Breshia suddenly had something very real to live for, and now here she was, bumping around in Dillon’s passenger seat on the way to her death. Her timing sucked. She was pretty sure the Fates were smoking joints and sitting around laughing at their crystal ball. Dillon was silent and eerily still the entire ten minute drive. And with every minute that brought them closer, the air in the truck grew thicker and thicker until she could hardly breathe. “I lied to you,” he said, shattering the silence. Dread filled her, and she clenched her hands until her nails dug into her palms. “Okay. About what?” “I know what is going to happen tonight. At least part of it.” He ghosted a glance her way, then back to the road passing under the high beams. “I disobeyed a direct order, and I’ll be punished for it. I just didn’t want you going into this not knowing what to expect. You have to let it happen, Bre. If we want a shot at avoiding banishment, Bron will have to make an example of me.”
