Chapter Text
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CHAPTER SIX
-o-
In crisis, shit went down. JJ knew that. He’d been in enough of them; shit, he’d caused enough of them. It was usually every man for himself, because – well, yeah.
It wasn’t that JJ actually thought this was different.
Except that he kind of thought this was different.
Apples and trees, and all that shit. Chandler Groff was his father. JJ was his long lost son. They’d bonded, right? Groff had acknowledged him; they’d shared their feelings. They’d cemented it: apples and trees.
So when shit went down, JJ looked to make sure Groff was okay.
Groff, however, was already on his way out. Pushing through the men, Groff was already jumping clear. He didn’t look back for JJ – not once.
JJ was on his own. On a burning boat with armed, angry men.
So, that was good.
It was time to bail.
It had been time to bail a long time ago, honestly. But with shit going down, the pickings were slim. Following Groff off the boat wasn’t an option. There were too many men, and too many of them were armed. He moved back, decking one of them as he tripped over his own feet, and turning down the side of the deck.
More men were coming, and JJ hissed. He opened the first door he could find, ducking inside and moving as fast as he could. He’d been on boats all his life, so guessing the layout wasn’t hard, but moving through the corridors was easier said than done when every corner he turned had an armed guard who looked pissed to see him. He didn’t stop to think about it. All it would take was one gunshot, and he was done for, but JJ knew how to live like Luke Maybank. You took the risk until it ran out.
You just did.
He scaled a set of stairs, darting his way through. Heart hammering, he searched for an exit, skittering away as more voices approached. Someone came at him with a machete – which, what the hell – and he took out another one with a headbutt that left him seeing stars. He reeled, trying to get his bearings.
But then – he heard it.
A familiar voice.
The best voice.
“JJ?”
John B.
Groff had left him. But John B?
John B had come for him.
“John B!”
Did anything else matter? Well, yes. A lot of things mattered. There were a lot of questions JJ would have to answer. There was a lot of blame JJ would have to contend with. There were the cops, and everything he’d cost his friends in the last 24 hours.
A lot of shit mattered.
But right now? This exact moment?
It was just JJ and John B.
That was how it had all started.
Hell, yeah, that was still how it ended.
JJ ran, changing course instinctually. He slammed his way through a few more men, scaling up the stairs. The sound of the fighting didn’t bode well in John B’s favor.
John B wasn’t much of a fighter. Really, he wasn’t much of a planner either. He was a leader, good at rallying shit, and he could put clues together even if he couldn’t figure out how to make anything happen.
Simply put, on his own, John B was a mess. He knew it, even if he hid it well. All the times he got pissed at JJ for his half-baked ideas, and he had no room to talk. JJ had ideas at least. All John B had was a desperate need and no viable means to attain it.
JJ made things happen. John B made sure they didn’t die.
Together, they made a pretty good team.
Of course, when guns were being fired and flames were burning all around them, he had to think that bar was a little too low. But if it was all he had, then it was all he had.
After losing his fortune, after losing his home, after probably losing his freedom – yeah. This was all he had.
His best friend and a pisspoor getaway plan, and the rest of his friends waiting in the getaway boat. Would it work? Who knew. Should it work? Probably not.
But were they going to do it?
Oh, hell, yes.
JJ didn’t need him to say anything. They didn’t have to discuss it. They didn’t have to ask questions or give explanations. The second they made eye contact, it all fell into place. They just knew. They barely shared a single brain cell between the two of them, but share it – they did.
They had always made it work.
That was the sort of stupid invincibility that made you think it always would.
It didn’t matter.
The posturing, the thinking, the hand-wringing. It was all bullshit.
All that mattered was finding John B.
And getting the hell off this boat.
Together.
-o-
It was starting to feel a little bit like a mistake, if John B were being honest. There were too many men – they were far too armed – and he didn’t know where he was going or what he was doing. The mere idea that he might survive this ordeal was getting harder and harder to imagine – much less how he was going to get all his friends back to the OBX in one piece and somehow – miraculously – get both Pope and JJ from serving actual time.
Oh, and saving Poguelandia.
That was what started this, and John B was starting to think that was a moot point now. Like he might have to concede their home and livelihood – for the mere sake of trying to salvage anything.
Everyone thought they were impulsive. Everyone knew JJ was reckless.
But John B knew it wasn’t that simple.
JJ was in survival mode.
And when JJ was in survival mode, all bets were off. All bets for moderation. All bets for reason and logic. When JJ wasn’t sure he would get tomorrow, he would burn today to the ground, no questions asked.
It was dumb, and John B knew it.
He also knew there was no other choice. The Kooks in this town loved to back them against the wall, push them into the corner, and then act surprised when they came out swinging.
JJ got stupid like that. He got even stupider when Luke was involved.
What would he do with Groff? This long lost father?
What would he do then?
Well, John B was going to find out.
He slammed into another man, grappling helplessly as he tried to get the upper hand. He grunted, skittering across the floor as a blow caught him. He jerked up, catching the man and driving him down.
Once he found JJ and got him out of here.
Light the fire. Take the shot.
