The car was warm, but I was still cold. My fingers wouldn't stop twitching in my lap. I hadn't said a word since we left the station.
Dominic's hand rested on the steering wheel. I could feel his eyes drifting toward me now and then checking, like he always did, in that quiet way of his.
My thoughts kept spiraling. Over and over again, back to that moment. That glimpse of ink on Mr Blake's wrist. That snake.
The exact same tattoo Scarface had. And Baldy.
And now Mr. Blake.
"So," he finally said, "you gonna tell me what's been making you chew your lip for ten minutes or do I have to pull over and kiss it better?"
I blinked and looked at him. "What?"
He smirked. "You do this thing when you're overthinking…right here." He pointed at his own bottom lip. "It's cute. Distracting, though."
"Dominic," I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Can you not flirt for five seconds?"
"Nope. Not when you're sitting in my car."
"Okay, so… you know Mr. Blake from school?"
