pogues

S1

🔆 Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

🔆 Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

🔆 Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

🔆 Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

🔆 Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

🔆 Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19

🔆 Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22

🔆 Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25

🔆 Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28

☀️

Deputies walk in and out of the Heywards' house every single day trying to find John B. Pope still hasn't had the guts to come home and speak to his parents, the rest are probably with him right now, and Kitty and I are still orphans.

Yesterday, a lady from child services came by to explain that if Mr and Mrs Heyward do not have the proper conditions to mind us until I turn 18 and can apply for Kitty's guardianship, we'll have to be separated and put back into the system.

It's all too much.

I cannot seem to get out of bed, because no matter what I do, she'll still be dead.

Grief is not unknown to me, but this feels different. It's almost as if my whole world has collapsed into millions of little shreds that no one but Susan would ever be able to put back. All this because we couldn't sit our asses down for two fucking seconds looking for gold like we're Scooby-Doo or something. I wonder where Scooby's parents were. Is he an orphan like me? Is that why he kept finding trouble wherever he went? Or was he like John B and just became exactly like his restless dad?

Lights and dings bring me out of my train of thought. Only one day has passed since I was stuck inside the precinct trying to make anyone just listen to the truth, and got nowhere. My phone has been blowing up nonstop since the very moment we were all separated on the tarmac, but I haven’t really had it in me to reply. Still, it doesn’t hurt to check.

1:34 pm

kie 💓: hey

kie 💓: we miss you

kie 💓: i don't really know what to say but we really need you rn

kie 💓: i don't mean to put you under pressure

kie 💓: but we can't figure this out without you

3:50 pm

kie 💓: have you heard from sarah?

3:58 pm

kie 💓: the whole island is looking for john b

kie 💓: we tried getting him out but the ferry's closed

4:02 pm

jj 🤪: Apparently you're not responding

jj 🤪: They wanna use my dads old cig boat to drive JB out

jj 🤪: How much of a shit idea do you think lol

4:10 pm

jj 🤪: Shit went down people saw JB lol lol lol

jj 🤪: Not the best time to go MIA Megs oh shit

jj 🤪: 3 o'clock tomorrow at the dump ok?

4:12 pm

jj 🤪: Please show up man

I want to respond.

I can't.

John B needs me and I know that but every time I think about going out to see him, Kitty’s lost eyes reveal how bad she wants me to stay; and quite frankly, there is no one else in the world I'd rather be with now.

She's always just laying beside me, quietly scrolling through Tiktok. The whole day it's been that way, not a noise coming from either of us and no desire for conversation, just grasping onto the small comfort of each others’ presence.

As I gather up the courage to try and ask her how she feels, blue and red lights cover the room through the half-open windows. A siren sounds, followed by a desperate voice, “White male seen running through backyards. If seen, report immediately to Kildare County police. I repeat, if seen, report immediately to Kildare County police.”

“Do you think that's John B?” She asks, pulling me out of trance.

“I seriously hope not.” I feel my wide eyes take up half my face as my heart begins to race, “Kitts—”

“Just go.” She smiles softly. “It's okay.”

☀️

I just don't know where to go. I pedal aimlessly, passing John B's place — not an option, surrounded by cops. Right, okay. Guess none of our places would really be an option then.

It’s marvellous, how quickly I caved. A minute ago I didn't want to leave Kitty and then as soon as it registers how fucked John B actually is, I leave her behind. I'm so fucking selfish.

Jeez, it’s like a little pestering voice inside my brains that tell me no matter what I choose to do, no matter what path I follow, I’ll be wrong.

Susan would be the one to guide me, usually, in moments like this.

Oh, God. I have to force myself to shake that thought or I won't be able to help either of them right now. Focus, Megan. Think. Where? Who?

And then it clicks. Sarah.

—

As predicted, no cops are waiting at the murder house since they paid their way into innocence. Seeing the old tree I used to climb up when we were smaller, my brain finally works well enough to form a half-assed plan. I bang on her window a few times but no response. I try one more time and since I can't face the ones who killed my mom tonight, I give up before the wrong Cameron hears me.

Plopping back down, a small creak sounds from the side door. I freeze, trying to come up with a million possible lies at once, but before I can say anything, the figure walking out beats me to it as their eyes meet mine, “Shit.”

The first genuine smile I have had in days appears as I watch her blong hair and teary eyes run in my direction for a quick hug. “I thought Ward had locked you in a basement or something.”

“No, in my room. Long story short I got Wheezie to get me out.”

For as much as I love Wheezie, that girl has never been able to keep a secret in her life. “Right, so we have about 30 seconds before we're fucked?”

“I'll grab my bike quick, just wait here and lay low.”

I nod silently.

Once we mount our bikes, I let her take the lead. She follows the sirens getting louder and louder by the minute. “I think they got him,” She says, nearly out of breath. “That's the only explanation for this many patrols out, right?”

Crowds of curious bystanders surround active police cars at a doorstep as we arrive.

“Topper’s house?” I whisper to myself, coming to not a single conclusion as to why it’d make sense for John B to be hiding here.

I hit my brakes in a quick motion, seeing a girl I somewhat recognize from school talking to another girl I also kind of recognize from school, “Hey, did they catch him?” I hurriedly ask.

“No, not yet. Said he's headed to Shems Creek. Come on,” She gestures for us to follow along. I move to obey, but Sarah sits still on her bike, a pensive look covering her features.

“Hey, you coming?” I ask.

“Trust me,” She says as she turns her bike around, “Come on.”

As we go in the complete opposite direction as everyone else, she takes random turns into the woods that leave me terrified I'll fall into a pothole, or a ditch, or even a mud pile. “Sarah, where are we?”

Just then, she stops at this insanely old church that seems abandoned and mounts off. Seeing a pile of bushes around, she tosses both our bikes in, hiding them as best as she can, and pulls me by the wrist, “Hurry up, come on,”

“Sarah, where the fuck are we?”

She heads up many, many flights of stairs through the back entrance, finally finding a way into what I can only assume is the attic. She gets out first, letting out a loud sigh and a cry-like noise that leaves me worried,

“Are you ok—” I gasp, finally managing to step out into the small, very confined space. “Oh my God.” The relief in my voice is clear as I watch them hug, tears falling from both their eyes.

John B stands there, tall, just like I've always known him to be. The whole county is after him, his world crumbles with each minute, and yet he doesn't seem to regret any of it; and I'm sure if I asked, he'd say he wouldn't have done anything differently in his life.

I've always admired him for this. No matter how many sticks and stones are thrown his way — and there are many, many of them — he's always so sure of what to do. For me, it's the opposite. I am barely holding on as it is, and now without Susan, I am even more lost.

How can he be so inspired all the time? Gee, I wish I knew. But to me, he's always been the same way. A boy who stands tall no matter what. I think he should go down in history books with that description under his picture after conquering the world or something.

“I thought I'd never see you again.” He cries, embracing Sarah tighter.

“Are you okay?” Her voice trembles as she asks.

“Yeah, are you?” Instead of replying, they share the most passionate kiss. My heart breaks at the sight, though there are too many reasons why and now it is not the time for any of them.

“Megs,” He hurries over to my side the moment he notices a tear falling from my eye. “I am so so sorry. Are you okay?”

I nod, pulling him in. “Now you're not the only orphan again.” I laugh. He chuckles softly, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead and whispering a thousand apologies.

The sound of wood being stepped on starts to rise from the stairs we just climbed, leaving John B with panic setting into his face. “Were you followed?” He asks, heart beating so loud we can hear it from the outside.

“Uhm...” I shake my head frantically, “I— I don't know!”

The floor opens, revealing someone’s big ass forehead. Unmistakable, I think to myself.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE TOP?” John B shouts, holding his flashlight almost as a weapon towards the very sweaty blond boy.

Topper raises his arms in surrender, "Hey, just take it easy, man. Just—”

“Don't fucking move.” He threatens.

“Just let me talk to Sarah. Please.” He begs, looking at her.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, “That's not the best idea, buddy.”

“Megan, this is none of your business, okay, please, let me speak with her, please.”

I get slightly offended but Sarah intervenes before I can kick his face in, “Speak, Topper.”

“It's not too smart, is it?” He asks, out of breath. “Meeting up with a fugitive like this?” He steps inside, making John B move closer, “I'm not— I'm not gonna do anything, alright? What are you gonna do, are you gonna try to kill me too, man? Come on,”

Sarah cuts him off, “He didn't kill anyone.”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffs, “He literally brainwashed you, Sarah!”

“No.”

“Huh?” He proceeds to smile like a maniac, “Come on, snap out of it!” He then reaches or the bell rope, shaking it uncontrollably, “HEY EVERYBODY, HE'S UP HERE!”

“SHUT UP, TOPPER,”

“SHUT UP, MAN!”

Our voices overlap in pure hatred for his pathetic little ass who can’t get over the fact that he lost the girl, as he desperately tries to grab attention to John B’s hiding spot,

“SHUT UP, TOPPER!” John B finally grabs him by the face, making his arms once again shoot up in surrender, “You done?”

