Page 85 of Traitor

Two days of starvation, dehydration, and pain have worn me thin. But she survived four. I'll do the same.

I have to.

She tilts her head, considering. Plotting.

"Tell me, Kane," she says, voice syrupy sweet, dripping poison.

"If you insist on moving your club here, do you think it would be my right to take my vengeance on your brothers?"

My body locks up.

Her smile doesn't waver. Not even a flicker.

"The ones who stood by that night," she continues, "and watched you drag me to that tattoo chair? Watched you throw me in the basement? The ones who watched you give me away?"

Her head tilts the other way. Amused. Curious.

"Seems like you're ready to do anything for my forgiveness. Would you give me the chance to punish your precious brothers?"

I don't hesitate. Not for a second.

"I would."

Something flickers in her expression — surprise.

"I wouldn't force them," I continue, voice gravel and blood. "But I know at least Ghost, Tank, and Joker would do what it takes."

"Oh," she breathes, eyes gleaming with excitement.

She twirls the stick again, slower this time. Thinking. Pondering.

"Well," she hums, "I guess we'll see what happens after this."

And then, she swings.

The stick whips through the air, cutting with a sharp whoosh.

Fuck.

This is going to hurt like a bitch.

18. Surrender

Day three

Bones

Ifeel like death warmed over.

My shoulder is barely hanging on, every joint screaming, every muscle stretched past its limit. If it's not dislocated by the end of this, it'll be a fucking miracle.

And the hunger. Fuck, the hunger is the worst.

It's like something is gnawing at my insides, eating me from the inside out, clawing at my ribs, chewing its way through my gut.

The pain of my wounds? Distant. Fading. I don't even feel it anymore. Not the open gashes, not the raw flesh, not the deep, searing cuts she carved into me with a goddamn scalpel.

Temper got creative today. She turned my skin into a map of open wounds and future scars. Every line, every gash, etched into me like a signature. I welcome it. Because I can't think about my pain. Not when the only thing filling my mind is her.

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