Savage《Teen Wolf》

Sixteen

16.

《Addison》

      "I take less time to get dressed, you girl," I called over my shoulder, strapping a knife to my leg before pulling my jeans down.

      "It's not easy looking this good," Dean claimed, coming out of the motel bathroom in flannel instead of his fed threads. He smirked, "Who are we kidding? Of course it is, it's me."

     Sam knocked on the door, coming in a moment later. "Are we almost ready?"

      "I don't know about Dean, but I am," I said rather surely, a total of three silver knives hidden on me.

      "The bait's excited," Sam mused. "I can already sense this is going to be great."

      "It will." I rechecked my clip in my .45 before putting it back into my jeans. "How did the FBI run in go? You never said."

      "You sold it pretty damn well so that helped a bunch," Sam said, already prepped for a fight.

      Dean flipped two blades in his fingers before putting them away. "But there was that one who didn't quite seem to buy it." He shrugged, grabbing the Impala keys. "It'll be nothing. We'll get this taken care of and we'll be out of here in no time."

      "Sounds good to me," I agreed, making sure I had a key to the motel room.

     "Hey, troubled teen." Dean held two things back to her. "Consider them props."

     "How troubled of a teen are we talking?" I flipped over the pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

     "Asked the monster hunter."

     "Shut up, Sam." I swatted him, putting the smokes into the pocket of my leather jacket. My eyeliner had been done more than usual and I had curled my hair so it fell bouncily.

     "Troubled enough to get the shifter to want to jump into you. Well, more like turn into you, but you know what I mean," Dean said, pulling up to a local building crammed between a burger shop and a cafe.

     "A music store. How indie." I lightly nodded, "I'm buying something here before we leave town."

      "I'll buy if you survive." Dean smirked back to me, "Just remember Ads, all of the kids who allegedly attack their parents were at this place before the assaults happened."

      "So, do want you have to to look like you hate your parents. Get creative," Sam told me, giving a supportive smile.

      "I'm expecting an Oscar," I said with a grin. "Warehouse, fifteen minutes top, gentlemen." Climbing out of the Impala, I walked up to the glass door of the record store with band flyers posted to it. Pushing through, the dimmed lighting inside went unnoticed as Fall Out Boy played through the sound system.

      I felt like I was enjoying this too much.

      "Hey, welcome to the Hideaway." A man behind the counter nodded his head to me as I came in.

      I smiled lightly to him, amused he didn't feel the need to ask if I needed help to find anything. I already looked like I puled off the look of constant reliance on a record store.

      And proudly, I could've pulled it off anyway. I wouldn't mind living in the music store in Devenford.

      I scanned the shop as I flipped through a selection of vinyl.

      It wasn't necessarily crowded, but there were a few people roughly my age. Two prospective problem-students caught my eye.

      I took out my phone with an annoyed expression, shooting Isaac a goodnight text while faking a scoff. "Yeah right, Mom," I muttered, sliding it back into my pocket.