chapter twenty
isadora windsor

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Isadora Windsor.

          Her name was the last thread connecting her to her old life. It was the final tether; the last straw. And she wished so desperately to take a pair of scissors and cut herself free. It was what she wanted. But her father held the scissors which would fulfill all her dreams, and she would have to rip them from his bare hands in order to snap the thread in two.

          Isadora Windsor—her connecting tether. It was her name. The one thing that she used to hold near and dear to her heart. For a long time, it was the only thing she had; the only thing she needed.

          Windsor, Windsor, Windsor. But it wasn't just a name. It never had been just a name. It was a legacy; a legacy her father expected her to carry on. But Izzy didn't want to be a prophetic child. She didn't want to be the golden girl. Because she wasn't. She was Izzy Windsor and her name only made her feel like a Barbie doll sitting in the window of a store, desperately waiting for someone to pick her and determine her worth. But she didn't need that anymore . . . because she knew her worth. She wasn't some quick curl barbie. She was Izzy Windsor, and she was made of flesh and bone, not hollow plastic.

          In the past few weeks or so, Izzy had found people like her. She had found people made of flesh and bone, and she never wanted to let them go. They may have been nobodies—the outcasts of the Outer Banks, if you will—to everyone else in Figure Eight, but they meant something to her. Hell . . . JJ Maybank was a nobody, but he made Izzy Windsor feel like someone . . . which made her think that maybe titles and names didn't mean shit. Maybe it was more about the person.

          She believed that, too.

          She thought that a title or a legacy connected to a name didn't mean anything if the person attached to the title wasn't worthy of its praise. Her father would disagree, but William Windsor was a lying asshole. He hadn't even been to the house once since summer began. He didn't deserve to be praised. All he had ever done was ruin his daughter by ripping her to shreds and turning her into a carbon copy of her mother. And Izzy . . . well . . . Izzy didn't want anything to do with the Windsor name if it meant being connected to him. She'd rather spend her days and nights with the only people who had ever accepted her.

          The Pogues. They meant something to her. She'd rather be with them, and she didn't care if they were less fortunate than her or made her quote-on-quote look bad. She didn't care if people thought she was a basket case for hanging out with them. She just didn't care. Because, honestly, when JJ Maybank looked at her . . . well . . . she never wanted him to stop. He made her feel like she was someone; like she mattered.

          JJ Maybank made Izzy Windsor feel like the sun.

          He made her feel like the sun. But not in the sense that if you got too close, she'd burn you, but in the sense that he had a way of making her feel warm. He made her feel and that was all that mattered to her, not stupid shit like titles or legacies. She just wanted to feel seen, and JJ just had a way of looking at her as if her true colors weren't ugly. He didn't turn away when she peeled back her plastic skin and revealed the underbelly of her psyche. No, JJ had seen what lurked below the facades she had accumulated over the years, and he had smiled. He had smiled a warm, genuine smile.

          He made her feel like the sun. He made her blood run warm, heating her cheeks into a rosy pink. And for a second she wondered if that was what it felt like to have a home. Because maybe home wasn't a place. Maybe home was a feeling; a feeling you only experienced around the people who saw you.

          Maybe JJ Maybank was her home.

          And as her eyes fluttered open that morning and she realized she was wrapped in JJ Maybank's arms, she began to believe those thoughts. This was where she felt safe. He made her feel safe. So, yeah, really . . . maybe home was just a sense of warmth and feeling safe. It was foreign to her, but now that she had had a taste of it, she never wanted to leave the warm embrace of his arms.

Izzy blinked and brought a hand up to rub her eyes as a small yawn escaped her lips. She craned her neck to glance up at JJ, only to find him still sleeping with his mouth slightly agape. He looked younger when he slept . . . like the world wasn't weighing down on his shoulders. And for a second Izzy thought maybe Atlas wasn't a god, but rather a boy on the island of the Outer Banks with golden hair and a crooked smile. It was a thought that made her smile, and then she was reaching forward and combing her fingers through his blond waves.

          She ran her hand through his hair, then stopped at his neck and twirled the longer—outgrown if you will—strands around her finger. And at her touch, he stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he inhaled sharply. His eyes found hers a second later and a small smile twitched at his lips. "Hey," he mumbled as he rubbed his eye.

          Izzy retreated her hand from his hair and sat up as she stared at him. "Hey," she said under her breath. Her eyes roamed over his face, fixating on the bruise painting his cheek. She wanted to reach out and touch it, but something stopped her. For a second she thought if she got too close, then he'd leave her too. She didn't know why that thought popped into her head, but it stayed long enough for an uneasy feeling to settle in her stomach. But she tried to force those thoughts away with a shake of her head. "How bad's that hangover?"

