When she grabbed his arm, Luka turned to look at her, frowning. "There's nothing to talk about. Either you'll help me or you won't. Don't worry, I'm not going to run out and spill your secrets to anyone. I'm not going to be around long enough to do that, and anyone I talk to already thinks I'm a fucking mental case and won't believe me anyway," he told her with a sigh. He shook his head then, looking away over across the street, falling quiet while he went back to his cigarette. It was an awful habit, but the nicotine somewhat calmed him. He could really use a joint right about now, but he didn't even feel safe eating the crap-looking American food, let alone smoking their weed. What a way to go, though.

He ashed the cigarette and blew the smoke out quickly. "Look, I'm sorry for causing you shit and ruining your day, or whatever the fuck. Jett doesn't need me dragging him down in the shit pool. Just take care of him and tell him I said goodbye. He can be a pain in the arse, yeah, but just know it's because he's got a heart of gold inside and he'll lay his life on the line for anyone. That takes balls and no one with balls is a simpering wimp like me."