Topper's breath shakes as he lets out an insincere “I'm sorry.”

“We're good,” John B lets go of him with a warning stare, “Just take it easy.”

“Sarah,” He starts again, making me buff loudly. After giving me a shitty look, he turns back to her, “I warned you about these Pogues, didn't I?”

“He's innocent!”

He shakes his head, “Then who did it, Sarah? Hm?”

She swallows dry before answering, “Rafe.”

Topper's mouth falls agape as his body turns to face me in a quick motion. Just hearing his name made me shiver, eyes immediately filling up and body shaking. My vision blurries as I try to just stand still, not wanting to give him any ammunition.

“Why would I say that my own brother did it if it wasn't true?” She begs. I feel my legs wanting to cave, forcing me to move closer to the wall to find support. I lean my back against it as the knot on my throat grows, making it impossible for me to speak without breaking into tears.

She continues, “I was there, Topper,”

“Don't lie to me, Sarah,” He warns, shaking his head.

In response, she nods, “Sheriff Peterkin was trying to arrest my father, and then Rafe shot her.”

“No.”

“That's my brother!” She pleads.

The tears fall freely as I say, “He did it.”

“No,” He denies once again.

“That's her brother, and that was my boyfriend. And he did it, Topper.” The words barely manage to come out, “He killed my mother.”

Sarah continues for me, “Why would we lie about that?”

The siren sounds grow closer and John B shoots me a look, begging for an escape plan. “Shit,” he whispers as a car pulls in. “We've gotta go.”

“Yeah,” Sarah and I both nod.

Topper pulls her by the waist, “Sarah, you realize I'm the one that loves you—”

She turns in a quick, anger-filled motion, “I DON'T CARE RIGHT NOW, TOPPER. Do you understand what's going on?! Are you insane? I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry. But this isn't about you.”

He trembles upon hearing her words, “What does that mean?”

I step closer, gently pulling her away, “We gotta go.”

“Sarah, you've gotta realize that he doesn't love you!” He begs, “I'm the one that loves you, he doesn't. He doesn't love you like I do and I can— I can prove it,” He reaches for her again, focing me to shove him aside, “Do not touch her.”

“Sarah, look at me,” He continues, ignoring me entirely, “I can prove it to you. Just let me prove it to you. Please.”

She goes silent, heavy breathing bouncing off the walls and echoing through this haunted-looking room.

“I'll do it.” He says.

“You'll do what?” She asks.

“I'll prove it. John B and I, we— we'll change clothes. I'll go out, they'll see it's me, right? And you three go out a different way. Okay? We'll do that, Sarah, I'll do that, for you.”

We all hesitantly stare, awaiting John B's response and her confirmation that we can, in fact, trust him.

“Sarah?” I call out, “Quick, dear.”

🔆

I can’t move.

I can’t breathe.

I feel my heavy head prop down, staring at the grey tiles ahead.

1, 2, 3, 4. I count the lines that separate each of them. On the side of the dirtiest one, there’s a crack; it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. Looks like a spot people walk on a lot.

Shadows come, and shadows go. Every single one of them steps on the crack and doesn’t even notice it. They can’t even tell that it’s there. They can’t tell the foundation that keeps them sheltered has crumbled.

My eyelids feel heavy now. It is as if I have no more water inside of me, not a single tear left to drop. My mind replays the scene of Susan falling to the ground, shellshocked, the blood on her shirt taking up more and more space. How she looked at me with love, and how I watched it die with her. All the love gone as her rattled breathing slowly silenced.

And the eyes of her killer piercing through me without a single ounce of regret.

The crack doesn’t move. It stays on that same little corner as my chest tightens and I feel like there’s no more air inside the planet. My hand flies up to my chest, trying to contain it, but it’s too late. Before I know it, I fly through the pushing doors and feel the cold breeze run through my overheated body, giving me instant chills. I wrap Pope’s jacket around my shivering body, the one Mr Heyward gave me on the way here, and it helps for a moment. The blinding blue and red lights reflect all around as more vehicles pull in, each and everyone having a colleague of hers looking down at me with pity.

“It’s cold out here, sweetie.” Mr Heyward says.

“I needed some fresh air. Be just a second, promise.”

He kindly taps my shoulder, walking back inside. For the last four hours we’ve sat here answering questions, filling in reports, and getting told to wait. I have begged and pleaded for them to put both Rafe and Ward behind those cells, but to no avail. Their money will buy them off anything, I guess. And since not one of my friends can show their faces here without getting sent to juvi, it’s my word against the rich men’s. Who do you think will get off easier?

Mrs. Heyward brought Kitty to their house and she’s already asleep, she called to say. Mr Heyward promised he’ll do whatever it takes to keep me and her with them until they find us a better home.

I told the lady from child services, Marla, I will never let us go back into the system. She says we have no choice. Mr Heyward says he’ll try to see if he can become our legal guardian.

Only none of it matters, because Susan is dead. Everything else will fall back into place eventually, but nothing they promise will bring my mother back to life.

Heading back inside, I stop Shoupe as he tries to brush past me, “When can I go home?”

“Soon, dear. Not much left to do.”

“You’ve heard what I have to say. You’re not buying it. So when do I get to go and be with the only family you haven’t ripped from me yet?”

He sighs, “It’s not my fault. I’m just out here doing my job—“

A chuckle escapes me as my eyes roll, “Hell of a good one.”

“Listen, child,” He warns, “Sheriff Peterkin meant a whole lot deal around here. To some, she was the only friend they had. So trust me when I say we will do the right thing by her.”

Trust me, he says. Whatever the fuck that word even means. There’s no point in trusting people when all they do is what’s best for themselves.

“That sheriff badge will go good with your name tag. Long live the new ruler.” I bow, taking my belongings from the little investigation bag and walking out.

Mr Heyward shouts after me, saying he wants to drive me home, and I thank him kindly, but I have somewhere else to be. I tell him to look after Katherine and I’ll be there to sort out her breakfast in the morning.

—

The house I grew up in is no longer there. They demolished it last year, gave the land rights to the Maybanks since it was ridiculously small to begin with. Grass has covered the entire area where it used to be, the new signs of life covering up the ugliest parts of my past.

I remember the day my mother overdosed so clearly. How Susan was the one who picked up my call to the station, and drove out here in no time. How she saw my mother unconscious on the couch and brought us outside, and went alongside Shoupe to take us out for ice cream while they moved Mom's body to the ambulance. And how she listened, calmly, as I cried tears of grief - not only for Mom, but for my runaway dad. I recall how Shoupe looked at me in that moment, eyes filled with regret; since Dad never came back to Mom's care. I was 7 when he fled, and 12 when Mom died.

Susan kept track of us every single day afterwards. Trials, social care, foster homes... She'd oversee it all. And she looked for Dad everywhere. Not a day would go by when she wouldn't search every state, airport, and camera in this country to try and bring him back to us. That only ever brought us closer, of course, until the day she asked us if we'd like to move in with her.

She asked me first, and then pretended to ask again in front of Kitty. My sister was too young, and she'd get her hopes too high too quickly, so Susan said she needed to make sure I thought it'd be the right track for her. I was skeptical, she could tell, but my little heart grew at the mere thought of having a home to ourselves again, and of having the bravest woman I'd ever met as a mother. So I said yes.

Susan made every day magical. From deep conversations, to patiently enduring Kitty's tantrums, and even making sure we had most meals together daily, she cared and loved us so much. She didn't care that we were broken, scared, and lost; she fought to make sure we knew she was here, no matter what.

All of it is gone now. That house, my parents, and the woman who saved me.

🔆

"Good news for residents of the Outer Banks. Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to 90% of the area, should be functional within 24 hours. And still, no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from the Cut area who goes by the name of John B Routledge—"

Mr Heyward quickly shuts off his radio with an apologetic look.

I avert my gaze, focusing on cutting the breakfast sandwich Mrs Heyward has kindly made for us this morning. I shot out of bed at 8am to prepare something for Kitty to eat, but she was very nice and told me to lay back down. We slept on Pope's bed, since he hasn't been home all night, and his dad says he probably won't be for a while; he just found out his son ran away from his only chance at a merit scholarship for a prestigious college.

I notice Kitty staring blankly at her food, carelessly pulling at the melted cheese around the edges of the bread. "Not hungry?"

"This isn't the same as mom's."

A pitiful sigh escapes me. She was already asleep when I arrived last night, her cheeks stained and eyes all puffy. Mrs Heyward said she cried herself to sleep and kept asking to go home, and they just tried to hold her until she fell asleep. This morning, it looks like she hasn't fully processed it yet. She's quiet, sad, not really wanting to talk. To be honest, I don't have the answers to the questions in her heart yet, so I don't mind waiting until both of our shocks dial down to have a proper conversation.

"I'll probably have to go back to the station," I say, "Will you be okay here? Or do you want to come with?"

She shakes her head, "No."

"Princess, I'm here, okay? Call me whenever. I'll come running."

