Nefretiri
The ride back to Luke's was awful.
Ivan wouldn't look at me. He didn't say a word. There was no one spared from the pain. It hurt all of us, and it was all my fault. There was no way I could deny that, and it seemed Ivan wouldn't allow me to live it down.
Dylan was in the truck bed, muzzled and tied up. The worst part was that he wouldn't let anyone else near him. So I had to do it. He laid there and let me too. But, of course, he whined and whimpered the whole time.
Ivan was so angry at me that he got Luke to drive and remained in the front passenger. So, I sat in the back, glancing up at him and finding him always staring at the road. The fury he felt encircled him, and even our bond felt hot and cold. If he'd yell at me or say something, I'd feel better about it. This silence is burning me alive.
I'm not so proud to admit I know I fucked up.
