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“Did you remember your knife, Little Flower?” Tyler asks. Patting at my pants as I loop my bag over my head, I shake my head.
“Shit,” I mutter, turning around.
“Is that really necessary?” Draven asks. “It’s the middle of the day, and you’re going to be with us all day.”
“It is,” I grunt, walking back into my room. I left it looped over a hook in the bathroom, and I roll my eyes. Unbuttoning my pants, I’m pushing them down my thighs as Draven follows me. “Do you mind?”
Propping himself against the door, he shakes his head as I strap the thin thigh holster to my body. “I don’t mind at all. The view is pretty from where I am. Now why do you feel like you need that?”
“I can’t get in contact with my uncle, so I asked my sister to look into finding him,” I begin, making sure the holster is tight enough. Pulling out the pocket in my pants, I rifle around for a pair of mini scissors in my makeup bag. “I can trust exactly one person on this tour to be responsible. You bet your ass I’m going to wear the fucking knife.”
Snipping through the thread that holds together the pocket enough that I’ll be able to get my hand through to pull my knife, I nod as I throw the scissors back into my makeup bag. Glancing up as I grab the knife, I notice Draven’s stricken face.
“If you’re getting high, Draven, and I disappear, then you’re immediately an unhelpful shit,” I huff, sliding the knife into my holster. It’s a present from Lenny and her husbands from a previous Christmas, and one of my favorite things.
Pulling up my pants, I fix my pocket and rebutton them. “My sister disappeared off the face of the earth a few years ago, so I’m not being dramatic. It happens, and I promised my uncle I would take care of myself. This is what that means.”
“Fuck,” Draven mutters. “I thought it was odd that I hadn’t heard back from Jordan. I also didn’t think of things like that. I wanted to forget, but I’m also your roommate, Layla. I should?—”
“I don’t need to be babysat,” I sigh. “I am just making sure I feel comfortable being out in public today.”
“You know how to use it?” he asks carefully, as if I’ll accidentally stab him with it even though it’s put away.
“Yes,” I chuckle. “I can shoot a gun, use a knife, and put you on your ass despite your size. I have had really good teachers.”
“Why am I worried about that last part?” Draven growls as I brush past him.
“I don’t know. It sounds like a personal problem. All you need to know is that I’m ready to go now,” I say brightly.
“Kyle texted me,” Tyler says, looking put out. Raising my brow, I shrug as if to ask why. “He said he’s adding an extra interview at the tail end of the day.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Fine, but I need food soon. It already feels like it’s been a long day.”
“I’ll make you something on the bus,” he promises. “I’ll throw together food before we get there. It looks like it’s a thirty minute drive, and there will probably be traffic.”
“I’ve never been more thankful for traffic,” Draven rumbles as he follows us out.
DRAVEN
Tyler threw together sandwiches and a salad, and it was very much needed. I always have the munchies after smoking. It never fails.
My eyes follow Layla as we get off the bus, and I think about her words. Am I dumb for simply expecting she would be completely safe with us? I suppose it doesn’t help if I’m fucking around with Atlas and Mav, instead of hanging out with her.
I know about the generalized situations that Layla should avoid, like sleeping on the roof or a couch in the lobby of a hotel. Those things make my palm twitch because they’re common sense to me. I also don’t want her walking alone at night.
See? Normal safety precautions for a beautiful young girl in a city.
I can’t even see the imprint of the knife or leather strap she is using to hold it in place. I’m not someone well versed in weapons, which is why it makes me twitchy that she feels she needs one.
“You look off,” Mav comments as we walk in. There’s a security guard that simply waves us through, and all I can wonder is how many other people they do this with. It feels decidedly unsafe.
“Me?” I grunt. “I’m thinking about how much I don’t know about the little chick. It’s bothering me.”
“Absolutely not,” Atlas hisses as we walk. “Please don’t get obsessed with her. Layla Campbell is off limits.”
“Only for you.” I shrug. “You have your own issues with her, but all I’ve experienced is a sweet girl who has been really niceto me. I trust your judgment typically. I just think you’re biased here.”
“You’re as old as we are,” Mav groans, making me shrug.