She just nods in response.

Mr Heyward answers a knock on the door just as I'm about to ask her to eat. Officer Kinley and him have a chat that I can't quite make out, until she walks in and hands me a paper. "WANTED. $25,000 REWARD. JOHN B. ROUTLEDGE." It has a photo of him, the same one they used on his social services file to make his uncle his legal guardian, a caution warning for his 'criminal' behaviour and a full description of his address, age, and last-seen outfit.

My scoff comes out rudely, "Ridiculous."

She ignores me, "Have you spoken with him any time between yesterday afternoon and today morning?"

"No," I respond truthfully. "And even if I had, it would've been none of your business. He didn't do it."

"We have witnesses who say he did it."

I laugh, "Yeah, rich-ass Ward Cameron who gets away with anything he does because he has the Mayor's number on speed dial. You're wasting your time running after a basically homeless 16-year-old child who was only trying to stop that sick idiot from stealing money that doesn't belong to him. Again."

She sighs heavily, "I just need to know if you've seen him or not, Megan."

"I simply love how you're all disregarding my version of what happened as an official witness, too. The real version, might I add. But of course, Rafe Cameron could never be seen behind bars, could he?! He's too rich for that kind of Pogue shit."

"Isn't he your boyfriend?"

"He was." Another scoff escapes me, "All the more reason for you to fucking try to believe me."

"Megan, I'll be honest with you. If you want to stay together with your sister, both of you under the same roof with the Heywards until your case is settled and we find you another permanent home, you better not lie to us about being in contact with this boy. Don't even do it for yourself, do it for the little girl sitting right there who only has you now."

My guard immediately falls as Kitty's water-filled eyes meet mine. I take a deep breath before replying, "No, Officer Kinley. I have not seen nor have I heard from John B since yesterday."

"Good, kid. If anything happens, at all, you call us. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The Heywards bid their goodbyes and I watch as she walks out, all ready to look for the wrong person out there.

"You believe me, right?" I look up at Mr Heyward, who's pouring himself a second cup of coffee in only two hours.

His sorry eyes look down on me, "I just want you two to be safe, sweetheart."

"You've known him almost as long as you've known me, Mr Heyward. We're talking about John B here. He would never, ever, ever hurt anyone. He has a good heart. You know that."

🔆

5:32pm

megs: where are you? we need to talk

megs: like now. we need to talk right now

rafey: Busy. I'll meet you tonight.

megs: no, rafe, it's code red

2 Missed Calls

megs: please pick up

rafey: Princess whatever it is we'll handle it tonight, I promise. Bye

I sigh and turn my phone off. On the way to Ward's private tarmac to try and stop him from kidnapping Sarah and leaving with all of our gold would've been a perfect time to talk, but this man always needs to go about his mysterious shit without telling me about it. Whatever.

"Go in there, guns a-blazin', make Ward Cameron beg for mercy, abscond with as much gold as possible and vamonos, get the hell out of there." JJ's voice brings me out of my own head as I watch him carefully roll a blunt on the back of the Twinkie.

"Send that shit right down the Intercoastal." John B adds.

Kie follows, "Wait for the weather,"

"Exit to Cuba." Pope finishes.

"Cuba?" The blond laughs, "Nah, man. Xcalak, Jewel of the Yucatan. Lobsters so thick, mangoes, and no word for money." He cocks the gun with a sly smile.

A grin that looks a little too much like his forms on all of our faces. "Let's do this shit."

______

The plane hasn't left when we arrive. John B pushes the wire gate out of the way, making a tiny hole for us to climb through to the runway.

Kie runs to catch up, "What's the plan? Broad strokes!"

"I don't think we got that far." The boy responds. We stand still, not daring to come in unless told so.

Through Pope's binocle we can see around 3-4 men loading up the gold into the Cameron's private aircraft. A car horn beeps as soon as John B takes hold of the thing, revealing Ward rushing in with Sarah in the car. We can't really hear a word they're saying, but one of the men dressed in all-black is talking to a frowny-faced Ward.

"He kinda looks like Bob from Luke's yard." I whisper to JJ.

"Nah," He shakes his head, "Bob wouldn't work for a Cameron in a million years."

I rub my fingers together, "Not unless he got his share of it."

The boy shrugs, knowing that my point is valid. When you live a life like those men in the Cut, you'll do pretty much anything for a bit of extra cash. Even if it means sacrificing your dignity.

"He's hurting her." As the words come out of John B's mouth, we hear faint protests from Sarah fighting not to get into the plane. "They're fighting."

Before the words even escape his lips he's already running through another hole he just made on the gates by smashing the Twinkie right in the middle of it, making all the people in the way jump to not get run over.

"Shit," JJ whispers a second before sprinting after the boy who's on the way to face Ward Cameron without as much as a failed plan.

"JOHN B, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" We try, but before we know it he's stepping full gas onto the runway. The plane is moving, starting its course, and that seems to only motivate him to drive faster.

"Don't be a hero, please, don't be a hero." I whisper to myself in hopes that by some alignment of the universe, he'll hear it. Sadly, it doesn't seem to be the day for miracles, so just like the rest, I run to keep up with him.

No matter how fast we go, a car — for as old as that thing is — much faster than all of us combined. I have to take a moment to catch my breath, squinting to try and see what's happening. John B is driving as fast as the plane, side by side, trying to talk Sarah into calming down. He places an even heavier foot on the gas, passing the aircraft;

"Don't do it." Pope is the one reasonable enough to say what we are all thinking.

John B slams his foot on the break, drifting the van sideways and taking it to a halt not even 50 feet away from the plane. Our heartbeats can be heard beating out of our chests as we watch Ward not even slowing down, but instead going faster towards where our friend is parked.

"JOHN B!" Kie shouts in desperation.

By some unknown miracle — probably called Sarah — the plane suddenly halts as it's about to hit him. A large clinking sound echoes through our ears, making us think that the gold was not too well tied up and flew all over the place with the sudden movement.

In unison, all of us sigh in relief as we watch Sarah hopping down from the plane and hugging her boyfriend. Police sirens sounds, making our heads turn back in a quick and painful motion. Pope's eyes widen, "Guys, I can't get arrested."

"I'm on probation." JJ adds.

"Look, we're no good if we're all in jail." Kie says, taking our backpacks from the floor.

As she hands me mine, I can't seem to take it. The siren, Susan is probably in it. And John B and Sarah, I can't leave them. And there's something deep in my gut telling me I should stay.

"C'mon," JJ nudges.

"Y'all go ahead," I shake my head, "John B has a lesser chance of being arrested if I'm here.

"You sure?"

I nod, "Go. Run."

And they do as they're told. I, on the opposite hand, run towards what feels like imminent trouble. Still, Susan always tells me my gut is the most valuable thing I own, and I should listen to it. I hope she remembers this before grounding me tomorrow.

"Oh, thank God you're here!" Ward's voice sounds as soon as Susan hops down from her vehicle. "Susan, I told you he's lost his goddamn mind."

"Hey," I pull Sarah into a hug and watch as her eyes widen in fear.

"What are you doing here? Are you insane? You're gonna get arrested!" She hurriedly tries to push me to run, but I stand my ground.

"My mom wouldn't let that happen. Just trust me."

She nods, but I can still see the fear in her eyes.

"Put your hands on your head." Susan demands, walking up and acknowledging me with anger in her eyes but not a word out of her mouth.

Ward turns to us with a winning smile, watching as Sarah tries to shield John B with her body, "I'd do what she said, kid."

Susan then pulls her gun out, cocking it and aiming at... Ward?

This doesn't make any sense. Why would she arrest Ward when all signs point to John B being the only fugitive within a 100-mile radius?

"She's talking to you, Ward." John B replies.

Ward turns, that cocky smile quickly fading from his face. "You're under arrest for the murder of Big John Routledge."

Sarah gasps as a tear rolls down from her face, her body failing to stand upright and falling onto John B's arms. "I got you," He whispers, not a single trace of shock in his voice.

"You knew?" I ask. He stares blankly at the ground.

Oh my God. My chest tightens in pity of the poor boy. I cannot even begin to imagine how much it must hurt to look into the eyes of the man who killed you father and got away with it for so long.

"Are you kidding me?" Ward exclaims angrily.

"Put your hands on your head." Susan demands once again, not once faltering.

"Are you kidding me, Sue?" He tries again, stepping closer to her.

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!" She shouts. He stops moving, standing there like a man with a failed cause. Slowly, we watch as he raises his hands behind his head. "Turn around." He does as told, looking at nothing but the eyes of his own daughter.

Sarah has her mouth open, not being able to make sense of a single thing happening. She shakes in fear when Susan commands "DROP TO YOUR KNEES!"

Both Cameron's eyes shut at the sound of her voice, but thankfully Ward is intelligent enough to do as he's told. "I don't like being used." Susan states as she lowers her gun, taking out the handcuffs to place on Ward. I smile at the sight — only she has the power to make a man who sees himself as the biggest, look so small. On his knees, powerless, and cowardly.