You couldn’t pull your punches.
You had to risk it all.
Unfortunately, that meant you lost it sometimes. Which, you would think they knew by now. But still, when John B found the galley occupied, he was left scrambling. One hit with the refrigerator took a guy down, but it didn’t last. He was back up, and coming at John B, and to be frank, John B wasn’t much of a fighter. He’d only kicked Topper’s ass by blindsiding him, and all the years he and JJ had spent fighting the Kooks – was mostly years getting their asses kicked.
The man hit him, sending him down. He scrambled, trying to get back on his feet, but the man caught him first. Locking his arms around his neck and starting to squeeze.
He panicked, flailing as he tried to pull free. He reared back, ready to punch.
Wild, blonde hair. Terrified blue eyes.
Hands up.
JJ.
He exhaled, feeling relief flood over him for the first time in 24 hours.
He’d finally found JJ.
He could get JJ home. He could figure out the shit with the cops. They could buy more time for Poguelandia. They could get Pope out of jail. Now that they had JJ, it was going to be okay.
John B told himself that one more time.
It was going to be okay.
-o-
Finding John B was what JJ needed. Forget apples and trees. Try best friends.
Leading them up the stairs, JJ was close behind. Whatever plan John B had was better than the one JJ had – which was to say none at all. JJ had nothing. He was making shit up as he went along, and honestly, it was surprising he wasn’t dead already. It would probably be easier if he was, but–
Yeah. Not now. This wasn’t the time or place.
Ducking back through the hallways, JJ found the machete from earlier and figured – why not. It wasn’t a gun – but it would do in a pinch.
They were in more than a pinch, so–
JJ wasn’t going to be dead weight. Yeah, this was a rescue mission. His friends had come for him.
But JJ?
Had screwed shit up enough. He wasn’t about to play damsel in distress here.
He started this.
He could finish it.
Because apples and trees?
There was still something to it, if JJ was being honest.
Groff wanted a treasure.
JJ, though, had no qualms finding it first.
With that in mind, he did the only sensible thing. Something Groff would do. Hell, something Luke would do.
He circled back, back to the room. It was still there, where he’d seen it before. The scroll.
In the fallout, the damn thing had been left unattended, apparently forgotten on the table. All JJ had to do was snatch it, take it with him.
Would these mercs be unhappy?
Given their reaction to Groff, yeah. They would be pissed.
But they’d already tried to kill JJ several times.
And also, the Pogues had technically found the scroll first.
It was part of JJ’s birthright.
And whatever. He needed something to make this whole shitshow worthwhile.
Teeth gritted together, he grabbed it.
He grabbed it.
It wasn’t like Dalia was a saint. Her honor among thieves spiel was nice and all, but it was clear those guns on her men weren’t for show. It wasn’t like she hadn’t stolen it first. And to be fair, they had kidnapped him. This shit? It was restitution. Pain and suffering shit.
Mostly, though, it was his only way to get them back in the hunt. And maybe, just maybe, he could salvage something for his friends.
Because JJ had lost so much for them.
It was time to give back.
He clutched the scroll tight, heart thundering as he followed John B up and out of the cabin. The air outside was cool and crisp, but the goosebumps on his skin had broken out well before he stepped back out.
He would make this right for them.
Any way he could.
-o-
Taking the Pogue around, circling her through the waters in a holding pattern – well, that seemed about right.
That was how it was, right? Especially when JJ was concerned.
You had to wait for him to get his shit together.
You could come close – and then you had to give him space.
Just when you thought you had it, you were circling back to the start, looking for him all over again.
After 18 months together, it felt like she was right back where she started, trying to keep the boy she loved from imploding.
She’d pulled it off that time.
Barely.
She had to hope she could do it again.
Because hey – at least there were no overpasses for him to drive off of this time.
“That’s far enough,” Sarah said, jerking her head back to the boat. “We can’t get too far away.”
Kiara grunted, turning the controls sharply. “Yeah, but we also can’t sit too close,” she said. “If we go down–”
“I don’t care!” Sarah yelled. “I’m not going to leave my boyfriend on a boat full of angry men with guns! Are you?”
Kiara raised her brows at Sarah, even as she navigated back. “Are those pregnancy hormones kicking in?”
Sarah flipped her off. “My boyfriend is in danger because of yours,” she said snidely. “So shut up and drive.”
That was a point, Kiara decided, she couldn’t argue with.
She circled them back around, face set as they made another run.
-o-
The plan had always been to find JJ and get him off the boat.
Simple, right?
The armed men, the boat on fire – acceptable complications.
But now that he was standing there, at the top of the boat, looking down at the water, he had some trepidations. Because shit that was a long way to fall.
He did the mental calculations, trying to consider how deep it might be. A boat this size – with this height – would need a lot of clearance, so they couldn’t be too shallow. This high up – the force going down – they probably wouldn’t hit bottom and die.
Probably.
Of course, the force of the water – from this height?
That shit was going to hurt like hell.
He looked at JJ, who was having the same mental calculations.
But behind them, the men were closing in again.
They were out of time.
Hell, they’d been out of time before this started. This whole thing was borrowed time.
