Page 21 of Traitor

Because what if he looks at me differently afterward?

What if he sees what they did to me, what I let happen, and decides I'm unworthy of this?

Of him?

The idea is unbearable. Bones is the only man who has ever made me feel whole. He looks at me like I matter, like I'm more than just something to be used, something to be taken and discarded. He treats me like I'm his equal, like I'm precious.

But if he knew?

If he knew the truth, the whole truth?

Would he still want me?

Or would he start seeing me the way I see myself? Dirty, broken, ruined?

I tighten my grip on the glass, my pulse hammering.

I should tell him. I should be honest. But I want to be selfish.

Just for a little while longer.

I want to keep these moments. His arms around me, his lips on my skin, the way he pulls me into his bed like I always belonged there, the way he whispers my name like it's something sacred.

I don't want to see his love turn into pity.

I don't want to see disgust.

I don't want to see the moment he realizes I'm not the kind of woman a man like him should want.

I glance toward him again, my heart swelling when I meet his gaze. The tension in his shoulders eases just slightly, and he tips his chin at me, a silent question.

‘You good, baby?’

I nod, offering him a small smile.

He smiles back.

I love him.

Tisha slides onto a barstool, a slow, knowing smirk curling her lips.

I don't like her.

Not because she's a club girl. I knew what that meant when I started working here. Not because she's flirty, bold, and shameless. That's expected.

It's the way she looks at me.

Like she's waiting for something to break.

She leans forward, her nails tapping against the bar. "You look real comfortable here, Elyna."

I keep my expression neutral. "This is my home."

Her smirk widens. "Yeah? Were the Crimson Riders your home, too?"

The rag in my hand stills.

My blood turns to ice.

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