"I waited a long time for this." She pushes him, watching as he falls to the ground, and brings her gun back out.

The gunshot echoes all around us. Sarah gasps and falls to her knees, but I just feel John B's terrified stare coming my way.

A body drops to the ground, lying flat.

But it isn't Ward.

Susan's eyes widen in pain as she takes deep breaths, dropping her gun and losing control over her body.

"No," I run to hear, my legs feeling like jelly and making me drop by her side. Her eyes, looking deep into my soul, fill with water as she gathers all her strength to take her hands in mine.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," Sarah and I both tell her at the same time.

She groans in pain, still looking at us with the kindest eyes, "It's not your fault, sweethearts,"

Her eyes find mine, after much struggle, as she subtly calls out for me. "Oh, my baby."

It comes out as a whisper as her head drops ever-so-slightly to the side, her open eyes now staring at nothing.

No.

It can't be.

Even though I can feel the commotion around me, my world goes silent. A scream comes from deep within me as the tears run down from my face and onto her chest. I lay my head on her stiff body, begging for this not to be real. Not her, please.

"You're all I have, Suz, please. Kitty needs you. I need you. Please, God, please."

I place both my hands on where the bullet is, trying my hardest to stop the blood from gushing out. "Please don't leave me. I need you here. Please, mom, I can't do this without you—"

"Just hold still, mommy, okay? Hold still. Does it hurt? It looks like— looks like it hurts. Just stay still, mom, I'm right here,"

"DO SOMETHING!" I beg for help, seeing Sarah crying in shock on the floor. John B rushes to my side, taking the bandana off his neck and applying it to her wound. He pulls the radio off of her now lifeless body, to try and call for help, but stops when someone yells something and points a gun at him.

"I got it, calm down," Ward says to whomever as he pulls the radio off of John B's hands. I don't have it in me to take my eyes off of Susan, but he boy by my side quickly stands up, and I feel a pair of arms try to lift me from the floor, and I can't make sense of what he says. "JOHN B STOP, I NEED TO SAVE HER. LET ME GO—"

I try to fight him off, but as I look up, I see Rafe walking from behind the plane holding a gun. His eyes are swollen, like he doesn't have any control over himself anymore, and I watch as he trembles in place.

"Rafe, no," Sarah's shaky voice calls.

It's only when she whispers that my brain makes sense of it.

Rafe smiles proudly, "I saved you, dad." His smile widens as he sighs in relief, "I saved you."

Before Ward can reply, Rafe's eyes meet mine, and the world goes silent.

Everything around me disappears. The world stops spinning.

And for a moment, it is just me, Rafe, and my dead mother on the ground.

"What did you do—" My tear-stained hot cheeks turn progressively redder as I feel the anger coursing through my veins. "What the fuck did you just do, Rafe?"

His expression drops. He's not able to mutter a word as he stares at me with insincerely apologetic eyes. My blood boils at the sight,

"YOU FUCKING COWARD," Before I know it, I'm lunging towards his figure with all the strength I have in me. I push him, punching as hard as I can, getting angrier when he doesn't even budge.

"I'm sorry," I hear him whisper.

I slap his face as hard as I possibly can, pushing him further until he falls, "I TRUSTED YOU. YOU MURDERER. YOU FUCKING IDIOTIC SON OF— JOHN B, LET ME GO!" I once again try to fight off the boy's arms that forcefully drag me away from the man who killed the only real mother I've ever had. "YOU BURN IN HELL, RAFE CAMERON. I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU HEAR ME? YOU ARE DEAD TO ME."

John B drops me in Sarah's grip as she yells at him to run. He looks at me and Susan with broken eyes, whispering a hurried "Sorry," Before running as fast as he can.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING, HUH?" Rafe shouts when he sees the boy in motion "WHERE ARE YOU GOING, JOHN B?"

When he tries to rush after him, Ward, Sarah and I fight to stop him.

"PLEASE STOP, DON'T," Sarah cries as he shoots onto the open field John B's fleeing through. Ward manages to get a hold of him, slapping the gun off his hand.

Ward hides it on his pockets, pacing side to side without knowing what to do. "Megan, sweetheart, you need to go—"

"Your son just killed my mother," I cry, pressing firmly on my heart as it feels like it's just crawled out of my chest. "You're all murderers. I hate you," My gaze turns to Rafe, "You fucking disgust me. I hate you." The words don't come out right as they're covered among sobs and the snot running through my nose.

My world has ended, just here, just now.

They fight with Sarah to bring her home, I can hear their figures moving all around me, but I can't look at anything other than Susan's lifeless body just laying on the ground. I fall next to her once again, feeling Sarah's hug forcefully being dragged away from me as she shouts endless apologies.

Rafe drives her away, and I pretend to listen to Ward's reasons as to why I should leave, but my tears drown out the sound of his voice. To me, nothing else exists except me and her right now.

I don't know how much time has passed, or who called him, I just know at a certain point Mr. Heyward, who was working the grounds, is pulling me from her body as he says he'll drive home with me, and he'll take care of me. He wraps a blanket around my shivering body and carefully brings me over to his car, patiently holding the door open for me.

I take one more look at her before getting in,

"I need you, mommy."

🔆

The boat ride back is blissfully silent. JJ dropped me at the Cameron’s dock and I decided not to fight against my wishes to just give a quick knock at their door, just to see who’s in. Nobody answers, so I move a few doors down where there are lights on the beach. No music, no people, but the LED lights are going strong. I just know I’ll find him where there’s been a party.

Rafe opens the Glissons’ door after a few insisting rings on the bell, with his hair all messy and a strong scent of alcohol.

His frown turns into an honest smile as soon as his eyes find my figure “Heyyyy, you!” He drags.

I giggle a “Hi!”

“Come in, come in,” He hurries me, turning my body to face him as soon as I step in, “But hey, Shhhhhhhh okay?! They’re all sleeping. Sleeeeeeeeeping!”

I quietly laugh, nodding. As I walk up the stairs to his room it gets harder to hold my laughter in upon his rumbles of “The princess is here, all kneel to the princess of Pogue and Kooklandia!”

“I can’t be the princess of both, you know?” I carefully close the room’s door behind us, watching as he flops onto the bed as if he hasn’t seen it in years. Another giggle escapes me as he smiles, and shakes his head aggressively,

“No. You can. You are!”

“Well…” I lay beside him, pulling his body closer. He lays his head on my lap, hugging my waist tighter as I begin to run my fingers through his hair. “Does this princess get to have a prince?”

I feel his mouth twitch into a smile against my bare stomach, “You like me!”

“Hm, maybe,” My smile widens, “Or maybe I just know what to say when you’re drunk.”

“You always know what to say.” His words are draggy, almost as if he’s running out of battery. I feel the warm air of a sigh on my skin, “You always know what to say. Sometimes I think you’re the only thing keeping me sane.”

I laugh, “Oh I’m not doing too good a job on it, then.”

“Huh,” The sound barely comes out of him. “Checkmate. Can I tell you something?” I whisper a confirmation and he continues, “My dad kicked me out. I was just trying to help and he got me out and I don’t know what I did wrong because Sarah does nothing,” He cries out, slurring so much I struggle to make sense of it. “But she gets everything and I try so hard and I learn and I even read all of his stupid books that make no sense and he doesn’t even care and he’s going to the Bahamas with Sarah and not me and—”

“You need to get your shit together, Rafe. Alright? This,” I gesture to the space around us, and he props his head up to look at me, “Out of the house, drunk out of your mind and on drugs I don’t even know what they’re made of? This is unsustainable. And you need to do it for you, not for him—”

He scoffs. I shoot him a warning look as I continue, “Your father will never think what you’re doing is enough, because he thinks nothing that he does is enough. He always wants more. You don’t have to be like him. You can work for his business, make a shitload of honest money, and build a nice life for yourself. Houses, cars, boats, a dog and kids. But that shit isn’t gonna happen if you’re moping around like a sore little child who’s not getting enough love from daddy.”

“Plus,” I finish, “You have enough love with me as it is.”

He sighs, dropping his head down a placing a tiny kiss just over my bellybutton. He then rests his chin there, staring back up at me, “Yeah. I gotta get my shit together. I’m gonna. You’ll see. I’ll get it real tight together. Alright? I promise.”

I smile, “Good.”

“And I want all that with you.” He brings himself up, passing an arm around my neck and kissing my forehead. “The honest money, the houses, the cars, the boats, the dog and the kids. It won’t happen if you’re not the woman by my side, you know?”

“We’ll see Rafey, we’ll see.” I smile, wrapping my arm around his torso.

His head gets progressively heavier with each word he tries to mumble, and that’s how I know he’s fallen into a deep sleep. I adjust a bit so I’m comfortable enough to spend the night, and when I make sure he’s deep asleep, I tell him a secret, “I really want that too.”

———

We forgot to close the curtains last night, so the first rays of sunlight that enter the room are enough to wake me up. My phone says it’s 7:34, which means I probably have enough time to stop at home for a quick shower before heading to John B’s; I smell like alcohol that I didn’t even drink.

