Celeste;
'I went on some sort of a mission with your brother, sorry I didn't tell you before I left.'
Should I have greeted him first? I mull, my index finger glued to my chin as I stare at the message I've typed on the screen for the umpteenth time.
Caruso throws the door of his grey-colored Bentayga shut as I settle in, earning a flinch from me and dragging me out of my thoughts.
I fix a glare at him as he rounds to the driver's seat.
The engine sputters to life. His eyes meet mine, and I have the urge to look away.
His jaw ticks. "Seatbelt."
Immediately, my fingers grab onto it, strapping it across myself.
Then he pulls out of the residence.
The drive is slow and quiet. The heater is up in full blast against my skin, while I keep my gaze fixed on my side of the window.
Lit buildings blur past as we cruise along the road, not many cars out at this time of night. So the street is relatively clear of traffic.
Five minutes later, Caruso pulls over.