He looked at JJ, expecting to see him, ready to go.
But JJ was pale, face pinched. He eyed the water, and for the first time ever, John B saw his best friend hesitate.
Nothing to lose, no more.
Everything to lose.
Something inside JJ had changed. Since the race, since the town council. Since the riots, since Groff.
The JJ he came to rescue.
Wasn’t the JJ he was bringing home.
But what else could he do?
He nodded at JJ, who nodded back grimly.
What else could they possibly do?
-o-
JJ had always told his friends – belabored the point, honestly – you didn’t need to think. Thinking was pointless when you had a plan. Thinking just slowed you down. Thinking made you second-guess shit. Thinking was the thing that held you back when you needed to just move ahead. No thinking.
What good did it do? To think about the limitations of your plan? To think about the limitations of your whole damn life?
It didn’t help to think about how much you had to lose or how little you had to work with. It didn’t help to think about the paper thin margin between success and failure or about how little success would mean anything anyway.
None of it mattered.
None of it had ever mattered.
Because when JJ was just a baby, his father had dropped him off with an unqualified stranger. When he was six, Luke balled his fist up for the first time and hit him against the face. It was just a few weeks ago, JJ’s friends had laid him bare, told him it was all his fault, and been forced to tolerate him ever since.
None of them had to think about it. Not Groff, not Luke. Not his friends.
None of them thought about how little JJ meant before they washed their hands of him. His friends hadn’t been pushed that far yet, but it was just a matter of time.
Why would JJ think about that?
Why would JJ think about anything?
If he stayed here, he was going to die. Dalia and her men – they were going to kill him, and Groff wasn’t going to save him.
If he went with the Pogues, he could carry that relationship as far as it would take him, until he ruined that, too, burned it down just like everything else.
If he thought about it, staying here made sense. If he thought about it, it was easier to be done.
If he thought about it–
John B looked at him, eyes wide and pleading.
JJ shut it down. Shut down his thoughts, shut it all down.
John B came for him.
The Pogues came for him.
If he could put off the inevitable – just a little longer – then, okay. He wouldn’t dwell.
And, without another thought, he jumped off the edge of the boat, side by side with his best friend.
-o-
Finally.
Kiara saw John B at the top of the boat, JJ right beside him. She felt it, the slightest bit of relief, as they shared a look.
It was stupid to jump — too high, too much gunfire, too little escape — but it was stupider to stay. Kiara had dated JJ long enough to know how this worked. The choices you regretted were the ones you didn’t take. The only unforgivable thing was ceding control, of course JJ was going to jump.
She saw him, though. She saw him hesitate.
Like she was confessing her love. Like he wanted to etch a sketch it. Like he had her dad’s money clip and he couldn’t say shit about it.
JJ only hesitated when it was something he wanted.
JJ only hesitated when it was something he needed.
So why was he hesitating now? When all they wanted was to rescue him? Had he lost that much in the last 24 hours? Had he lost his confidence that they loved him? Had he lost his confidence that he belonged with them?
“Come on!” Sarah yelled, tugging the controls. “We don’t have much time—”
They veered back, making their loop toward the boat. More men were in the water, and there was yelling. A stray gunshot, but it was far off.
It scared her.
Not that JJ was in danger. No, she was used to that.
That he might not save himself.
That he might not take her hand when she offered it to him.
The Kooks took Poguelandia, but it was more than that. It was more than a business or a home. It was their identity. It was who JJ was. It was all he had, all he was. To lose it, was to lose everything.
Luke and Groff. The Genrettes and the Pogues.
JJ stood on top of the boat, and he looked just like the boy she’d fallen in love with.
And nothing like him all the same.
“JJ!” she screamed, voice lost in the melee. “Please!”
And JJ, thankfully, finally, made the leap.
-o-
Well, Sarah thought as she watched John B jump in the water – JJ just a beat behind him – at least this was progress.
Really, she loved being a Pogue. She did.
There was just something in the art of aiming low.
Like, really low.
Like as long as they were alive, that was victory. That kind of low.
Because yes, she was pregnant and soon to be homeless.
But at least her baby’s father and uncle weren’t dead. Yet.
The chaos on the boat was still unfolding, and honestly, the night was young.
“Come on,” she yelled to Kiara, getting the boat into position as John B and JJ swam toward them. “Come on!”
They were good swimmers at least, and the men on the boat seemed to have enough going on that stopping them wasn’t their primary concern currently. Apparently setting the boat on fire had been a brilliant idea. She wasn’t about to admit it; the last thing she needed was for it to go to John B’s head.
John B had half pulled himself up by the time Sarah got there, yanking him up and over. He hit the deck hard, water splattering around him while he panted. He scrambled back to his feet, leaning over to extend his hand to JJ. JJ held up what he was holding first – and Sarah took it – while John B hoisted him up – yanking him clear over the edge until they both crashed onto the deck in a wet, sopping mess.
“Go,” John B gasped, looking at her. “Go!”
Sarah blinked, still trying to make sense of it. The case in her hand. John B’s tense voice. The vacant look in JJ’s eyes.
