Page 5 of Traitor

Bones grips my chin one last time, forcing my bleeding, broken face to look up at him.

"Be happy I didn't kill you. That is the true fate of traitors," he murmurs.

And then he turns his eyes away.

Like I disgust him.

Like he never loved me at all.

1. Haunted

Ely

The darkness is alive down here, in the Iron Vultures' basement.

It breathes. Shifts. Moves with the silence, coiling around me like a snake, pressing its weight against my chest. The air is suffocating, muggy with the scent of mold and old blood, and even though the walls don't touch me, I feel trapped, like the room is shrinking, slowly crushing me from the inside out.

A rat scurries across the concrete floor, its tiny claws clicking against it. I don't flinch. I don't move at all.

I don't have the strength anymore.

I press my forehead to my knees, my breath coming in slow, shaky pulls. My throat is raw, my head throbbing. Everything hurts. My ribs ache, my arms are stiff from how hard I fought them, my head and face are a mess and my skin, where they marked me, burns like it's still being branded.

TRAITOR.

I can't look at it again.

I curl my fingers into my palm, clenching my fists until my nails bite into my skin. I squeeze my eyes shut. Try to focus on breathing. Try to push down the panic clawing at my chest.

It doesn't work.

Eight years ago

I was fifteen the first time I stepped into an MC clubhouse.

Back then, I thought it was the most exciting place in the world.

I'd grown up with nothing. Shitty foster homes, bouncing between families that only kept me for the check, hungry more often than not. So when I met Lucas, the nineteen year old son of one of the Crimson Riders, I latched onto him like a lifeline. He had freedom, a family that called him brother, a father that let him drink beer since he was sixteen and drive motorcycles at high-speed.

I wanted to belong to something like that.

And I thought I did.

The first time I walked into the Crimson Riders' clubhouse, the music was loud and cigarette smoke blurred my vision. Men in leather cuts laughed at the bar, women draped over their laps, neon lights flickering on the walls. It was chaos. It was wild. It was everything I ever wanted.

Lucas grinned at me as he led me through the mess.

"You like it?" he asked.

I nodded. My heart was happy, trembling with excitement. A little fearful, too, but I ignored that. I shouldn’t have.

"It's home," he said.

I wanted to believe him. And I did. Because a place to call home and a family was the only wish I ever had.

Present

Stupid girl.

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