The Burning
“I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”
I glared at him, but the gag in my mouth muffled any response. Luther chuckled and reached out, yanking the gag away with a rough tug. I spat out the dust and blood that had gathered in my mouth, trying to force the words that were boiling inside me not to explode out too quickly.
“Go to hell, Luther,” I spat, my voice hoarse.
He chuckled again, like I’d just told him a joke. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been living in hell for a long time. But I’ve learned to enjoy it.”
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