Cop attention. Maybe some people would call the police in a situation like this, but Tony doesn't want to, and I agree with him. There's nothing that they can do that we can't do ourselves, and plenty that they can try and stop us from doing, when we catch up with that motherfucker. It's killing me, though, the pace and the traffic. I want to blast through them all. Anything could be happening while we piss about, crawling along... Tony isn't helping. The tension is pouring off him in waves, and his eyes are fixed on the small screen, as if staring at the marker will somehow make everything be OK. Personally, I'd feel a lot happier if that marker was moving. If Carl is driving, it means he's not doing anything else – not doing anything to Honey. The sick bastard. My eyes keep being drawn back to my knuckles, as they grip the steering wheel. They're still red and marked from when I was slamming my fists into his face. I should have killed him when I had the chance, or Tony should have, instead of worrying about his precious chain of command and who's business it was to beat the little creep's face in.
What do You think about Dragon: A Bad Boy Romance?