          JJ ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. "Like a five out of ten," he sighed. "Pretty mediocre." He rested a hand on her thigh and grazed the skin with his thumb.

          The corners of her lips twitched. "You're dumb—"

          His mouth fell agape slightly and he touched a hand to his chest. "I'm offended, Windsor," he scoffed, cutting her off.

          Izzy rolled her eyes. "You didn't let me finish. You're dumb but . . . you're pretty hot so it evens out," she said with a small shrug.

          JJ sat up abruptly and glanced around the room with wide eyes. He twisted his body so he was facing the window, and pushed the curtain aside to peek through the glass. "Oh, my God," he muttered under his breath as he glanced back at her with his eyes still as wide as saucers.

          Izzy only made a face and stared at him. What the fuck? She was used to him being . . . well . . . JJ Maybank, but this crossed the line. "What?" she asked, distaste dripping from her tongue. "What the fuck are you doing?"

          "Did the world end?" he asked before he turned his head to look out the window.

          Izzy raised a brow. "Huh, bitch?" she bluntly asked. "God, you're weird."

          JJ shook his head while still staring out the window. "No, no, genuinely. Did the world end? Izzy Windsor complimented me. I think the apocalypse is coming," he said, a humorous tone tangled around his tongue.

          And then it clicked, and Izzy couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Like I said—" an aspirated groan left her lips as she shoved his chest— "dumb."

          JJ laughed and backed away from the window, then turned to the girl in front of him. "But hot," he mused as his hands found their way to her waist.

Izzy couldn't help but smile as she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. It was a short kiss, but still had a way of completely melting her mind. She pulled back, the smile still on her face. "Just my type," she mumbled, warmly as she raised a brow and studied his face.

As her eyes trailed across his face, she thought for a moment what would happen if he, too, left her, and then her heart began to ache. It wasn't a pleasant ache either. It was the kind of ache that made her miss the twine which used to constrict around her heart. It reminded her of all the people she had lost—her mother, she never even had her father, her friends (though, she had just gotten them back), as well as most of her relatives. It was just Izzy and her ghosts, and the ache which surrounded her. She didn't know what she'd do if she lost him. She had just gotten him back. She couldn't lose him again. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she lost him or any of the Pogues for that matter.

"Not even gonna' hide it but I think I knew what I was doing when I gave you the letter," JJ remarked, tearing Izzy from her mind. He laid back down on the bed and put his arm behind his head to prop himself up. "Past me was a god. Now I'm . . . ascending." He narrowed his eyes and slightly tilted his head to the side. "What's higher than a god, Iz?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the small smile which lifted onto her face. "Okay, weirdo, you're hungover, not on LSD," she said, flicking his nose.

JJ rubbed his nose and shot her a look before he sighed. "Fuck," he breathed out, under his breath. "Now I want to try LSD."

Izzy shook her head at him and released a small sigh. She wanted to answer and joke around with him. She liked joking around with him, but she couldn't help but wonder why JJ had this much trust in her. He had always just trusted her, giving her the letter was proof of that, and she honestly didn't know why. She had been a bitch to him for years. He had no reason to trust her after what she did. His decisions, and him in general, made him an enigma, and she was determined to figure him out.

Her confusion deepened by the seconds, making her grow anxious. "How did you know I wouldn't want a cut? Like why would you trust me like that?" she blurted out before she could stop herself. She shrugged a second later and just stared at him, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. "I mean what if I found out about this shit because of your dumb letter and I decided I was going to like rob you guys?"

The expression plaguing JJ's face softened, and then he gave a shrug. "Because . . . " he trailed off as his eyes searched hers. "Because I've never seen you ask anyone for money or let people buy you things or pay for you in any way. You've always done everything with your money. I didn't and I don't think you'd ever take that away from people like me."

Izzy raised her brows. "You mean you don't think the billionaire would scam people out of money?" she scoffed. She wasn't mad at him, but perhaps, she was angry with herself. She just wanted to be better. She didn't want to be Izzy Windsor, the girl with issues and too much money. Being a Windsor fucking sucked. Don't get her wrong. She'd be pissed if she wasn't rich too, but still, she didn't want to be this anymore.

JJ only shrugged. "I guess."

Izzy blinked, then shook her head. "You don't know that for sure," she mumbled. She averted her gaze to her hands and picked at her chipped nail polish. "My family made their fortune on the demise of other people. We manipulate. We scam. We throw people under the bus so we're the last ones standing with money bags in our hands." A small, dark laugh escaped her lips. It was bittersweet and left a bitter taste on her tongue. "It's the Windsor way."

