The knife felt heavier in my hand than it used to and cold metal pressed against my palm while everybody around me stared at it like the thing might suddenly explain itself.
“That yours?” Drake asked looking at me sharply.
“Yeah.” I said forcing my expression to go flat through something ugly that had already started twisting low in my stomach.
“You sure?” Heath asked glancing between us while still holding the light on the blade.
“I’m sure.” I replied.
The scratches along the handle sat exactly where I remembered them in the black grip still carried the tiny burn mark near the base from when Brax accidentally knocked it against the egine block months ago.
I lost it in Raze’s warehouse which meant he kept it. Which meant he brought it back here himself.
Drake understood that
