I shrug off the fatigue and annoyance of the last few hours to check the restraints one more time. I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I don’t know why I agreed.
It’s sheer insanity. Buffy’s brain needs checked that much is obvious.
I give the ropes one final hard tug to make sure nothing’s lose and for some reason I flash back to what feels like forever ago. Instead of Dexter’s mildly frightened features, I see Spike sitting smugly in the tub. I see the peroxide bleached hair slicked back and the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I smell the microwaved cow’s blood. I shake off the annoying vision to refocus on Dexter’s wide eyed look of disbelief.
Maybe if I was him I’d be just as skeptical. I know I’m trying to figure out why we can’t turn him in, call his sister or do something besides feel trapped in a lose–lose situation.
( Read more... )