[ZEKE]
The sting of the needle barely registers. Still, I grit my teeth.
The nurse’s hand trembles slightly as she pulls the thread through my skin. She's sweating like a f*****g sinner in church, but she doesn't stop. She knows better.
Marco’s slouched against the wall, arms crossed, watching her work. And across the room, Dante’s glare could cut glass.
But it’s not directed at me. It’s directed at her.
Camilla stands with her arms folded, jaw tight with something that resembles pain, like she’s the one being stitched up again. She doesn’t speak or move. Just watches me.
There’s something in her eyes. I don’t like it.
It looks too much like concern.
I liked the look she had earlier. The one with her eyes rolled back in her skull and her legs trembling around my mouth. The way sh