I get my shoes on and turn, seeing Rafe still blacked out from last night. I hop over to remove the hair stuck on his face, giving him a little kiss on the cheek and whispering “I love you” before heading out.

🔆

“You sure he got everything?” Kie’s voice welcomes me as I walk down the pathway to the Routledge’s dock.

“Every bar.” John B replies. “The whole enchilada. Ward came in and just took it all.”

“Wait, what?” My face turns into a frown. What are they even talking about?

John B grunts as he forcefully removes the cast from his arm. “Megs, it’s not like I expected a happy ending or some shit.”

“John B—” Kie tries,

“What, Kie?” He annoyedly drops, “It’s a hairline fracture. Who cares?”

“You should care. Your arm’s gonna be messed up for life.”

He raises it, staring out into the bluest sky, “It’s fine. See?”

Before anyone can argue, heavy footsteps approach with the sound of Pope’s voice, breathless from running down the pathway, “GUYS! GUYS!” We watch as he catches his breath, resting his hands on his knees, “Oh, oh. Oh my God, I ran all the way here.”

“You alright?” John B drags.

For the first time today, I hear JJ’s voice, “How was the interview, Pope?”

“Don’t ask.” Pope still can’t get the words out right. “JB, look, I’m sorry dude. About everything.”

“It’s fine.”

“But— But I don’t have a lot of time, and— and I have information that is tactically relevant. So, before I had my interview, my dad said that he was going down to the private airstrip to cut palms for Cameron’s big plane. Because it was too heavy, and it needed a longer landing strip to take off!”

“Oh,” The dots connect in my brain as Kie stares at me, “Rafe mentioned something about Ward taking Sarah on a trip to the Bahamas just last night.”

“Rafe?” JJ’s voice sounds again, now staring at me with eyes that don’t look too kind.

Pope rescues everyone from a potentially awkward situation, “So, I’m sitting there in my interview, thinking to myself ‘Huh. Why would Cameron need a longer airstrip to take off? What could be so heavy to weigh it down?’”

“Gold.” JJ states.

John B nods, “That’s right.”

Pope claps excitedly, in a weird way. He proudly points to the blond, “Exactly. Guys, this is our chance. But it leaves tonight, and we have to go.”

A smile forms on Kie’s face as she hops down from the ledge, “Guys, we can’t give up now.”

JJ shakes his head proudly, “What’s the plan, big man?”

🔆

“Can I bother you for a second?” I knock softly on Susan’s office door, her head instantly shooting up with a smile.

“What’s up, kid?” She nudges for me to take a seat in front of her. I turn to close the door behind me, appreciating how quickly it drowns the annoyingly repetitive clicking and beeping sounds from the station; also taking a second to appreciate how it makes officer Kevin’s voice disappear in the middle of yet another story about his kid in art class or something. Every single time someone visits around, he tells one again. Every single time.

I pull the chair and seat, smiling softly. “There’s actually nothing happening. It’s been a while since we’ve just hung out and I was like, really bored.” She scoffs, her mouth twitching just a bit at the sides. “Are you too busy?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. But,” She rests her elbows on the desk, crossing her fingers and narrowing her eyes, “I hear you’ve got gossip.”

“Oh, do you?!” A smirk grows on my face. I might never be able to tell her everything that I know about the people in this town, but a few little innocent gossips have proven to be a strong bonding experience for us. When Kie had her first kiss, Susan ordered takeout and made me tell her the smallest of details that I remembered. Now, whenever anything happens to anyone, I run to tell her. From the curious expression on her face, I can tell exactly what she wants to know about — she’d actually kill me if I didn’t tell her.

She huffs, rolling her eyes with the brightest smile on her face. “Oh, come on! I have the power to put you behind bars right now, kid.”

I shrug, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Keeping information from the law, sweetheart.”

It’s my turn to scoff, “And you are the law?!”

She points to the badge on her uniform before opening her arms widely and scanning the room, “I am the law.”

“Well, alright,” My smile widens, “But only because I don’t want this to go on my record.”

She lays back with a winning grin, allowing herself to relax for a bit.

“Sarah and John B are dating. And I think they probably did it last night.” Her mouth falls wide open and I watch as her expression turns to confusion.

“What— I thought they might be dating, but I assumed it was just very, very new!”

“It sorta is. But it’s like they’ve been married for fifty years, too. I don’t know. All I know is Sarah and John B suddenly couldn’t hang out with us last night.” I wink at her, who laughs, “And I think Sarah’s home but no one knows when they got back.”

“How’d you know she’s home?”

“Rafe told me.”

“Oh, right. Prince charming is still in the picture, then?”

“He called me this morning, said he missed my voice. I think I might stop by later to say hi.”

Her gaze softens as she stares at my flushed cheeks. “You really like this boy, don’t you, kid?”

“Yeah,” It comes out as a whisper through my smile, “He’s an asshole.”

“And yet…”

“And yet.”

She breathes out a gentle laugh. “Oh, my baby. You’re growing up too fast. Can I give you some advice?”

I nod. She continues, “Stop. Don’t grow. I don’t like it.”

A genuine loud laugh escapes me and I shake my head, “That’s not really advice, Suz.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Still true.” She sighs, “But, if you really like him, make sure to let him know. Don’t let him go, you know? At this age, your hormones are flyin’ all over the place and y’all don’t know how to keep it in your pants—”

“Susan.” I warn, “You are supposed to tell me to stay away from boys. You know that, right?!”

Her expression drops, “Would you listen?”

“No.”

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”

With a smile still plastered on my face,

I grab my totebag from the chair besides me and stand up, "Alright, I'm off before this turns into an incriminating conversation about myself. I'll see you at home?"

"Uh-huh," She nods, "You better run. I have questions." She sees me off with a warningly sweet smile, "I'll see you later, kid."

As I'm saying goodbye to Margaret at the front desk, I see Ward ignoring the officers asking him to slow down as he rushes to Susan's office, "You got a minute?"

I think he hasn't recognized me yet, so I take it as an opportunity to eavesdrop. Knowledge can't possibly hurt, right?!

I ask Margaret to excuse me and grab a plastic cup at the water filter, slowly filling it and taking small sips while staring at the wall,

"What happened to your arm?" I hear Susan say, and that's when I notice Ward is covering one of his biceps up with a bloody cloth. It looks like a mess. Wasn't he supposed to be with John B this morning?

"Goddamn Routledge kid." He mumbles out of breath. Shoupe shoots me a look, but simply nods and walks in, pretending not to have seen me.

"Uh, yeah, come on in." Susan says.

Shoupe closes the door behind them, and I am only able to make out a few words from there. It sounds like they're inside a fish bowl or something, for fuck's sake!

I manage to catch a few loose words like "He fires, at me, jet ski, home."

If memory serves me right, Ward and John B were supposed to go fishing this morning. And since he was with Sarah last night, I'm wondering if she has something to do with it?

My plan was to stop at Rafe's from here, but I'm heading directly to the Chateau instead; I figure Kie and Pope might be there already, trying to clean the mess JJ made last night.

🔆

"Feels good." Kie responds to Pope as I approach, seeing her inside a large tin barrel hung on a tree by a rope.

"What feels good?" I ask.

She smiles when I stop in front of Pope, "Getting the lights off the trees."

"Alright, I'm taking you down". Pope says, "Megs, a hand?"

"Yup." I move, dropping my bag on the ground and grabbing one end of the rope. I slowly bring it down, carefully dropping Kie as Pope reaches out by her waist and pulls her from the barrel.

"John B pullin' a Houdini." I hear the blond's voice coming from behind, as he lifts his feet off of the jacuzzy and places his beer bottle on the edge.

"Yeah, where is he?" Pope asks, "I got my scholarship interview tomorrow morning. We gotta get this done!"

John B passes with a somber look across his features, walking with purpose toward the porch without saying a word.

"Speak of the devil," JJ grins, "Hey!"

He continues, "Dude, I set up the entire winch to pull up the gold and everything."

"No, he did not," Pope objects, "I did that."

John B keeps walking, not a single expression thrown at us. As he pulls the door open, Kie calls, "John B?"

"Hey," Pope runs to JJ by the jacuzzi with a frown.

The dots between Ward's freakout at the station this morning, John B missing the whole night and this "fishing trip" that was supposed to take place today start connecting in my head, but I can't really see any sorts of answers. They all feel like important bits of information, but I don't think I have the connectors just yet. A barely audible "Huh" escapes my lips,

"Okay?" JJ nods at me, "That was it?"

"Uh..." Pope muses, "What's that all about?"

JJ stands up, nudging for us to head in, "I was gonna ask you the same question."

Inside, John B is frantically opening and slamming all drawers without stopping to even catch his breath,

“What are you even looking for?!” Kie is the first to break the deafening sounds of him almost breaking down the house.

No reply comes as he dashes by me over to the nightstand by the couch. JJ tries again, voice laced with concern, “Bro, what’s going on, man?”