“Oh, shit,” Kiara said from the controls. “We need to go!”
And it was all Sarah could do to brace herself as they took off, speeding off without reserve now and no pretense of stealth. John B flopped back down, clearly exhausted. JJ hadn’t gotten up at all.
“What is this?” she asked, looking at the case again.
“The map,” JJ said, eyes closed and his head tipped back as he caught his breath. “The one you and Pope almost had. The map.”
The map, she thought.
The treasure.
“Shit,” she said. She gaped it at – and then at John B. “Really?”
He shrugged, like he had no idea.
But JJ nodded, looking at her with exhaustion. “Consider it my penance,” he said.
Her stomach dropped a little.
John B frowned. “JJ, that’s not–”
JJ shook his head now, letting his eyes close again. “You shouldn’t have come–”
“Of course we were coming,” John B said. “We’ve been worried sick.”
Sarah sat down next to them, on her knees. “You know how this works. You taught us.”
He grimaced, looking at her once more. “This is my fault,” he said. He looked from her to John B, lips twisted in a smile so rueful that it looked painful. “I got to do something, don’t I? To earn my way back to you all.”
“JJ,” she said, voice catching. “That’s not – that isn’t–”
He shook his head, staggering to his feet. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, brushing past her for the front of the boat. “I got it, didn’t I?”
She watched him, her heart sinking. She looked at the item in her hand, and then looked at John B. He was pale, face drawn in the night. “We got him back, at least,” he murmured, getting to his feet and pausing next to her. He looked at the container she was holding, and then kissed her. “At least we got him back.”
Then, he brushed by her, too, to join JJ at the stern.
It was hard to imagine, then. Fighting for her baby’s future.
When she couldn’t even be sure about theirs.
But what choice did she have?
She moved toward the controls, to stand next to Kie, watching the boys in the night in front of them.
What choice did any of them have now?
-o-
It had been a long trip out to Goat Island.
Somehow, even after finding JJ and getting him out safely, it felt longer back. The weight of everything was piling up, after all. And OBX wasn’t a refuge. JJ was a wanted man; their home was as good as gone. Pope might still be in jail, for all he knew. They had to face that, sooner rather than later.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it, was it?
Standing at the front of the boat, John B pressed closer to JJ. He hesitated at his side, coming shoulder to shoulder with him for several long moments as Goat Island receded into the distance behind them, and the distant shores of the OBX came into view.
The night was growing dark; the waters were choppy. The cool air felt sharp against his wet skin, and John B knew he couldn’t avoid this forever.
“Is it true, then?” he asked.
JJ glanced at him, nose wrinkled. “The map? Yeah, I think,” he said. “That’s what everyone’s fighting over anyway. It’s the next step to the treasure.”
JJ was still thinking about how he could fix things.
Looking at him now, John B just wondered if there was enough to fix JJ.
He sighed. “Not the treasure,” he said. And he paused, taking a deep breath before he finally just said it. “Groff.”
JJ went still – horribly and painfully, like he was braced for something. JJ’s sense of fight or flight was well honed and overly developed. It hurt to watch him like that, a deer in the headlights, ready to spook or get creamed.
“Kie told us,” John B admitted softly, laying his cards on the table.
JJ swallowed, visibly suppressing a shudder. “Oh,” he said, and he nodded. Once and then twice as his jaw worked.
He waited, giving JJ a chance to continue, but when no answer came, John B pressed anyway. “So?” he said. “Is it?”
JJ nodded quickly, brow furrowing deeply. “Yeah,” he said, nodding again. “Yeah, it is.”
He looked at John B, and even in the growing dark, John B could see just how haunted JJ’s eyes were.
“Groff’s my father,” he said. “Larissa Genrette was my mother.”
The admission was so plaintive, so matter of fact.
It almost didn’t sound as overwhelming as it was.
It upended everything JJ had ever known about himself, everything he thought he knew. It changed his entire life story.
And John B wasn’t sure if that was for the better or for the worse.
Because Luke Maybank was a God-awful parent, it was true.
But Groff? Larissa Genrette?
How did any of it make sense? How did JJ end up with Luke? What did Groff want with him – or not want with him? And Luke may not be JJ’s blood relative, but the blood spilled between them was copious.
None of those answers parsed.
At all.
“Shit,” John B said finally, exhaling heavily into the night. He blinked, shaking his head as he looked out at the skyline. “That’s – shit.”
JJ nodded, ducking his head again. “Yeah, I got that, too.”
The shock of it didn’t wear off, but John B reminded himself that this wasn’t about him. He looked at JJ, brows drawn together. “Are you okay?”
JJ flinched somehow, something deep and uncertain. His entire body caved in for a second, and he looked horribly, impossibly young. He watched as the emotions flitted over his face – anger and fear and pain – before he took a breath and straightened, tightly shaking his head.
“Look, I got the map, didn’t I?” JJ said, voice sharp. He wet his lips and looked back at John B with a forced air of indifference. “The map will find us treasure, and the treasure will find us cash. We’ll buy back Poguelanida. I can fix this.”
