Veronica
They ask questions. Too many, too uncomfortable questions. Questions I don’t want to answer. They ask how I got out of the car and I don’t have an answer to this one. It is Luca who tells them he took me out when he saw me. He repeats to them exactly what I asked him to say, and it is too hard to ignore the warmth I feel inside my chest when he does it. It manages to chase away some of the memories of darkness and doom.
Somehow I don’t feel the pain, the confusion, the fear, the darkness that come with death. All my senses are dulled, narrowed to the thick scent of the man I am cursed to call my mate. His shirt is on me, but it is like he is glued to me like a second skin. All I breathe and think, and see, is Luca Moretti and I am unable to focus on anything else that is happe
