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“What do you mean?” Caspar asked.
“You know, how to follow directions and all that. Kind of like how we knew what we needed to do at the diner to keep you safe. You have to learn how to know when to take her words as a suggestion and when it’s an order just from a twitch of her hand or her eyes.”
Mykie glared at her in the rearview mirror.
“Ooh, see! That one means that she’s going to lean back here and smack me if I don’t stop talking,” Jezebeth said, pointing at the mirror.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. That’s not something you need to learn about me,” Mykie argued.
“Yes, he does,” Jezebeth snapped.
“No, he doesn’t,” Mykie grounded out between clenched teeth. “He may know about the Snake Pit, and he may be trusted with my secrets, but he’s not you or Dexter. He’s my boyfriend, and he doesn’t have to react to me like that or be waiting on the edge of his seat to make sure he doesn’t miss a cue. In that way, he’s above you.”
She felt the tension in the car rise as her two passengers stared at her wide-eyed. It was thick, and the silence accompanying it only made it worse. Did she say too much? Was she getting too protective and defensive over the boy, now that she was set on proving to him that she wouldn't let him blend into the background again?
“That’s all the more reason for you to figure out what are you going to do,” Jezebeth murmured, breaking the silence. “What happens next time you’re in a situation like at the restaurant with Richie Rich, and you need to make sure your attention isn’t divided between making sure he’s all right and focusing on your target?”
Mykie wanted to strangle her. She was right.
“I’m not defenseless,” Caspar argued. “I’m not stupid, either. I know when I can help and when I’m going to cause more problems by being in the way.”
“I know that,” Mykie said, dropping her right hand from the wheel and placing it over his on the armrest. She squeezed his hand, as if the gesture alone would make her words truer. “I hope it doesn’t ever come to a point where you have to prove to either of us just how good your instincts are."
“However, you’re right, Jezebeth. With the multiple attacks that the Vultures have pulled, at any moment I could be attacked. I don’t want everyone on edge, but sometimes it’s not as easy of a choice of fight or flight. I’m going to have to talk my way out of things, and Caspar needs to know when to stand back or when to support me. What do you suggest?” Mykie asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to focus on the road instead of the green-haired girl in the backseat.
“Watch you,” she said with a shrug. “That’s how I learned. You have to be in sync with your partner. It’s just all about falling in line when you have to and getting out of the way if there’s something dangerous. Get shit done or get out there so you can get the shit done.”
“I think I can do that,” Caspar said with a nod, looking at Mykie. “I know you’ve only really brought me on one assignment, but I saw how dangerous things can be and how quickly things can turn. I like to think I did the right thing, that time, and I’m not hot-headed like some of the others. I know what I can and can’t do. I’ll stay back in any situation unless there’s a clear sign that you need me to say something.”
Mykie nodded and sent him a smile. When she spoke, her tone turned dry as she directed her statement toward Jezebeth. "I've already suggested brushing up on some self-defense with Noah, so hopefully he will fall into the 'get shit done' category, as you so eloquently put it."
“I mean, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?” Caspar asked, looking between the two women.
“We’ll just hope you’ll never have to use what you learn,” Mykie said, squeezing his hand one last time before lifting it back to the steering wheel.
The conversation changed to something much simpler as Jezebeth pestered Caspar and after another few turns, Mykie came upon the street where Liam's Suits was located. It was on one of the crowded streets near Main Street, so there wasn't a lot of room for parking. She drove down the street from the shop and found a small space next to the curb that she had to squeeze into.
“Let’s get this over with, hmm?” Mykie asked, pulling her jacket tight around her as she turned the car off and opened her door to step out. Jezebeth grabbed Mykie’s bag from where she threw it in the backseat and tossed it to Mykie when she joined Jezebeth on the sidewalk. Mykie caught it in midair and took a moment to slide it on her shoulder and throw her keys into the pocket before she focused on her two companions.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Caspar said in a quiet voice once he reached where she was standing.
"Yes, I do. It's like you said, I can't isolate myself anymore. If I do, Renly wins." Mykie slipped her hand into his, entangling their fingers together. "Now, let's go make you look as handsome as you possibly can."
"Yeah," Jezebeth said, coming up beside the two of them as they walked down the street. "Maybe on the way back home, we can convince you to stop at a barbershop and to do something with that mop of yours."
"Hey!" he cried, bringing his hand to his hair. "You're one to talk. Isn't it about time to get your hair dyed again? Your roots are showing."
“Hmph!” Jezebeth pouted, bringing her hand up to touch her own head of hair as she stomped off.
“Good one,” Mykie said with a giggle.
They reached the door and Caspar opened it. Mykie grinned and stepped inside, noticing that Jezebeth had already arrived, and she noticed another group of three were already standing off to the side of the store.
“We have an appointment in ten minutes,” Renly stressed, pointing to his watch.
"As I've already explained, sir, your name isn't in the appointment book," the sales associate explained. He looked exasperated, almost as if he was trying to beg with his eyes for Renly to leave and let him go do his job elsewhere.
Mykie, Caspar, and Jezebeth walked over to the group gathered against the far wall.