He reached forward and grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers together to cease her from picking at her nails. "But . . . you're not like them," he said after a second. "You're not your dad."

Izzy glanced up and met his gaze. Her heart swelled in her chest as she stared at him and she felt her expression soften as a small smile grew on her face. Her eyes flicked to the bruise on his cheek, and her expression faltered. Her smile slowly fell as she glanced back to lock eyes with him. "You're not your dad either, you know that, right?" she asked, softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know you don't have to . . . you don't have to do this shit, right? You don't have to like get drunk or splurge all your money or—or whatever. You're not like him. You're good."

It was silent for a moment as JJ studied the girl's face, trailing his eyes across her features as he lazily drew circles on her thigh with his thumb. He appeared as if he were soaking in her words, trying to make sense of them. And then he did . . . make sense of them. He made sense of her words by giving her a small, tight smile as he reached forward and hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her into him. He brought his other hand up to caress her cheek, and he kissed her. He kissed her and the world fell away until it felt as though it was just them and the whistling of the wind sounding from outside.

Izzy pulled back but kept her face close to his. "I don't want you to go back to him," she mumbled as she brought a hand up to trace the bruise under his eye. "I can . . . I can have him arrested and you never have to go back to him. And you don't have to worry about a place to stay or money or anything. You can stay with me. You can live with me and it'll all be okay."

A sigh left JJ's lips as his head fell back against the pillow. "Izzy—"

But Izzy wasn't having it. "No, fuck you—" she spat as she shot back and lightly smacked his chest— "I'm not letting you go back there. Look at what he did to you." She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him with glossy eyes. She didn't care if he saw her cry. She was past caring. She just wanted him safe. That was all that mattered. "You don't even have to go to college if you don't want to. Trust me, my trust fund is like in the millions."

His eyes snapped to meet her cold gaze. "He's still my dad," he mumbled.

JJ Maybank was an enigma . . . his words had just proved that . . . and Izzy wanted nothing more than to figure him out. But, in a way, she got it.

No matter what her father did to her or said to her, a part of her would always be seeking his approval. Because no one was entirely good or bad. Her father could be an asshole with a narcissistic streak, but there were times when he'd come home from one of his trips and bring Izzy back a souvenir . . . and there were times where he'd make her laugh so hard her stomach would hurt. Those were the times where Izzy thought he might actually try and be a father, and it filled her with warmth . . . because in the end, Izzy Windsor was just a kid yearning for her father's approval.

But nothing, and she meant nothing, could excuse what Luke Maybank had been doing to his son for years. No amount of fatherly love could excuse that. And Izzy would be damned if she was going to just let him get away with it.

"That's not enough," Izzy finally spat out, shaking her head. "Parents aren't supposed to treat their kids like punching bags. You are so much better than he ever will be. You deserve better than that. You deserve better than him." And she meant her words. And perhaps in a way, she was also talking to herself. Because, okay maybe, Izzy Windsor just wanted her father to love her, but she was so tired of taking his shit. (It was another reason as to why she left her phone in her bedroom before she came to John B's house (or the Chateau as the Pogues called it). She just couldn't handle any more of his texts.)

JJ just stared at her . . . and then he sighed. "Is that really the future you want? With me . . . I mean."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Izzy asked, pursing her lips. She slapped her hands against her thighs and shrugged as she shook her head. "For as long as I can like remember, I don't think I've ever looked forward to the future. I always thought I'd end up like my mom. Married to a dickhead with a few kids and maybe like a booze problem. That's what I thought I was going to become . . . and I tried to make myself be okay with that, but it was never okay. I don't want that. I never did. Because like . . . what's the point of being rich if I'm miserable?"

"I don't know. I think a couple million bucks would make me one happy . . . happy . . . happy guy," JJ mused, trying to make light of the situation.

But Izzy didn't want to sidetrack. "JJ . . . " she trailed off as she shot him a look. She didn't want to sidetrack. She honestly didn't. She wanted him to know that all she ever really wanted was to feel free and be wanted by people who actually cared about her. "I don't want that future. I want a future that's unpredictable. I want to live. I want a future that you're in, and one where Kie's there, and Sarah, Pope, John B. I want a future that I want, not one that was chosen for me."

JJ didn't say anything, he only looked at her with a crooked smile on his face. He reached forward and pulled her into him again. His arms encircled around her waist as she rested her head on his chest and lazily draped her arms over his chest. Once they were situated, their legs tangled together as he rested his chin on top of her head, he released a sigh. "Tell me about our future," he said under his breath.