Whether or not that was true – whether or not it was even possible – John B didn’t know. He just knew that wasn’t that point.
After everything, that just wasn’t the point.
“JJ–” he started.
The sympathy only made JJ recoil more. His face wavered and then set, so stiff that it looked like he could shatter. “I can’t change my family, John B. I can’t change me,” JJ said, gesturing to himself helplessly. Then, he pointed out across the water. “All I can do is fix this. I have to fix this for you guys. I have to give back what I took.”
It was too much; it was too fast. The emotion was too raw, and John B felt the words he couldn’t say stick in his throat. Apologies were too much like pity. Regret was too much like failure. JJ would crumble under all of them.
JJ was just barely holding it together as it was.
“I have to do the right thing, man,” JJ said, almost pleading now. “I have to do the right thing.”
He stepped forward, reaching out to place a hand on JJ’s shoulder. “You are, JJ,” he said, waiting until JJ’s eyes locked on his again. “And this isn’t all on you.”
JJ didn’t flinch away, but his body didn’t relax under his touch. “Isn’t it?”
John B dropped his hand, letting his own shoulders sag. Finding JJ had been hard.
Rescuing JJ had been harder.
Pulling JJ from whatever emotional gap he’d lost himself in?
Well, John B had never been able to do that, not when things got this bad.
“JJ–”
JJ pulled away now, shaking his head. His eyes were too bright. His face was too pale. “Isn’t it?”
No answer would be enough, in the end.
Because the night was growing dark, and the lights of Goat Island receded behind them. They couldn’t outrun things fast enough; they couldn’t escape what was coming.
For JJ, it had always been about blame, as if it was the only thing he could control.
But pointing fingers didn’t solve problems. Assigning blame didn’t make things go away.
“JJ, this doesn’t change anything,” he said, shrugging a little.
JJ laughed, short and bitter as he looked out again. “Are you sure about that, B?”
John B tried not to flinch, even as JJ looked at him.
“Because I don’t know, man,” he said. “I think everything’s different now.”
And, speeding back, to whatever was left of their lives, John B only wished he had the guts to disagree.
-o-
The night had fallen, deep and dark, by the time they got back to the dock at Poguelandia. The cover of darkness was probably for the best, all things considered. She was a little surprised the cops hadn’t staked out the property by this point, but she knew they still had a lot of cleanup to do.
She also suspected that Shoupe didn’t have his heart in it. The Kooks loved it, knocking down the Pogues a peg or two. And some of Kildare’s finest agreed.
But not all.
It was a reason to reconsider their entire approach. Shoupe might not be their enemy, and if it was true, what JJ was saying about his family might matter – and not to mention the mercenaries. There was more going on here, things bigger than a riot. Sarah thought Shoupe might see it, but as she watched JJ get to work, she wasn’t sure he would.
JJ could be his own worst enemy, so laden with his own issues that he couldn’t see his way around them. Even now, she saw the weight on his shoulders as he helped pull them into the dock, securing the boat for the rest of the night. So many people had told him, all his life, that there was no way to escape his future.
She wasn’t sure when he started believing it, honestly. She hadn’t known him long enough.
She just wasn’t sure they could break him out of it. If they could explain to him the options. If they could help him see the possibilities.
Because you couldn’t rationalize hope, could you? You couldn’t teach someone how to believe.
That was a lifelong thing. You had to build it up from scratch.
Her fingers ghosted over her belly again.
From birth.
Before birth.
Her baby was loved. Her baby was wanted. She hadn’t told John B yet, but she knew him. She knew he’d love this baby. She knew he’d protect this baby. This baby would never doubt its future or its place.
But JJ was 19. He’d been abandoned by one father, and beat into the ground by the other. What chance did he have?
And what chance did they have to help him?
It felt overwhelming suddenly, the sheer powerlessness of it all. It was probably what JJ felt all the time, lost to the system that was rigged against him. To fight and fight and never make a difference. The Kooks liked to think their hard work and upstanding lifestyles made them different, but it was bullshit.
Pogues worked just as hard. JJ worked just as hard.
It just didn’t mean anything.
How could she make it mean something for her baby?
She swallowed hard, flinching as John B came up next to her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Are you okay?”
She collected herself with a shiver, pressing her lips into a smile. “Yeah,” she said, and she licked her lips. “Crazy night, though.”
John B exhaled, short and humorless. “Kidnappings and mercenaries. And here we were worried about riots.”
Her smile faltered. “And JJ’s family–”
John B shook his head, the smile fading immediately. “Yeah, he’s not okay,” he said, voice low as they both watched Kie and JJ finish with the ropes. “He’s not okay at all.”
She looked at him – her husband.
The father of her child.
She had already decided he was a partner to spend her life with. Now, when she looked at him, she thought about the way he’d protect this baby. The way he’d raise it. He’d tell the best stories; he’d take them all on the best adventures. They would get their hands dirty, and they would laugh. They would be happy.
They would be loved.
No matter what. Richer or poorer. Sickness or health.
They would be loved.
But they also had to be safe. The practical reality was more pressing than it used to be, and Sarah couldn’t pretend like it wasn’t. “Do you think we should talk to him? About turning himself in.”