John B lifts a pillow from the couch and pulls out a gun, hesitantly lifting it. My eyes widen as soon as my head is able to comprehend what’s happening, “What is that for?”

Kie and Pope mumble something similar, but are interrupted by JJ sprinting in the boy’s direction, “John B, what do you need the gun for, man?”

“TALK TO US!” The blond shouts as he wrestles John B to try and stop him from going out the door.

John B pushes him onto the couch,

“John B, CHILL!” Kie shouts.

Gun still in hand, John B sprints to the kitchen. Pope is blocking the way, which leads to him also getting aggressively shoved by the boy with no hesitation or remorse expressed in his face.

“Jesus,” Kie whispers, “Are you okay?”

I barely manage to see Pope nod back as I run out after John B screaming “What the hell are you doing?!”

But before the others make it out, he’s already hopped on the motorcycle and tries to rev the engines so many times in a row, it seems like the old cranky piece of tin might just explode on him.

“JOHN B WHAT THE HELL?!” Kie is brave enough to come closest to him. His face turns into a frazzled mess as he shouts,

“WARD KNOWS ABOUT THE GOLD.” He turns back, “He killed my dad.”

And he drives off. Not a word said, no explanation as to where he’s going, or how he found out, or anything at all; leaving us all dumbfounded and staring at each other with not a word to say. Put yourself in his place, right — dad is a manic, overly obsessed, OCD kind of guy; goes missing, you still hope he’s alive. Suddenly, you get a pretty girlfriend (dare I say prettiest of all), and her father is a raging money-centred maniac who, apparently, kills people. So you just lost you father and your hopes on the very same day. In his place, I’d be the exact same.

“No clue where he might go to?” Pope tries.

“Well,” I follow-up on my logic, “It’s about Ward, so… Sarah?”

“Yeah,” Kie mumbles, “Sarah.”

JJ moves as if to get the keys of the Twinkie, but Pope stops him with a quick move of the hand to his chest, “Not a good idea. It’s John B, he won’t do anything too irrational.”

Kie and I furrow our brows at the same time, “Uhm… Are we sure about that?”

“Like, 100% sure?”

“No,” Pope shrugs, “But maybe he’s playing the hero. You know, rescuing the helpless princess from her captivator. Something like that.”

“How does he even know Ward did it?” Kie asks.

JJ sits on the side door step, arms on his knees and hands rubbing all over his face trying to wipe the stress away, “I’m thinking that ‘fishing trip’ wasn’t so chill, man.”

“Alright,” I sigh, “Let’s not jump into conclusions. Maybe we wait until he comes back and try to get the full story. It could just be something he theorised in his head, you know…”

“…Like his dad used to.” Pope finishes the thought for me. The mere implication that we don’t fully believe in all of John B’s and Big John’s stories about wonders they discovered, or the everlasting list of people that were after them, is kind of offensive. But silently, we all seem to collectively agree that it’s common knowledge between us. I guess we try to protect his feelings way more than we even realize.

“No,” JJ shakes his head, “We are not standin’ by and letting him get fucked by himself. Alright, man? That’s not how we do shit. No Pogue left behind. That’s how we do shit.” He pauses, “I think he’s crazy too, sometimes. But fuck that, he’s our friend. Alright? So, dudes, with or without you, I’m going after him.”

Kie nods, “You’re right.”

Pope shoots me a defeated look, that instantly matches mine. Silently we hop on John B’s boat and let JJ take us to the Cameron’s Castle.

🔆

“What now,” JJ is the first to speak as we hide behind some bushes by the Cameron’s boat. “Do we knock on the door and say ‘Hey, have you seen John B?’”

I laugh, “It was your idea, genius.”

He shrugs, “I— I didn’t think it all the way through. Sometimes no plan is the best plan.”

“Look, he lives at Tannyhill now. It’s plausible.” Kie says, “We can play dumb!”

“It’s pretty late,” Pope counters.

“Look, I’ve never seen John B like that. We should honestly be going to the cops.” Kie says, worriedly.

“I feel like now is the right time to tell you guys this,” I blab out, “I was with Suz at the station earlier and Ward flew in like, covered in dry blood and smelling like shit. I got kicked out before I could hear anything but I did catch him saying something like ‘"Goddamn Routledge kid, jet ski, home, he fires, at me.’”

“You thought to tell us this now?” JJ poses with disbelief, “Megan. WHAT THE FUCK, man?!”

“Well I would’ve told you earlier but if memory serves me right, he broke into his own house and tore it upside down before we could, y’know, catch up on the goss’.”

He flips me off and turns his attention elsewhere, “What would we even say to the cops, Kie? That we’re worried about our friend because he’s going off on a rampage because Ward Cameron killed Big John? Like, they’re not gonna believe us!”

“Hey, I see Ward,” Pope interrupts the blond’s rant, staring through the house’s windows with binoculars.

“Let me see,” Kie moves.

“He doesn’t look dead to me,” Pope shrugs, “Let’s go home.”

A very confused “Huh?” escapes my lips.

“Yeah, wait,” JJ follows.

Kie turns around full-speed, with that face that could scare a serial killer off, “What?!”

“Uh... Okay.” Pope hesitantly replies, “Obviously Mr. Cameron is fine, and even if John B was here, he isn’t now, okay? Plus, I have the biggest, most important moment of my life in six hours.”

“Yeah, well, our friend is in trouble!” Kie spits.

“I’m in trouble!” He raises, “Guys, I haven’t been home in three days. My dad’s probably put all my shit on the street by now.”

“Okay so that’s it?” Kie shrugs, “In a time of need you’re just gonna bail? You’re just gonna walk away?”

JJ sighs, “Okay, yo, guys, can we not do this right now?”

“Hey, I have a scholarship interview in the morning. I can’t—” Pope completely ignores the blond.

Kie raises her voice, “Okay, well, WHAT ABOUT JOHN B?”

“Why’s it ALWAYS about John B?” Pope retorts.

JJ moves to sit at the bow of the boat, right by my side, and stares out into the deep. You can’t even see the horizon line dividing the water from the sky now, it’s all a pit of darkness. I find it terrifying, but kind of refreshing. He reaches out for my hand, in absolute distress and clearly trying not to break. I take it, caressing his skin very calmly. He doesn’t even look my way, but I feel him relax the tiniest little bit.

“It’s not ALWAYS about John B, you’re so stupid!” Kie aggressively gestures towards us, “It could be ANY of you guys in this situation—”

“Oh, bullshit,” He cuts her off.

“Guys—” JJ tries. I shake my head at him; I don’t want this continue any more than he does, but my gut tells me this has gone deeper for Pope than just rescuing a friend. It’s about Kie and John B and the hidden feelings he holds our for her since they met. Something I know all of them have shared, at some point.

“Bring it down.” He warns them regardless.

“This is about friendship.” She cries, “Look, this is about Pogues for life!”

“What about forensic pathology?” Pope doesn’t even blink. That’s how serious he is.

She’s taken aback for a moment, “FORENSIC PATHOLOGY?”

JJ covers his eyes with his free hand. I squeeze the other one a bit tighter, in a failed attempt to calm his anxiety down.

“It’s my life!” Pope argues, “It’s everything I’ve worked for!”

“That’s your priority?!”

“STOP with the ‘moral high ground’ bullshit!”

“Pope, come on,” I stand up, carefully letting go of JJ’s hand.

“No,” He interrupts, “No. She has no room to talk.”

JJ shakes his head, averting his gaze to the ground. We know where he’s gonna take this now and it ain’t gonna be pretty.

“Where were you when Big John went missing?” He says, inches away from her face. “You weren’t there. You weren’t there for John B. You weren’t there for any of us. Remember your Kook year?”

“Dude,” JJ warns as he fidgets with his cap.

“Yeah. You forgot about us.” He watches as she cries, “Now you feel guilty.”

“Give me a break,” She pushes him, “Is that what you need?!”

She keeps pushing him away with tears rolling down her eyes. He does nothing but shout, not even daring to push her back. I try to separate them but it doesn’t seem like enough, so JJ quickly gets in between them as I pull Kie back,

“Hey!” The blond shouts, “Yo, cut it out, alright?! If I’m the one mediating, we’ve hit rock bottom.”

Kie angrily pulls her arm away from my grip, whispering a hurried “I’m fine.”

I raise my hands up in defeat, taking a step back. JJ stares at Pope and instructs, “Bow. Now. Go.”

Kie sits on the opposite end of the boat. They look like two children grounded in their own corners, with me and JJ in the middle.

“We should move before other than Ward dies tonight.”

JJ nods at me, turning the engine on, “Pope, I’ll drop you off.”