Izzy felt herself smile. She didn't know she could feel this . . . good. She never wanted it to end. She wanted to stay wrapped in his arms forever and forget the world. And she held onto those thoughts as she closed her eyes and pictured the future she wanted. "Well, after high school we can hop on my private jet and fly to the Bahamas or Paris. Oh, Paris is just wonderful. The fashion is to die for, too. And the music. But there aren't any real oceans like the ones where you can surf," she explained, reminiscing on the times where she and her mother vacationed to Europe. "Okay, so we'll live in Lacanau instead and we can go to Paris on the weekends. And then we can fly the others out from time to time . . . deal?"

JJ laughed. "Deal."

Her eyes snapped open as she craned her neck to look at the boy. "And we'll get one of those beach houses so we can hear the ocean while we sleep. And you can teach me how to swim and I'll teach you how to paint. It'll be great you'll see," she said, grinning at him. She didn't know why she was acting this way, but she couldn't help it. She just felt too . . . happy (maybe?) and she couldn't contain it.

JJ bit the inside of his cheek and scrunched his nose. "Does that mean we have to learn French?" he asked.

"Uh . . . duh," Izzy muttered. "I mean I sort of know it but like whatever."

JJ laughed under his breath as he shook his head. "Of course you do," he mused. He fell silent for a second before he eventually sighed and looked back to meet her gaze. "Well, I guess a French accent would sound hot on you, so sign me up."

Izzy only shot him an unamused look.

"I'm joking. I mean . . . I'm not but . . . " JJ trailed off. "I don't care where we go . . . I'm all in."

I'm all in. That made a smile spread across Izzy's face as she leaned toward him and quickly pressed her lips against his. She kissed him once more before she pulled away from him and rested her head on his chest. She breathed out a sigh as she thought of the future. It would be so different from the one that had been chosen for her; it would be different from the one her mother lived . . . and Izzy thought maybe that was what Julia would have wanted.

          "I think . . . I think my mom would be proud," Izzy mumbled before she even knew what she was saying. But she wasn't lying. For the first time, she thought maybe she was on the right track because maybe life was about more than social classes and making enough money. Maybe living like really living was about being her true self and letting herself be free from the entrapment of her family's legacy. "She would have wanted this for me. I think. I think she always wanted me to be better like free or whatever."

          "Yeah," JJ hummed as he lazily rubbed her arm with his hand.

          Izzy bit the inside of her cheek. She could tell something was on JJ's mind, and then her thoughts began to wander and the guilt began to eat away at her skin. She figured she already knew the reason behind JJ's silence.

          She knew JJ's mother had left long before Izzy had ever met him. He used to talk about her sometimes when he'd come with his father to work with the Windsors. JJ never said much. Perhaps he couldn't manage any more details than he had already told her, but it still got her thinking. Because all this time Izzy had been complaining about her mother while JJ didn't even have a mother to begin with.

          Her ignorance toward his feelings made Izzy feel selfish, and she was after all. She was practically born with gold coursing through her bloodstream rather than blood. But she didn't want to be that selfish little girl anymore. She had only ruined everything good in her life. So she craned her neck to look at him and rested her hand against his neck, grazing his jaw with her thumb.

          "Your mom . . . do you miss her?" Izzy asked quietly. "I should have asked earlier, but . . . I don't know . . . I guess I was too in my own head. But you know I got you, right? I'm like here or whatever."

          JJ flicked his eyes to meet hers as his brows furrowed. He didn't speak, he only stared at her and blinked as if he couldn't believe the words she spoke. But then, he did speak. "Um . . . I guess," he mumbled. "I just wish I knew why she left . . . and why she didn't . . . take me with her."

          Izzy bit her lip in contemplation. "What was she like?"

          JJ averted his gaze to the ceiling, trying to hide his glossy eyes. "I don't really remember," he struggled to mutter out. "I remember her being . . . kind. Um . . . I don't know if she loved me . . . but she didn't love my dad, so she left him. And I wish I could hate her for leaving me with him, but I don't even blame her." He cleared his throat and released a sigh. "I used to sit by my window and watch the cars go by my house, hoping one of them would stop and my mom would get out . . . but she never did. Eventually, I realized she wasn't coming back . . . and I stopped waiting."

          Izzy only stared at him. She didn't know what to say. Her mother had never left her behind. Julia Windsor was like Izzy's best friend as stupid as it sounded, but really, she was. If she were still alive, Izzy knew for a fact she wouldn't have been wrapped in JJ's arms, she would have still been the same person she was at the start of the summer. She would have been a Windsor through and through. So she had no idea what to say. Because Julia was dead and gone, but she hadn't abandoned her daughter to go live somewhere else without her. Perhaps it would have been worse if she had. The Windsor girl had no idea how that must have made JJ feel.

