Sadly, I don't own JP, Max, Igg, Fang, Gazzer, or Angel. But I do sill have Nudge. MUHA HAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAAAAAAAAAAahahahahahah ahahaahahahahahahaha hahahaahhaa.
"I suppose you owe me an explanation," Iggy said.
Oh god. It felt so good to finally get rid of her. But the adrenaline was gone. Now I was just dealing with the flood of memories, mostly bad, painful ones. He sat down next to me, and my walls broke down in a flood of tears. He held me comfortingly in his surprisingly warm grasp. He smelled like the fire, warm and earthy. I inhaled deeply and began at the beginning, pausing intermittently for sobs.
"Henrietta is my sister. My twin –sob-, actually and a –sob- feline-human hybrid. We were taken together, -sob- and we were-sob- so close. I loved –sob- her. The she abandoned me. She turned bad. My first memory –sob- of her was when I was –sob- 'bout three, and they were giving me shots. Poison, I think, to see how I dealt with it. it –sob- hurt, like –sob-, hell, an' she felt it like it was her own pain. Then –sob- she turned bad. 'Cats eat birds,' she'd –sob- say. I was always sickly, horribly jealous –sob- of her. She –sob- always did everything right. The –sob- scientists even –sob- liked her. She was –sob- cruel, but when we were –sob- six, she managed to get us out of there. I was so glad to finally –sob- get rid of her. I found myself at a –sob- orphanage in Colorado, and –sob- this evil family got me. They –sob- would hit me, and –sob- I'd hit back. They hated –sob- me. They sent me –sob- into foster care when I was –sob- eight, an' I switched around for a few years. I became –sob- rebellious. I pierced my –sob- nose, I hung out in Hot Topic for –sob- hours, and I lied about my –sob- age and went to -sob- sixteen plus concerts just to be a rebel, to forget about my past. I –sob- would drink an' ditch –sob- class all the time. I finally got a grip, but I –sob- never got over Henrietta. I hated her, but –sob- I loved her. I felt so –sob- good when I finally found you guys. I –sob- just wanted to start over. Then –sob- she showed up." It just all poured out. I had to tell someone. "Oh, damnit Iggy. You're hurt. Here, lemme see that," I couldn't help it. His wrist was broken, and he was bleeding like hell from a gash on his arm.
He held me sweetly, understandingly. It was kind of blissful in its sobbing horror.
"I can deal. You don't need to be compassionate. It's alright. She's gone now. You did great, Golden. It's fine. She won't come back. We took care of her minions. Oh my God," he deeply sucked in a breath. "You're bleeding. Bad. We need to get you to a doctor or something. You're hardly fit to heal yourself,"
I looked at my shirt. The purple fabric was dark with blood. Oh, crap. I was not gonna be able to heal it, not until I had more energy.
"Here, Golden. I'll carry you back to the campsite. You get you energy back," he said soothingly and picked me up. I was feeling faint from the loss of blood and his closeness.
"Okay, Iggy," I whispered, and I passed out in his arms.