🔆

18:03

sarah💞: hey, you won’t believe what happened

sarah💞: rafe and topper stopped us on the way home, like

sarah💞: rafe literally THREW his bike in front of us to make us stop

sarah💞: and he said we need to pay Barry back like yesterday

megs: what?!?!?)

megs: how does he even know???????

sarah💞: he showed his arm all fucked up because he was late on a payment

sarah💞: drugs i guess

megs: holy fuck. does he know it’s jj who did it?

sarah💞: don’t know. i think they think it’s john b and me

megs: oh

megs: are u guys ok? do u need anything?

sarah💞: all good, dw

sarah💞: just annoyed

megs: okay 😕 don’t let it get to you pls

megs: see you at the chateau later?

sarah💞: uhm i think we’ll take a raincheck on that

sarah💞: but john b says you’re more than welcome to still hang out. you got your keys?

megs: yeah, i do

megs: enjoy your alone time 😏

sarah💞: don’t even start

I giggle before turning my phone off and heading to the shower to get ready for tonight. I hate to admit it, but a part of me — the tiniest bit — hopes JJ will already be there with a beer in his hands and sorry eyes, but acting like nothing happened. That’s the kind of normalcy we all need.

I don’t know if Sarah told the others about what happened yet, but I know JJ will want to act on it. That’s why I think it’s so important that he’s back to normal already. Our group can’t work without each other’s balance; everyone needs to be involved. And for as dumb as JJ’s ideas usually are, his voice is usually the one who guides us. John B has the official title, but we all know who’s really responsible here.

But most of all, chills cover my skin when I think about how lonely he must feel now. And records show that when he feels lonely, he does things he’ll regret. Fighting with us was just the beginning, but there could be more. I just truly hope there isn’t.

🔆

Pope and Kie pick me up in his dad’s old truck. Before I even get in the car, he’s already rambling on about his college options and whatnot. He barely even greeted me when I opened the backseat door, leaving Kie to throw me an annoyed apologetic look with a soft smile. I can only laugh the whole ride through with how wonderfully busy this boy’s brain is at all times.

When we get closer to the water, I tune off for a bit and focus on the views surrounding my window. The dark of the night is slowly rising up, making the very last rays of sunlight fade into the water ahead. The whole town is quiet, with people driving home from work or just resting after a long day by the beach. Some of them are on their porches napping, while others read a book as the evening breeze cruises past them. We even passed by two kids playing chess, and I noticed how worn out they both were — two kids at the end of a summer day. A nostalgic feeling hits my chest and brings a smile to my face. Human beings are wonderful, I think. We’re so simple, yet we complicate ourselves; like Pope is doing right now.

“…so we gotta be done before my scholarship interview in the morning.” His voice brings me back to reality as he pulls up in front of John B’s empty house.

Kie smiles softly, “Okay, well, we gotta focus.”

“I know, I know. It’s gonna be fine.” He opens the door and hops down, waiting until Kie and I do the same to lock the car. “We got John B and JJ inside the well, and me up top. And you two and Sarah will be outside transporting.”

“Yeah, we got this.”

“Cool.”

“Hey.” He pulls me into a side hug, smiling.

I laugh, “Oh, so you do know I’m here!”

“Haha, very funny.” He heads to the trunk, “Uh, I got a winch.”

“Yeah?” We do the same, inspecting all the gadgets he placed inside of it.

“That tin can hold over like, 200, 300 pounds!” I lower the trunk’s door as Kie smiles in amusement.

Her smile widens and a soft sigh escapes her lips. “Thanks.”

“Uh, what for?” He asks.

She shrugs, “Stranding us. You know, making us make up.”

He smiles, holding all his focus towards her. His eyes shine a bit brighter with the unexpected compliment, and I can’t help but look away uncomfortably. This might be getting a bit personal, so I move to inspect a tree in front of me.

“What makes you think it was me?” I hear him say. Even though I’m not looking, the tone of his voice tells me all I need to know — he’s smiling. He’s been doing that a lot lately; only when he’s around Kie. Interesting!

Just as I notice some bubble lights hung between the branches of this not-so-tall tree, a whirring sound takes over and all the lights turn on. Moving my head around, I notice that almost all the trees have them — even the porch ceiling has them.

All of our expressions immediately turn into confusion, and Pope is the first to ask, “What the hell?”

“Who the hell is that?” Kie starts walking to the side of the house, Pope and I following closely behind on her heels.

The colorful lights — red, yellow, blue, white and green — cover up all the space above the ground, hung up on trees and on any available space around them. Right at the center of these LED lights, there’s a fancy hot tub with a shirtless JJ inside. There are little floaties shaped like flamingoes carrying champagne glasses — all empty, might I add — and bubbles all around him. With sunglasses on at night, he makes a peace sign when he sees us.

My brows furrow in both confusion and pity at the sight. He looks surrounded by useless shit, completely alone and quite pathetic. He used Barry’s money for this.

So there was something more than just fighting with us. Even with all the worry in my heart, I can’t bring the tears to my eyes like Kie’s have. For some reason, it just doesn’t happen. I think I’m actually tired. Just plainly exhausted.

Pope’s mouth is agape when he asks, “What did you do, JJ?”

“I got a jet goin’ straight in my butt right now.” He laughs, holding the champagne bottle up and filling half a cup, “Y’all should get in immediately, you hear me? Salud!”

Half of the liquid he poured ends up in the water. His voice drags each word very slowly, showing just how drunk he really is. He pouts, bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking straight from it.

“How much did this cost?” Pope asks again.

“Uhhh,” He moves his hands around frantically, “Well, with the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery… Pretty much all of it, yeah.”

Pope’s eyes widen, “All of it?”

“All of it, yeah.” The blond nods.

“You spent all the money in one day?”

“Yeah, burned a hole right through my pocket.” He brings his tone up, smiling, “But I mean like, come on guys, like, look at this! Finest in jet-based massage therapy, that’s what they told me.”

I’ve already averted my gaze long ago. I don’t have the will to look at him any longer; but Kie stares in shock, not able to mutter a single word.

“Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?!” He shouts, “Come on. All this scrimpin’ and scrapin’…”

He removes his glasses, voice trembling as he’s about to cry. My eyes shoot up at him, with anger and worry. He lets a tear down, “I mean like, guys… We— you only live once, right?”

He laughs to himself, “Enough of this emotional shit, get in the Cat’s Ass. Come on!”

“In the what?” Kie’s voice comes out so quiet it’s almost hard to hear it.

“In the Cat’s Ass.” He smiles proudly, “That’s what I named her.”

“Oh, hey, yo,” He calls out when he gets no response from us, “I almost forgot!”

He flips a switch on the side of the tub, turning on two faucets that cross each other and make sort of a mini fountain. With it, the lights inside the tub start to change colors, like they would in a club.

“Huh?” His smile widens as he starts to move his hips up and down, “Yeah, that’s right. I know. Disco mode! That’s right, baby!”

He shifts his eyes between the three of us, standing uncomfortably in front of him. He opens his arms wide and nods his head repeatedly, as if this is something we should be celebrating him for. I shake my head, unable to feel anything other than disappointment right now.

“Are you kidding me?!” Pope finally explodes, making the blond’s smile quickly fade away. “You could’ve paid for restitution!”

“Or literally given it to any charity!” Kie adds.

“Or better yet, you could’ve helped buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!” Pope continues to shout. JJ brings his fingers to his temple, pinching it slightly in annoyance and taking a deep breath.

“OKAY, WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT? I DIDN’T DO THAT!” He shoots up from his seat, revealing his entire body covered in bruises. Some still swollen and red, some purple. All of them brand new, shaped like fists all around his ribcage.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, bringing a hand up to my mouth in shock. Did Luke do this to him? Did his own father do this to him again?

“I GOT A HOT TUB!” He cries out loud, “For my friends. I got a hot tub for my friends. You know what? No. You know what?! Screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family!”

“JJ, what the hell?” Kie’s eyes haven’t left his body since he stood up, mapping out every single one of his bruises.

“I got this for you! Guys, look what I did for you! Alright?!” He turns around, frantically gesturing to everything surrounding us, “Look at this. Look at this!”

Kie shakes her head, tears falling freely from her eyes, “JJ,”

“No, you stop being emotional, it’s fine! Okay?” He cuts her off, “I mean it’s sweet, right? Everything— Just get in—”

His voice breaks, making it the final straw for Kie. She jumps inside the tub, ignoring every single one of his words and pulling him into her arms. He wraps his arms around her waist, putting all of his weight on her and sobbing. “I just couldn’t do it.” He cries.

She holds him steady as all of the hurt in his heart falls from his eyes. I stare blankly at the scene, holding myself back from hopping back on that truck and running to the police station myself to report on Luke. I feel frozen, like I can’t move. I’ve been seeing this for too many years now and I have done nothing about it. Now look at it. Look at him.

“I can’t take him anymore.” He shouts, making Kie pull him even closer. “I was gonna kill him. I was—”

When those words come out of his mouth, I lose it. The numbness I had been feeling turns to anger, and my brain tells me to move. But as it does, I realize I can’t. I can’t move. I can’t take my eyes off of the scene in front of me. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I be like Kie and hold him? What is wrong with me?

Pope hops on the tub with them, wrapping his arms around the two and holding them tight. JJ shoots me a sad look, “I just wanna do the right thing.” He cries, the light in his light blue eyes fading away with each hurtful memory he thinks of.