          But she didn't say anything like that. She didn't tell him that she knew what he was going through because she didn't. She knew she should have had words. Sometimes she was good at words just like she was good at art, but other times . . . Izzy Windsor was as clueless as they came. And instead of saying the right thing, she said the only thing that came to mind. "Mommy issues and daddy issues . . . wow . . . look at us," she remarked, trying to laugh off the tension in the room. (Arguably she should have kept her mouth shut.) She immediately shook her head and clicked her tongue. "Sorry, that was really stupid. I'm not good at this shit, J."

          JJ only laughed. "Yeah, clearly," he remarked. The corners of his lips twisted into a grin and he had to bite his lip to contain it. "You have a way with words, Windsor."

          Izzy rolled her eyes, but couldn't fight the grin tugging at her lips. "Shut up," she groaned as she tapped on his jaw with her thumb. "Look, whatever, remember what I said last night? We can . . . like . . . heal or whatever together and maybe we won't be lost causes. So . . . don't pick the scab, k?" She let her words from last night resurface, hoping they'd cement in her brain and she would heal from past wounds.

          JJ pursed his lips and nodded. "For sure . . . don't pick the scab," he agreed. "Seems a little sus now that I'm saying it out loud. I don't know if it's my style, Iz."

          Izzy shot him a look before she playfully rolled her eyes again and leaned forward to quickly press her lips against his. She pulled slightly away from him, but hovered her face above his, her lips grazing his. She kissed him once more before she detached herself from his body. She figured she couldn't stay in bed all day, especially since Kiara and Pope were probably outside working on a plan to get the gold out of the well. And she wanted to make herself useful, because honestly, Izzy felt like she was just . . . there. She didn't feel like she was making much of a difference, and she hated that. So, she slipped out of JJ's grasp and off the bed, ignoring how the cold floorboards made chills shoot up her spine when she made contact.

"Where are you going?" JJ asked, sitting up on the bed. The covers fell from his body, pooling around his waist and revealing his bare chest.

Izzy glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. "I'm getting up. It's like nine in the morning," she said, gesturing to the window.

"Terrific," JJ muttered, sarcastically as he threw his head back and breathed out through his nose. He cracked his neck then looked back at Izzy, letting his eyes roam over her. His eyes halted and soon he was biting his bottom lip to try and stifle the grin tugging at his lips. "Your ass looks nice in the morning by the way."

Izzy scoffed as she approached the closed door. She put her hand on the doorknob, then turned to look at him with a vindictive smirk plastered across her face. "You know . . . that's actually so funny because I was going to say your dick looks small in the morning," she remarked. "Weird how that works, huh?" She shot him one last smug look before she flipped him the middle finger, then gave him a two-finger salute.

His laughter echoed in her ears as she swung open the door and stepped out into the hallway. She could still hear him chuckle to himself as she closed the bedroom door behind her and headed off to find the bathroom. When she stumbled upon the small bathroom, she walked inside and closed the door behind her. She glanced around, quickly finding her crewneck and spandex shorts from yesterday draped around the shower curtain rod. She had put them there to dry after JJ fell asleep last night, so she expected they'd be dry by now. She reached for them, checking if they were dry (which they were), and then she yanked them from the rod and quickly changed into the clothes.

Once she was done, she tossed aside the clothes she had borrowed, throwing them in the bathtub. A small sigh escaped her as she approached the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection. Normally, she would have seen her own personal ghost staring back at her, but she only saw herself. She saw Izzy Windsor . . . the same girl with acne-prone skin (which by the way, didn't make her any less pretty) and dark circles hanging under her eyes like crescent moons. Sure, she still had the face of a Windsor, and maybe she always would be one of them, but she was still herself . . . and she only just now realized how freeing that was.

Izzy quickly combed through her hair with her fingers, then tied the blond waves into a ponytail. A few strands escaped the hair tie's hold due to the length of her hair, but she ignored that and decided it would do. She then spread toothpaste onto her finger and quickly brushed her teeth as best as she could. And then she was off, walking out of the bathroom and heading toward the backyard where she found Kiara and Pope testing out some weird contraption.

"Hey," Izzy said as she walked down the steps and approached the two. She stood beside Pope and stared up at Kiara who was sitting in a large bucket that was attached to a pulley in order to keep her in the air. "Uh . . . what are you guys doing?" She put her hands on her hips and observed as Pope cranked the winch to raise the bucket.

"Testing my plan," Pope mused with a small, smug grin on his face.

"Yeah, Pope might be onto something," Kiara added as she glanced at the boy and tossed him a wide smile. She glanced back up at the pulley as she held onto the wires to sturdy herself.

