Fifteen minutes into the ride I realized that Barkley is awfully talkative for who I assumed him to be.

He just chatted on and on about every little thing with pretty much all of it just going through one ear and out the other. At the time, only one thing was going through my mind: Escaping.

I would’ve made my way to the nearest police station, but Towson was an unfamiliar part of town for me, and I couldn’t turn on the GPS without Barkley’s dark eyes observing.

It was then where he probably heard the gears grinding in my head and turned to stare at me. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze, so I just muttered:

“Could you please stop that?”

Barkley blinked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Charlie. I must be making you uncomfortable. What do you say we get rid of all this evidence? We are starting off new, you know.”

“It’s hard to get rid of the evidence where you’re wearing it.” I responded sacastically.

Barkley cackled while showing a mouthful of frighteningly white teeth and requests for me to step on the gas.