"What if she's awake?" I asked Ricky, as he picked the lock on her front door.
"Were you not listening at all to what Roman told us?" He scoffed.
"Not really. Let's be honest with each other though. Whoever really listens to a thing he says?" I replied.
That got him to crack a smile and chuckle.
"Now that's fair." He whispered, following me into her house.
"I'll go check out the left side of the house," I told him.
There was a small bathroom, a closet, and then a door that led to the garage. I had overestimated the size of this house by a lot. She probably felt like she was trapped in this tiny house. I took a quick peek around the garage but noticed something odd in her car. Taking a closer look, I was shocked at the scene in front of me.
I opened up the driver's door that thankfully wasn't unlocked, and quickly put my fingers on her neck, wanting to make sure she was still alive.
"Holy shit! What the fuck?" Ricky screamed, seeing the same scene as I did.
"I think she's ok. She's got a pulse and everything." I told him.
"Let me check." He growled.
He crawled in through the passenger's seat and checked her pulse as well. Apparently, someone didn't trust my medical skills. Although to be fair, out of all of the guys I'd be the last one anyone wanted doing anything medical-based, even simple first-aid.
"She's fine, right?" I double-checked.
"Yes. She's alive but fucking stupid. She obviously got shit-faced, and this blood I believe came from falling. I don't think those cuts stemmed from self-harm. Whether she got drunk first or fell first is anyone's guess. Either way, she's clearly not the brightest bulb in the box." Ricky growled.
"What should we do?" I wondered.
"Call Asher. Cameron doesn't need to worry about this right now, and Roman would not take so kindly to someone being this stupid. Not to mention the fact that she tried to call Allie's old phone. He doesn't need to be involved with this until we can figure out just what the fuck little Layla's up to." Ricky answered.
I went back into the house and dialed Asher's number as Ricky was carefully trying to get Layla out of her car.
"Hey man, what's up?" Asher answered.
"We've got a bit of a situation. We got into the house fine and everything, but she's passed out in the driver's seat of her car, an empty bottle of booze next to her, and it appears she fell on something and cut her arms up." I explained.
"Well, do you feel comfortable leaving her there? Or do you think she needs further care?" He asked.
"I think she'll be fine," I said.
"If you feel good about that then I say it's fine to leave her. Just make sure she's situated and take all of the alcohol out of her house. Make sure to move her to a safe place, and besides those two things - don't leave any evidence that you specifically were there." Asher told me.
"Ok, that sounds good. Ricky and I will be back in just a little while." I stated, saying goodbye and hanging up the phone.
Putting my phone away, I turned back to Ricky and I saw that he was just getting her out of the car and bringing her inside.
"What did he say?" Ricky wondered.
"That we should keep her here. He wants all booze out of the house, and for us to leave no hints behind as to who was here." I said, opening her bedroom door up for him.
Ricky sat her down on her bed, slid her under the covers, and left for a minute returning with a damp towel to clean her up.
"This is why I don't drink booze." Ricky snipped, carefully wiping the dried blood off of her arms, slightly staining the white towel.
"I drink, but I know not to get that shit-faced. I don't think I've ever been as blackout as she is. That's pretty fucking impressive." I scoffed.
"I don't think Cameron would use the word impressive to describe this," Ricky said.
"All I'll say is that she's lucky it wasn't Cameron that found her," I stated.
Ricky tossed the now blood-stained towel into the bag we brought along and cleared through the liquor cabinets, making sure to get every last bottle.
"Her luck will run out. She and Cameron will cross paths soon enough." Ricky chuckled.