Page 3 of Traitor

They must know this is wrong.

And none of them do a goddamn thing.

Tank and Joker shove me forward. My feet drag against the worn wooden floorboards.

Each step toward the basement feels like a death march.

Bones doesn't follow.

He doesn't have to.

He's already sentenced me.

The heavy metal door of my cell clangs shut behind me, the lock snapping into place.

I stumble forward, falling to my knees, my palms scraping against the rough concrete.

It smells like sweat, mold, and blood down here. Like suffering.

I press my back against the wall, my breath ragged, my chest heaving. My arm burns, but it's nothing compared to the ache in my soul.

I slide down to the floor, curling my knees to my chest.

Eight months. Eight months in this club. Eight months of falling for a man who threw me to the fucking wolves.

He's going to send me back to the Crimson Riders.

I just know it. I can feel it.

My stomach churns. Jinx is waiting for me.

Bones doesn't know what that means. Because he wouldn't fucking listen to me.

But even if he did, he wouldn't care.

Hours pass. It could be days for all I know. The cell has no windows, no clocks, no sense of time. I slip in and out of exhausted, hollow silence, my mind replaying every moment leading up to this.

I never told them about the Crimson Riders. About Jinx.

Never told them how I ran from him. How he destroyed me for years, piece by piece.

I thought I was safe.

I was so fucking wrong.

The door creaks open and I flinch, heart hammering against my ribs.

Bones steps inside. Alone.

For a single second, hope flares in my chest. Maybe he's here to apologize. Maybe he believes me now.

Then I see his face.

Cold. Empty. Merciless.

He crouches in front of me, grabbing my jaw in his hand, forcing me to look at him.

"You're done here, Ely," he says. "I never want to see your face again."

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