He frowned, looking at her in surprise. “What? You know JJ can’t–”
She knew that, she did. She knew JJ and every excuse in the world. She knew the reasons.
But she also knew the complicated reality.
The extenuating circumstances didn’t change what had happened. That might go away with the right creative legal wrangling, but it wouldn’t just evaporate. If they wanted a life in the OBX – with JJ – they needed to face this.
“John B, we’re not kids,” Sarah said, feeling the frustration churn. It wasn’t anger; it was fear. A fear more desperate than she knew how to fully articulate. “We can’t just think about ourselves.”
John B’s face went blank for a moment, and then he looked confused. “Sarah, I’m thinking about JJ.”
“Right, because JJ’s the one with the best judgment?” she asked.
He looked hurt now, like she’d hit him. “That’s not fair–”
“You’re not understanding the point,” she said. “I know what JJ wants, and I know why JJ wants it. But that doesn’t mean it’s what he needs, John B. I think we need to consider the possibility that JJ isn’t okay. You just said it yourself.”
“JJ’s fine,” John B said, but it was too reflexive. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
She stared him down. Hard. “He started a riot, John B,” she reminded him. “He’s wanted for breaking and entering, arson – and who knows what else the Kooks will come up with to nail him. That’s not just a JJ thing.”
John B grew quiet, but he couldn’t deny it. He drew a long slow breath of his own, his eyes diverted. “I know,” he said finally. When he looked up at her, his expression was softer and he bit his lip. “And I’m pissed, okay? He lost the money, and he’s put us all in danger.”
He took a step closer, gently taking her hand into his. “He put you in danger.”
It still made her heart flutter. This boy could still make her heart turn over on itself.
This man.
“And I don’t know. I get it, I do. JJ’s going to have to work this out with the cops, but we can’t force it,” John B said. He shrugged, a little helpless. “I have to let him see this through.”
“Even if it destroys him?” she said.
“He just lost everything he thought he knew about himself,” John B said. “Sarah, he already hated himself – and now? He doesn’t even know who he is. If JJ doesn’t have time to make sense of this, it might kill him. It really might.”
It wasn’t a threat – and it wasn’t idle.
And yet, it wasn’t enough. Not now.
She steadied herself, thinking about the two lines on the pregnancy test.
Not anymore.
“But what about us?” she said. “What about what we need?”
At that, John B softened – so much that he nearly caved entirely. “Sarah, we’re going to be fine,” he said. “I will figure it out. And, I swear, if push comes to shove, I’ll do what I need to do – with or without JJ.”
It was a conviction she wasn’t expecting. Certainly not the one she was looking for. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
He turned toward her, taking her by the shoulders. “I know, but it is what I’m saying,” he said, ever resolute. “I swear to you, Sarah. You are my priority. No matter what.”
How did he do that? How did he know exactly what she needed to hear?
He had no idea what was coming. He couldn’t possibly now.
Which just made it better.
It affirmed what she had known from the start: this was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. This was the man who would raise her children.
This was the man.
Finally, she nodded. “Okay,” she said. “What can we do to help?”
He dropped his grip, sighing again as he turned back to look at JJ and Kiara. “I don’t know,” he said. “Usually with JJ, it’s best to wait it out, you know? He’s not ready to deal with shit until he’s ready.”
Pragmatic, and they both knew it.
And hard at the same time.
It felt like not enough.
To watch someone you love come undone.
Waiting it out? Didn’t feel like enough.
“Come on,” John B said, nudging her gently up the path. “We should get some rest.”
She allowed herself to be led, gaze lingering on JJ and Kiara for a second longer while they worked to secure the boat. Wanting to help was easier than helping. Not for a lack of love, but for a lack of understanding.
What could possibly help now?
They’d have to talk about it in the morning. They’d have to figure it out eventually.
But tonight–
Tonight felt spent.
Tonight felt done.
She turned away, tipping her head against John B’s shoulder as they moved up the dock toward the yard. They didn’t speak now, pressed against each other in the dark, his skin warm against the cool night air. There was comfort here, at least.
Looking up, the house loomed in front of them. It was still here, at least.
She just didn’t know if it’d be here tomorrow.
She didn’t know if they’d be here tomorrow.
Where would she put a nursery? Where would she bring a baby home from the hospital? Where would the first steps be? Where could they hold a first birthday party?
But where didn’t matter.
Not as much as who.
She let herself relax against John B a little more, closing her eyes as he guided them up. “Is it going to be okay?”
“For JJ?” he asked.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. “For all of us.”
He gave her a look, long and surprised. Then, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Of course,” he said, wrapping his arm tighter around her. “I’m always going to take care of you. I’m always going to take care of all of you.”
She relaxed then, snuggling against him.
She didn’t know what they’d have in the morning.
But if she had this, she told herself that would surely be enough.
-o-
Making landfall was familiar, of course. Something they’d done hundreds of times.
It felt different.
Kiara couldn’t ignore that.
It was different.
It had been their home, their refuge.
Now, it was just a horrible reminder of how much they’d lost.