"Of course I'm onto something," Pope remarked. "I'm always right."

Izzy glanced at him as a small smile tugged at her lips. She always knew Pope had been the one with the brains. When JJ and she were friends years ago, he used to talk all about his friends, and he mentioned many times about how 'Pope Heyward would surely win a Nobel Peace Prize'. Granted, maybe JJ was a little off on which award Pope would win, but he wasn't entirely wrong. She liked Pope. He seemed genuine. Maybe a little awkward, but genuine and that was all Izzy could ask for.

"So how is he?" Kiara abruptly asked, tearing Izzy from her mind.

Izzy raised her brows and glanced at the girl. "JJ?" she asked, but she already knew the answer.

          Kiara nodded in response, and Izzy opened her mouth to answer the question, but before she could, someone stepped down the stairs to the Chateau and answered for her. "Just peachy, Kie," JJ called over to them, causing the others to turn and glance at him.

          Pope gave him a head nod. "Ah, good morning, sunshine."

          A small smile lifted onto Izzy's face as she flicked her gaze from Pope to the blond boy. She watched the boy step down the stairs of the small house and approach the hot tub. Her eyes trailed over his attire, taking in the red cap he wore to cover his blond waves and the stained white tank top he wore paired with the gray shorts he had on. Her eyes flicked down to his hands, finding he was holding a beer bottle and a bottle of water. She then watched as he climbed into the hot tub and sat on the ledge, soaking his legs in the hot water.

          "J," Izzy called out to him, causing him to glance over his shoulder to look at her. She nodded at him and began walking toward him with a small grin on her face. (She figured Kie and Pope didn't need her help so whatever.) She approached the hot tub and leaned her hands on the ledge as she stared up at him. "Is that—" she gestured to the water bottle in his hand— "for me?"

          "Well, you don't want the beer, do you?" JJ remarked as he handed the water bottle to her, gesturing for her to take it.

          Izzy sent him a sarcastic smize. "Thanks, smartass," she muttered as she took the water bottle from him then climbed into the hot tub and sat down beside him on the ledge. The hot water lapped around her legs, filling her to the brim with warmth and causing her to begin to sweat. She opened the water bottle and took a sip to cool herself down.

          "Are you two gonna' help or are you just going to sit there like tumors?" Pope abruptly asked, causing the two blonde teenagers to glance over at him.

          JJ flipped him off. "Hey, now, my girlfriend would like to soak her feet in our new hot tub," he called back, to which Pope rolled his eyes in response and went back to cranking the winch. The blond boy turned back to Izzy and winked. "You're welcome by the way. We have the finest hot tub in all of Outer Banks at la casa de Maybank."

          Izzy gave a small laugh, but she wasn't really listening. All she could think about was him calling her his girlfriend. Because . . . like . . . girlfriend? Izzy was his girlfriend . . . what? "Girlfriend?" she voiced her thoughts, shock dripping from her tongue. She didn't expect to get into a relationship so soon after she broke things off with Rafe, but honestly, it felt right.

          JJ's face fell slightly. "Uh . . . "

          A wide smile spread across Izzy's face. She wanted to be his girlfriend. She knew it was soon, but hell, she had been harboring feelings for this boy since junior high, and she was done ignoring the way she felt. "Ask me," she mumbled as she leaned toward him and searched his eyes.

          JJ blinked. "What?"

         Izzy rolled her eyes. "Jesus, JJ, ask me to be your fucking girlfriend."

          That made JJ smile. "Isadora Windsor, will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, leaning closer toward her so their faces were only a few inches apart.

          Izzy put a hand on his chest. "First of all, don't call me Isadora. Second of all, um . . . fuck no," she spat as she pushed him back. But a small laugh escaped her lips, giving her away. She was messing with him and he knew, too.

          JJ winced and clasped a hand over his chest. "Ouch, right in the heart," he whined, biting his lip and shaking his head.

          Izzy shook her head. "Obviously I'll be your girlfriend, Seaweed Brain," she said. "But when I do get famous, you're gonna have to deal with the paparazzi bothering you twenty-four-seven."

          "Fine by me," JJ muttered as he gave a small shrug. "I've always wanted to date a celebrity." He stared at her for a second, searching her eyes, and then he smiled. "You know . . . your eyes are pretty?"

          Izzy blinked. Since when was he like . . . this? "Really?"

          "Yeah," he affirmed. "They're green . . . like weed." He bit the inside of his cheek to contain his grin.

          Izzy only rolled her eyes in response. "Okay, fuck you," she laughed, shoving his shoulder. JJ only laughed in response and tipped the beer bottle to his lips, taking a swig.

