The drive back was quiet. Mark kept one hand on the wheel, the other pressed against his temple like he was trying to stop a headache. His jaw was clenched and his whole body tense, like he was holding himself back from doing something reckless.

I knew what he was thinking.

He wanted to go after Cholo. Find him. Hurt him for touching me, for messing with my head right in front of him.

But I didn’t want to talk about Cholo. I didn’t want to think about his hands on my face, his ...