Because they had lost it. No matter what they did, no matter how they postured – it was a done deal. The Kooks had won. They’d taken it out from under them, just like that.
The struggle to find JJ – the difficult path to get him home – had helped her forget. But here, standing on the dock, the reality loomed large.
It was hard for her to face.
Next to her, it was almost too much for JJ entirely.
His face twitched, even as he tried to keep himself composed, his lips working anxiously as he furrowed his brow up at it. “It’s still here, huh?”
She followed his gaze, and she felt the weight of it, too. “Yeah, they haven’t kicked us out yet,” she said softly. All she could do was shrug. “I think they’re still busy cleaning up the town. Shoupe doesn’t have a spare deputy to serve the eviction notice.”
It was a joke. Black humor.
Usually that worked.
But usually JJ wasn’t going through a total identity crisis. His breathing staggered a little bit, his face going hard and his eyes bright. Something trembled in him for a moment. “It’s my fault.”
She was too tired for this. She couldn’t. JJ had started a riot; JJ was a wanted man.
And he’d just been kidnapped.
She couldn’t.
“JJ, don’t–”
There was a wave of pain in his expression, before it hardened. He took another breath, deeper than the last, but it seemed to work even less. “I gave it to them,” he said, blinking rapidly a few times. “I gave them us on a silver platter. I fed into every stereotype, every bad expectation of a Maybank–”
“JJ–” she said, reaching to take his hand.
His fingers didn’t grip hers back. She could feel it now, the way he was shaking. Too hard. “And they don’t even know,” he said, voice breaking. “I’m not a Maybank – I’m a – I’m a – shit–”
He broke off, voice strangled and funny. He staggered, reaching a hand up to his chest in desperation as he tried – and failed – to take another breath.
“They’ll kill me,” he said, gasping now. “They won’t let me be a Kook. I don’t want to be a Kook.”
He blinked, but his eyes were half blind. She steadied him as best she could, her own heart started to race. Up the path, John B and Sarah were out of sight now. She thought about calling for them–
“And they’ll kill you, too,” he said, eyes flicking to her. “Shit, Kie. You can’t be here. I can’t stay here. You’ll be an accessory. They’ll arrest you. An accessory–”
He was rambling, his control slipping. He’d run to Goat Island to avoid these truths.
Now that they were back, it was all crashing down on him again.
And if Kiara wasn’t careful, the next crash out could be worse.
Because between the cops and Groff, JJ was running out of places to hide.
“I have to go,” he said again, trying to take a step away from her. He stumbled, and she caught him, even as he pushed against her. “I can’t be here–”
“JJ, you’re fine,” she said. “We’re fine. We’re going to be careful–”
He wasn’t listening to her, though. His eyes wide and looking through her entirely. “I can’t get you arrested.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that Pope was already in jail – not while he was losing it. She tightened her grip on him, doing her best to keep him still. “Breathe, JJ–”
He inhaled, but the sound was strangled and funny. He blinked wetly, eyes unseeing as the color drained precariously from his face.
“JJ,” she said, more stern now. She lifted up her hand, pressing it on top of his in the center of his chest. Hard enough to feel the beat of his heart. Hard enough for him to feel her. “You’re going to pass out, Jayj. You have to breathe.”
He made a whining noise, something keening in the back of his throat as his heart raced – too hard, too fast – beneath her touch. She kept herself steady, looking at him fully.
“JJ, inhale. JJ, you have to inhale–”
He tried, face going dangerously pale as she watched his gaze start to unfocus and his body started to get heavy. This time, when his knees gave out, they went out entirely, and it was all Kiara could do to catch them as they both crashed to the ground.
She caught him, pulling his lax body on top of her, until his back was to her chest, his body splayed out between her legs. She wrapped him up then, both her arms around him, pressing him close to her.
“I’m here,” she said. “Do you feel me? I’m here.”
He gaped like a fish, unable to answer. She could feel her own heart – hammering – but still slower, less frantic than his.
“We’ll do it together,” she said, coaching him now. “We breathe in–”
He didn’t respond, body almost seizing with the effort.
“We’re doing it together,” she said. “You and me.”
And this time, when she breathed in, she felt his chest rise, too. Short and tremulous. But in.
Then out.
“Good,” she said, coaxing him gently. “In and out, Jayj. Just keep breathing.”
The second breath was almost harder than the first, and she kept her grip firm as his body trembled beneath her. The thrumming was too fast, too hard, but she felt each contraction of his lungs.
“That’s it,” she said. “We’re just breathing, JJ. We’re breathing.”
She held him like that as his breathing even out, and the worst of the panic attack passed. None of them talked about it – they all knew JJ was prone to them, and had been for as long as Kiara had known him – but it was another one of their worst kept secrets.
Like not talking about it would keep them at bay.
Ignorance was bliss.
Until it wasn’t.
And she wondered, if it was ever bliss for JJ. Or if he always lived with that fear in the back of his head. That maybe not talking about it was easier for them – not him. He wouldn’t want the attention, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need.