          But their laughter didn't last long. "Hey, lovebirds, is John B inside by chance?" Kiara asked, causing the two of them to glance over and look at her in confusion.

          Only then did Izzy realize she hadn't seen John B since yesterday afternoon. Maybe he had said something about where he'd be the next day, but she hadn't been listening. The only thing on her mind yesterday was JJ. She was too focused on realizing her feelings toward him that she hadn't bothered to pay attention to the others. Maybe she should have, but . . . whatever. She shook her head at her thoughts and furrowed her brows. "Did he say where he'd be?" she asked, glancing between Pope and Kiara.

          "Yeah," Pope said, nodding his head. "Fishing with Sarah's dad."

          Izzy scrunched her nose in disgust. "Gross."

          "John B pulling a Houdini!" JJ remarked as he rested his beer on the ledge and dipped his other foot into the hot tub. Izzy glanced at him, flicking her eyes down to the bracelets wrapped around his wrists and then absentmindedly reached forward, taking his hand in hers. She toyed with his bracelets, and the ring on his finger as she watched Pope turn the winch to lower the bucket holding Kiara to the ground.

          Pope shook his head and sighed. "He needs to get here soon," he muttered, glancing at Kiara. The girl shot him a smile, which he eagerly returned. "I got my scholarship interview tomorrow. We gotta' get this done."

          And almost like clockwork, John B Routledge emerged from around the corner, twigs snapping under his weight as he trudged through the backyard. His hair was in disarray and his clothes were tattered and dirty, but the look on his face was what caught Izzy's eye. He seemed stuck in a trance with his head lowered to the ground as he shakily breathed in and out. He almost resembled a ghost . . . and Izzy Windsor was all too familiar with ghosts.

          But no one else seemed to notice. "Speak of the devil. Hey!" JJ called over to him as he swung one leg over the hot tub. "Dude, I set up the entire winch to pull up the gold and everything."

          "No, he did not," Pope said, unamused. "I did that."

          But John B didn't acknowledge them. He hopped over a tree branch and trudged up the stairs of his house. He reached the door and swung it open, then barged inside and disappeared into the house, leaving the others in a state of confusion.

          "Okay, that's it?" JJ scoffed.

          "What's that all about?" Pope asked as he and Kiara abandoned their work and approached the two blondes.

          "I was gonna' ask you the same question," JJ said as he swung his other leg over the ledge of the hot tub and jumped down, his feet hitting the ground.

          A few things happened in the span of a few seconds, but it all just felt like a blur to Izzy. She briefly saw the scene play out in front of her as JJ helped her climb out of the hot tub as well, while the others took off after John B and entered the house. JJ's hand lingered on the small of her back before he, too, raced up the stairs and stepped inside. Izzy followed after him, but she wasn't thinking straight. She knew something was wrong. She had seen the look on John B's face. It was the same look she wore for months after her mother died. Something had happened, and Izzy knew it wasn't good.

          With those thoughts plaguing her mind, Izzy entered the Chateau and discovered the others standing by as they watched John B frantically search through the drawers and cabinets crowding his house. The look on his face never faltered, and Izzy only grew more anxious. She had done the same thing when her mother died. She had rummaged through her mother's bedroom many times, searching for anything to remind her of the woman, yet she never found anything and it only drove her more rampant. John B was showing the same behavior that made everyone believe Izzy was a basket case, and she knew there had to be a cause for his actions. But she didn't want to admit it.

          Pope was the first to step up. "You all right, man?" he asked as he clamped a hand down on John B's shoulder. "What—What's up?" But John B continued rummaging through the cabinets, ignoring his friend.

          "You look like you've seen a ghost," was all Izzy could manage. Her voice was quiet, but JJ seemed to catch onto the tone of her voice, and the next second, his hand was sliding into hers. He interlocked their fingers together, and Izzy felt slightly calmer, but she still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling.

          "What are you looking for?" Kiara asked, concern dripping from her tongue.

          JJ slipped his hand out of Izzy's, and stepped forward. "Bro, what's going on?" he asked the Routledge boy.

          But John B still didn't acknowledge them. He pushed past Pope and darted for the couch, rummaging through the cushions. He halted in his actions and inhaled sharply as he pulled out a gun and stared at it.

          Izzy's eyes widened. "What the fuck?" she muttered. She didn't know what to think. She wasn't sure if she was thinking anymore.

          "John B, what do you need the gun for?" JJ asked as he glanced at the others before he turned his attention back to John B. He stepped forward and approached the boy, putting his hands on both sides of John B's arms in an attempt to calm him down. "Talk to us."

