Roadtrip
I bit my lip as I examined the map. I traced my finger across the map from our location to the red pin. When my finger touched the red pin, I felt a chill go down my spine.
driving
Wayward
I gripped the glass tight in my fist, and it hissed under the pressure. It was a warning not to press the issue or attempt to follow me when I left. I glared at him from the corner of my eye and drank the rest of the whiskey in one final gulp.