They weren’t kids anymore. The consequences were real. Not talking about it had lost them Poguelandia and put Pope in jail. It had turned JJ into Kildare’s most wanted.
But sure.
They could go on pretending.
Since that was working out so well.
“Come on,” she cajoled, urging JJ to his feet. She got up first, supporting him as she pulled him up after her. “Let’s get inside.”
His breathing was better, but it was clear his head still wasn’t quite right. He leaned against her more than normal, letting her steady him as she started them back up the path toward the house.
It was slow and unsteady, but JJ seemed to struggle the closer they got to the house. He all but hesitated at the base of the stairs, blanching as he looked up at the home he loved so much.
It seemed to hurt him now.
To be so close to it.
And know it wasn’t his.
It was just like fate, wasn’t it? To show JJ a future he wanted just to take it away from him. The Kooks would never understand, the bastards. They could have the whole damn island. But they couldn’t afford them one parcel of happiness.
Dealing with that was going to be hard.
Dealing with the cops was going to be harder.
But none of that was going to happen tonight. Not while JJ was still dealing with an apparent kidnapping and the entire upheaval of everything he thought he knew. He was exhausted; he was spent.
JJ was done.
“Come on,” she said, voice low as she coached him up the first step. John B appeared at the top of the stairs, looking worried and clearly ready to intervene. She waved him off, shaking her head. JJ’s head was still dropped low, and he seemed to be taking all his energy to just keep moving.
It was work to get them all the way up, and John B’s face was pale with worry as he let them pass, opening the door for them as she got him inside. The trip up the stairs was harder still, but he didn’t fight her. The anger from the last 24 hours had drained out of him.
Everything had drained out of him.
In truth, she wasn’t sure what was left.
And as she laid him down on the bed, the look in his eyes suggested he wasn’t sure either.
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, before he shuddered and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” she said, sitting down next to him, the mattress sagging beneath her weight.
“I messed everything up,” he admitted, so quiet that it was hard to hear him.
She shook her head. “You didn’t–”
He looked at her, and the grief there made her close her mouth. “I lost Poguelandia. And then I started a riot,” he said. “Shit, Kie. I was in a police stand off. What was I thinking?”
The obvious answer was that he wasn’t. JJ hadn’t been thinking; he hadn’t even been capable of it. Fear led him to risk everything for the land. And the fear eclipsed his reason, shut down his brain as he let the anger take over. She knew him; she knew it wasn’t conscious thought. The only way JJ knew to survive was to fight, tooth and nail. And when things got tough, JJ got self destructive.
She knew this.
Why had she let him near that courthouse? Why had she not made him talk about it?
About the bet? About Poguelanida?
About Luke and Groff?
Was it so hard? To ask what he was thinking? To ask what he was feeling?
He might not tell her.
But – maybe he would.
He never had the chance if she didn’t ask. He would never learn until she showed him. It was like teaching him to breathe through his panic. In and out; together.
“It’s okay,” she soothed instead, lying herself next to him. She curled up, so they were face to face on the mattress. “We’ll figure it out in the morning, okay?”
The sense of loss, however, was palpable. He seemed to deflate now, like there was just nothing left of him.
“Hey,” she said, reaching out to him. She pulled him closer, stroking his back. “Together, remember? You and me.”
He caught himself, just on a breathless sob. “I don’t know who I am anymore,” he said, head cradled against her and his body limp. “Kie, I don’t know who I am.”
Her fingers flitted through his hair. “Of course you do,” she said. “You’re the same person you’ve always been, the one I fell in love with.”
His face contorted, the tears not quite shed. “But I’m not,” he said. “He confirmed it. Groff told me it was true.”
She blinked, not sure what to say.
Not sure what to think.
He pulled back, looking at her. His blue eyes were strangely empty now that the panic had receded. In its place was something hollow, something she wasn’t sure how to fill. Something she wasn’t sure could be filled.
“And you believe him?” she asked.
“Why would he lie?” JJ said weakly. “It’s not like I’m some high commodity kid.”
“JJ–”
“It’s true, Kie,” JJ said, circumventing her denials. “I’m the last Genrette. I’m the Kookiest Kook on this side of the island.”
She gaped, the words failing her. She couldn’t compute it. She just couldn’t.
“And worse, they didn’t want me then,” he said. “And I don’t think they want me now.”
She considered what that meant. Not just that Luke wasn’t his father. But that Groff had abandoned him – and Luke had abused him anyway.
And he wasn’t even a Pogue.
“JJ,” she said, heart threatening to shatter for him.
He didn’t want it, though. He pulled back, face hardening at the mere thought of her sympathy. “And you shouldn’t want me either.”
He was so final, he was so sure, that she didn’t know what to say.
She didn’t know what to do.
“JJ,” she said, reaching up to caress his cheek.
He froze at the contact, leaning away. Not that he didn’t want it.
But that he thought he didn’t deserve it.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said hoarsely.
“I know,” she said.
Before she could continue, before she could explain, he shook his head. “So don’t,” he said, a little too sharp. Like someone had stabbed him, and he was using the blade to cut her, too. He closed his eyes, and turned away as the night settled over them. “Just don’t.”