          But his words didn't cement in John B's head. It seemed the Routledge boy was too far gone, the demons clouding his head taking over his body. He was simply a vessel. This John B lookalike only responded by grabbing onto JJ and shoving him onto the sofabed before trudging away from him with the gun tightly gripped in his hand. Izzy quickly moved out of the way, backing up against the wall as she watched John B push past Kiara and enter the kitchen.

          Pope, however, wasn't having it. He stepped in front of John B with his hands out in front of him. "What are you doing?" he asked, searching the boy's face for any recognition of his friend. But John B only pushed Pope out of his way, sending the Heyward boy into the kitchen table. And that was what had Pope fuming as he released a scoff and shook his head. "What? Are you JJ now?"

          But John B was already gone.

          Izzy tore her eyes from the door and glanced at JJ. She went for him, wrapping a hand around his arm as her other hand found its way to his face. She briefly checked if he was hurt, to which he only nodded to affirm he was all right, and then she was helping him to his feet. He grabbed his red cap from the sofa and put it back on to cover his blond waves.

          The two of them glanced toward the kitchen, briefly catching sight of Kiara as she ran after John B. The remaining three teenagers shared a look before they took off after the girl and weaved their way to the front of the house. Pope barged through the front door first with JJ following after him. Izzy followed as well, but she stopped at the top of the stairs, unable to move.

          "John B, what the hell are you doing?" Kiara yelled, but Izzy barely heard her, she was too in her own head to focus on reality. She couldn't move. She felt like a ghost herself, being reminded of the horrors death held.

          The thing was: Izzy didn't know John B as well as the others. She had only heard things from Sarah, and she always spoke highly of the boy. He didn't seem that bad, and she knew deep down, he wouldn't have normally done something like this. She knew the look plaguing his face all too well, and she knew something bad had happened to make him act this way. The others had said he went fishing with Ward . . . so maybe . . . maybe Ward was dead. Izzy's heart sank at the thought. She couldn't handle any more death, especially the death of someone she had known since she was a kid. And fuck, poor Sarah.

          But Izzy tried to push past her thoughts and stepped down the stairs. Her feet hit the ground, but she halted there, watching as John B looked into the truck's driver's side, searching for a set of keys. When he couldn't find any, he released a groan and kicked the truck before he turned around and went for the motorbike resting beside the truck. He hopped on the bike and revved the engine a few times, desperately trying to get it to start.

          "Dude!" Pope exclaimed.

          "Where the hell are you going?" JJ yelled, slapping his arms against his sides in agitation.

          The engine roared to life and John B sighed. He slowly turned his head to look at the others. "Ward knows about the gold!" he yelled over the hum of the engine. "He killed my dad!" And then he was off, his bike racing down the dirt path and into the unknown.

          The others raced after him, but Izzy stood still, unable to move. Ward had killed John B's father. He killed him. He was a murderer. The man she knew since she was a kid had blood on his hands. Another person had died at the hands of one of her family friends. She wouldn't have believed it had she not recognized the look on John B's face. But she did recognize it and she knew that wasn't the face of a liar. This was real. It was too real.

          She couldn't bring herself to move. She barely even breathed. She hated death, and the thought of blood made her sick to her stomach, but the thought of someone she once trusted murdering another human being, made her want to sink into the ground. She wondered if her father had ever done the same, and that made her want to scream. Her heart swelled in her chest and her blood burned with flames. Her emotions were flying off the charts, jumbling in her mind, and she only knew one thing for certain: Ward Cameron was a murderer.

          The Cameron name had been tainted by spilt blood, and Izzy wondered just how many people had died under the Windsors' authority. Surely, the line between the Camerons and the Windsors wasn't that grand. The families were both disgustingly wealthy, and they had the dark secrets to show for it. And Izzy wondered how many people were made victims to the Windsor way? She didn't want to think about it, but the gears in her brain wouldn't cease turning.

          Isadora Windsor.

          It wasn't just a name. It was a symbol. It was a legacy stained with blood, and she was still connected to it. That blood was on her hands.

a/n: a few things: sorry it took so long to update 🙈 i was dealing with plagiarizers, so with that being said if you guys see a fic that's similar to mine can y'all shoot me a message or smth 🥺 ❤️ pls!! and if i call you out, own up to it. you DON'T get to steal from me and then lie to me. it makes no sense. so pls stop & pls tell me if you see anything that copies my writing or plot. thank you. <3

also also in case it wasn't clear, i don't support billionaires. i think they should stfu and spread their damn wealth. so let's murder william, yes? yes.

ALSO y'all need to read my baby blue's jj fic "the sun & her flowers"!!! it's my favorite one & her writing is *chef's kiss* !!

thank you for reading!