"I really wish you'd eat something before we go, Grace," Harry said, keeping his tone neutral rather than stern so that he wouldn't start an argument with me.
"I'm okay," I pulled my thin long sleeve shirt over my head and grabbed the green corduroy jacket that I didn't even mean to pack. "But, um...there was something I wanted to ask you."
He shrugged on his own black leather jacket over his white t-shirt. "Anything."
I turned to him, straightening my posture as I prepared to fight for my case. "Your knife, or any knife, really. Can I have it?"
He stared back at me, and I knew he was already answering the question in his head. "Why do you think you would need a knife?"
"I don't know, but I want one."
"Well, I'm not giving you a knife," he practically cut me off. I saw that coming from a mile away.
I nodded as I stepped into my sneakers. "Fine, I'll get one from Zayn, then."
He caught my bicep as I attempted to walk past him. "Under no circumstances will you need a knife, Grace. You're only here to see Nora when we get her back, nothing else."
"So let me get this straight," I grunted from the effort it took to rip my arm out of his grip. "You'll willingly give me a human being because I wanted it, but when I ask you for a knife, that's where you draw the line?"
"This is different."
"I want it," I persisted, speaking through clenched teeth and sounding like an incredibly spoiled brat. "Please."
His frown only deepened as he stared down at me, and I could tell he was considering it as I held his eye contact. He really was a pushover when it came to me, wasn't he?
"You're not going to need to use it," he said, reaching into the pocket inside his leather jacket.
"Okay," I nodded in vague agreement as I held my palm out for it.
Against his will, he placed the red butt of it in my hand, and it was heavier than I thought. Before I could ask him how to open it, he instructed me to push the switch up and the nine-inch blade came snapping out at the same time that he took a step back. Had he not moved back, I would have stabbed him right in the chest.
"Okay, got it," I cleared my throat and retracted the blade by sliding the switch back toward me.
As I tucked the knife in my own jacket pocket, we went downstairs to meet the guys so we could leave. It was only half past 4:00 now, but I was slow to get out of bed after not really sleeping at all last night. That only meant Harry was up tossing and turning with me, trying to find new ways to hold and comfort me.
Zayn was the one who drove us back to the headquarters, and I couldn't help but watch the minutes pass up on the dashboard from the backseat. All I wanted to know was that Nora was okay, that Liam fed her, that she had a warm place to sleep, and that she would never understand that she was kidnapped–that we let this happen to her somehow.
And without all of Harry's employees, the inside of the building was so eerie as well as immaculately clean. It smelled strongly of chemicals and it was so quiet that the sound of the door closing behind us made me subtly jolt. The other strange thing was that none of the drugs were anywhere to be found. Maybe they packed it all yesterday.
As our wet shows all squeaked on the polished floor on our way to Harry's office upstairs, the guys ranked off to head down to another room in a separate hallway. Harry briefly explained that they were going to get whatever guns they needed, and I nodded like it was all very casual to hear.
