed her off to no end. So she made Pops swear to keep my name a secret just to spite them. Until I got my road name, they called me 'kid' or 'boy' or 'son' in front of the club. By the time Mama's grudge went away I was already grown and it felt like something that belonged only to the people closest to me."

I raise a brow. "That's... actually kind of badass. I should've known your mom was behind it."

His smirk widens. "Oh, Mama plays the long game, baby. She always wins."

I run my fingers lightly over his chest, following the inked lines of his tattoos. "You were young when Pops left you in charge, weren't you?"

He nods. "Too young, by traditional MC standards. But Pops was fed up with the politics. He wanted more time with Mama. So he put me through hell to make sure I was ready. I had to prove myself, earn it, then stand for a vote. And that was that."

I sigh softly, pressing my palm over his heart. "You were lucky. To have Mama and Pops. And Ghost."

His grip tightens, pulling me even closer. "Yeah. I had a good childhood. But following Pops and the brothers around made sure Ghost and I turned into killers early on." He shrugs, completely unbothered. "Or maybe we were just born like that. Who the fuck knows."

Then he tilts my chin up, forcing my gaze to his. His expression is serious, weighted with meaning.

"All these people... they're yours too, Temper. If you ever decide to take them back. It's your choice. No pressure. No expectations. But I want you to know — you have that option. Always."

I search his face, feeling the truth in his words.

I stretch up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I know."

And I do. I just need to take it one day at a time.

35. Slick

Bones

Ipull into the turnout, kill the engine, and wait. Two hours from town, deep in the mountains, nothing but stone walls on one side and a sheer drop on the other. The air is thick with silence, the kind that swallows sound before it even has a chance to echo. At this time of night, this place feels cursed. A stretch of forgotten road.

I tighten my grip on my gun, anticipation thrumming in my veins. Three days. Three fucking days of this asshole tailing me, staying just far enough that I couldn't pin him down. I haven't been able to go to Temper because of this fucker. Let's see what he does now that he has my full attention.

I don't have to wait long.

Less than ten minutes later, the low growl of a bike cuts through the silence. Headlights sweep across me as he pulls in, stopping right in front of my ride. Before his boots even hit the ground, my gun is up, aimed right at his head.

He removes his muzzle slowly, like he's savoring the moment. When he finally looks at me, I clock the yellow-gold glint in his eyes. This asshole is uncanny as fuck.

Then the bastard smirks.

"You can put the gun down, jefe." His voice is deep, smooth, laced with amusement. "I think you already know I'm not here to attack you. I let you see me for the past two days, after all. Been waiting for this meeting."

I don't lower the gun. "You've been following me for three days, not two, fucker."

His expression shifts — first surprise, then something close to appreciation. "Shit, jefe." He whistles low. "You really are as good as they say. I had some doubts. That maybe the legend was bigger than the man."

He grins, too fucking relaxed for someone with a gun pointed at his skull. I don't speak. Just watch. He's trying to bait a reaction out of me, see where my patience snaps.

After a beat, he sighs. "I'm not here to cause trouble, jefe. On the contrary. I'm here to help. And maybe I'll get some help in return." His eyes gleam in the headlights. "How's your VP? Still alive?"

"None of your fucking business." My voice is flat. Final.

He tilts his head, glancing briefly at the sky before locking eyes with me again. "I take it he is. Tough guy, that one. Took out thirteen men from Los Verdugos." He pauses, watching me closely. "Of course, the cartel doesn't know it was him. Not yet."

I let the silence fall, waiting him out. He's not here to make threats about Ghost and his hunting missions. He's not that stupid. No, this fucker has something else on his mind. And I'm proven right when he speaks again.

"But they know about the girl, jefe."

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