🔆

We drove back to Kie’s restaurant after we found ourselves unable to separate. I think we feel like we need to stick together, otherwise we might break for good. Having a gun pulled at us, almost being robbed and then fighting with JJ got everyone so hard we all felt the need to be here. We need each other’s energies.

Except the energy I coming from us right now is just plain dead. We thought about breaking apart to chill, but clearly none of us could get our minds off of it all; so we’re all here. All of us, except for him.

I pull a chair besides Sarah, greeting her with a sad smile and a comforting hand on her shoulder. She reciprocates the gesture, placing her hand over mine and caressing it lightly.

“Listen, if you guys won’t say it I will,” John B starts, “Look, he’ll come around, alright? It’s— He’s doing a JJ thing.”

JJ does these things. He gets so into his convictions, nothing in the world is able to deter him from whatever it is he set his mind to. I’ve always seen that as a 50/50 thing — good because he usually manages to get what he wants, but bad because he usually also has to pay the consequences of it. Or we all do, which is even worse. So maybe it’s a 40/60 kinda thing.

It’s not the first time he’s unexpectedly broken apart from the group. I’d risk saying it’s his monthly cry for help — he needs the attention and affirmations he never got from home, so he does the only thing he knows how to do to ask for it; he fights. One time, he and John B got so into an argument about how to deal with Kie’s parents snooping into our business that he simply shot up from his hammock, pinned John B against the porch’s side door and left mumbling about being all alone. That's usually how it ends, with him saying those things; but he always comes back the next day and apologizes after coming to his senses.

When we were younger, Kie and I would take turns on the nights when there were arguments to try and ask him to come back. It worked, most times, until he started fighting with us too. He started to shout saying he wasn’t a child and didn't need to be babysat, and would ask (very rudely, might I add) for us to leave. Agree to disagree, we thought, but respected his wishes and stopped chasing after him.

I learned that letting him cool off on his own before trying to reach out is for the best; but Kie sometimes says that she struggles with that. She feels bad for him and wants to fix the situation as soon as possible, but she tries to hold herself back so it doesn’t get any worse. I understand, given that I also feel it sometimes, but she really has a harder time coping with it. I’m starting to think she might be right.

“You think he went home?” She asks, stoically staring at the table in front of us.

Pope stares out the window, his eyes glued to the view of greenery in front of him. He’s the one who answers Kie’s question, “There’s about a zero percent chance that JJ went home.”

John B shoots Sarah a look, eyes lightly dropping with worry when he sees how pale she is. “You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” She nods, faking a smile, “Are you?”

He shrugs, “I mean, I’m in one piece, so…”

She nods again, and I notice her gaze quickly lowering to his broken wrist. She turns to look at the ground, visibly not agreeing with the boy but too uncomfortable to say anything. Or maybe she just doesn’t have the energy to, which I completely understand.

“Okay,” Pope sighs and turns to us, “It’s too dangerous to pawn this thing off piecemeal. So, our best bet is to go down there and get the rest of it. Bring it all up at once, put it in— in a safe, or a vault, or something. I— I don’t know. Just until we can find someone who won’t rip us off.”

Considering it, it’s not such a bad idea at all. Undoubtedly the most reasonable course of action. John B seems to share my thoughts, his brown eyes glued to Pope.

This seems to give Pope enough fuel to continue, “I can figure it all tonight, get it done, and we can be out there as early as tomorrow morning.”

John B nods, “Alright, let’s do it.”

“Easy.” Pope agrees.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” John B confirms again.

Sarah lays back on her chair, turning to him, “What about that thing with my dad?”

His head falls between his hands almost immediately, “Shit.”

“What thing?” I ask.

“I have to go fishing.” He explains, “With Ward.”

My brows perk up with curiosity. How did he get trapped into this situation? And man, what I would give to be a little fly on the wall of that boat to hear whatever it is they’re gonna talk about. A grin creeps from the side of my lips, but quickly fades away when I notice Kie’s frown.

“You can’t get four hundred mil ‘cause you’re gonna go kill fish?” She asks.

“Look, I have to go.” He sighs.

“Blow it off.” Pope insists, “It’s four hundred million in gold!”

“Make something up!” Kie follows.

Sarah sits silently, watching the boy’s every move with a hint of expectation in her eyes. He lifts his head to us again, “Look, I— I have to. Okay?! He— he saved me, alright?” She smiles softly at his words. This must mean a lot for her, that her dad and her Pogue boyfriend get along.

“If it weren’t for Ward, I’d be in foster care. So, I have to go. Plus, it’ll be better to do at night.” He concludes, “Right?”

I shrug, but nod once. Pope’s shoulders drop in surrender as he sighs, “Fine. Fine, go fishing.”

Kie nods, “And at least JJ will probably have washed up by then.”

“Alright.” I nod again, “What now?”

Kie sighs, “We need to rest.”

“And I need to do some research.” Pope follows.

“We could meet up tonight.” I suggest, and they nod. Once they all stand up, I shut my eyes for a second trying to not get overwhelmed by emotions. John B gently nudges my arm, making sure I’m okay. I smile softly, and he nods once again.

🔆

“You never told me how things ended with your job search at the club.” Susan opens a can of soda and lifts her feet up on the coffee table, leaning back and relaxing after probably another draining day at work. She’s been taking the night shift to help a colleague who lost their parents in an accord that, meaning that she gets home early morning and sleeps until around 4pm. Except, today, she only got home now. Midafternoon, after me. She must be exhausted.

“Oh, right,” I reply, “I had to leave early and forgot to talk to them. There was that thing where Topper beat Pope, remember?” She nods, “I was there and helped him get cleaned up.”

She raises her eyebrows fiercely, “So you bailed on ‘em.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily put it that way.” A cheeky grin takes over my face, “I’d say I was a hero like you and helped the weaklings in need.”

“Kid—” Her expression drops, but quickly falters into a smile and she sighs in defeat. “You are too damn smart for your own good.”

“Learned it from the best.”

I sigh, dropping my body next to hers on the couch and staring up at the ceiling. When I was a kid, still living with my biological mom, I used to look up and count the cracks I could see in the woods; but here there are none. There are absolutely zero cracks — everything is perfectly taken care of. Every little corner of this house has been closely orchestrated by Susan in order to make it feel like a home for us.

Little does she know, she’s our home. We could go back to living at the Cut and it still wouldn’t make a difference, as long as we had her.

“You usually talk my damn ears off, kid.” She breathes out a laugh, “What’s goin’ on in that witty mind of yours, huh?”

I keep staring at the ceiling, trying to find a single flaw in it. Nothing.

“There are no cracks on the ceiling.”

She laughs softly, “Well, I sure do hope so.”

“We used to have lots of cracks.” I smile, “JJ told me, one time, they were my own little constellations. A perfect night sky made just for me. When I asked if Kitty owned it too, he said no. He said that Kitty can have another thing, but this specific one was just mine.”

She turns her body in my direction, removing her feet from the coffee table and setting them behind her on the couch. Her brows are furrowed, probably confused with what made me come up with this topic so randomly. Before any questions are asked, I continue,

“I liked it. There wasn’t much I liked about our house, or our life in general. But I liked my own personal Milky Way. But with time, things got harder and the cracks on the ceiling started to feel like just cracks on the ceiling. No stars, no constellations, no comfort. But one thing never changed.”

“What’s that?” She asks, voice as soft as only a loving mothers could be.

“JJ was still there. JJ was the one who created the magic in the first place. Did you know that we met when he made Kitty laugh for the first time?” I laugh fondly at the memory.

She smiles, “Sounds like Maybank.”

“Yeah. That was the night my father left, too. Still, JJ never let me lose hope.” Her eyes turn watery, as if a tear is threatening to fall at any moment. “I’m sorry, a-are you—“

“No, please,” She shakes her head, “Don’t stop.”

“You sure?”

She runs a gentle hand through my hair, “One thousand percent, darlin’.”

I nod softly, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Well, in conclusion — JJ was my magic. I think it’s because he sees my hopes slowly fading away more and more as time goes by, that he can’t really support John B on the hunt for his dad. He doesn’t want to be the reason someone else has their expectations so high for something that just might never happen.”

I let myself take another deep breath, watching as she nods repeatedly. “Still, he’s always been here.” I finish.

“So I take it you and the boy had a fight, ‘that it?” She continues to caress my head, gently showing her affection through her loving touch.

“Always, yeah.” She laughs at my response, “But this time, it was him vs everyone else — including me. I let him go off on his own. He would’ve never done that to me.”

“You were hurt, baby. No, you are hurt.” I nod, my vision blurring with tears just like hers, “Now, I ain’t got a clue what the hell y’all were fighting about this time, but I can see how upset it makes you. And sure as the sun comes up tomorrow mornin’, y’all will figure it out.”

She hands me her soda, nudging me to take a sip. As I do so, she continues, “Y’all always do. Most important thing ‘o the matter is — y’all do it together. I’m sure it’ll be fine soon.”