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Summary
Cole noticed the tattoo in his survey, inspected where it started at his wrist, the maw of a dragon on a dark clouded backdrop, it snaked its way up, hidden under fabric. If he was working, he would have taken a better mental picture of it. Those kinds of features made identifying a person easy. He wanted to know where it ended, where the beasts tail might rest on his body.
“Your turn.”
“Pardon?”
“To analyze me,” he paused, cocking his head, “I can tell that you have been, but you haven’t said anything. Are you trying to play dumb, Mr. Cassidy?”
"Dumb? Shit," he laughed with awkward cadence, "if you’re gonna ask me questions like that we should at least be on a first name basis.”
The man hummed, “okay, Cole. Your turn.”