☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

IT'S NOT EVERYDAY I'M woken up by a fucking church bell.

   It's bright. So bright. I block the sun from my eyes, reaching out by finding myself in an empty bed. Where's Bailey? I fix my shorts that have ridden up, scratching at my chest as I leave the guest room. The bells are louder and louder. It's John B. I know it's John B with some child like hope that Big John will hear them and appear at the house. My heart aches for him. He just got him back and he's already fighting for his father's life.

The familiar sounds of seagulls squawking sound as I step onto the back porch. On the couch, JJ groans himself awake and Bailey is smoking a blunt on the stairs. "How long has he been at it?" I ask, pointing at John B and the bell. "Long enough that I couldn't ignore it," JJ grunts. JB rings the bell one more time before walking back over to us. We have matching bruised fists now. Truly a best friend moment.

"Morning, Sam," JB ruffles my hair. "Mhm," I hum, taking the blunt from Bailey. "Hey, what the hell?" Bailey yells. I inhale. It's been a while since I smoked and I'm sure my lungs were thankful for it but as the smoke rolls down my lungs, I like the burn, the taste of weed. I blow the smoke from my mouth, handing Bailey back the blunt before plopping down at the couch next to JJ.

"Morning?" I say more as a question. I'm trying to gauge his reaction. JJ smiles a tired smile at me, scooting closer to rest a kiss on my cheek, "Morning, princess."

So he's not mad anymore? Good. This is good. Skateboard wheels roll across the porch. "It's something about that dude's face, you know?" John B bitterly says, "Like the whole, no hard feelings, bro. You know what I'm saying?" He mimics Topper oddly well. "No hard feelings. It's kinda hard to not have hard feelings about that," JJ chuckles.

Bailey lays back against the porch, "Kooks take what they want. It's what they're used to."

"I know. It's just that—that look. That Kook look, you know?" John B asks. "It was clear provucation," JJ says. That's the wrong word. I knit my eyebrows together, "Provocation," I correct him.

"Provocation, and, uh, I mean, you had to do what you had to do. No choice about it," JJ says.

"Punching Topper was the right move. Also the multiple blows considering he's tried to kill you. Twice," I say with a tilt of my head. "Thanks for the reminder," He sarcastically says.

"Yeah, no problem, man," I match his sarcasm.

"No choice. We gotta figure out a plan to get to South America, like, yesterday. They've got my dad," John B says as he walks into the house. I'm so tired. My arm is sore but we follow him nonetheless.

"John B, I'm hungry," Bailey groans, mimicking the sound her hungry stomach would make. "Me too, bro. You got any food real quick?" JJ asks.

"So I was thinking passports. We don't have those."

"No, we don't," I add, "Commercial is out of the plan."

"Yup. We need other ideas," John B swings the fridge door open. "Okay, well, don't you got the money you took from Portis?" JJ asks. "I gave that to my dad," John B says, sniffing a stick of meat. "I can smell it from here," I choke. It's bad. It smells like a rotting corpse which is essentially what meat is. Gross.

John B gags as well. "If we got a boat, maybe we could get down there 'cause the HMS.....you know the HMS. Oh, Limbrey! Limbrey has a boat!" JJ grabs the meat stick, "What if we took that one down?"

Bailey is opening the cabinets, groaning when she realizes they're all empty. It's a miracle when the Chateau does have food so I don't know what she expected. "Yeah, she took that back and the HMS is not gonna make it down to the Port of Spain, so out on the boats," John B sighs.

"Uh, the boys have a boat. If I explain what's happening they'd let us take it," I say. "No, I don't want them involved. It'll only put them at risk and you can't lose any more father figures," John B shrugs. I gasp, hand to my chest. He's not wrong but Jesus, how many do I have to have to make up for the hole in my heart Weston has made?

"So, what you're saying is," JJ starts to talk but I can tell he's eating something. It's the meat stick. He's gonna get sick. John B and I share a grossed out look but JJ continues, "....we don't got any money, and we also don't have a boat that can make it to South America. Actually, I might know a guy."

"Oooh. Don't like this already," Bailey quirks. "It's fine. This guy likes me. I swear. Okay, I might be onto something," JJ rolls his eyes.

With my back turned to the kitchen window, I hear a car pull up. Oh, fuck me! It's Shoupe. The stupid fuck. "Ah, fuck!" I curse, ducking behind the sink. Did Adrien or Topper press charges? Shit, maybe both. "What? Why that?" John B whips his head around, "Fuck!" He curses, falling to the ground next to me. Bailey and JJ share a confused glance. "What's your problem?" Bailey asks but JB and I shush her, pulling JJ and Bailey down to the floor.

"Get down! Shoupe is out front right now!" John B harshly whispers. I can hear the truck door close. "What do we do?" I ask frantically.

"Alright, John B!" Shoupe shouts. This isn't good. No more getting arrested. This will only fuck up the plans more.

"Shit!" JJ curses and we all immediately start crawling on the floor, muttering to each other about how stupid the other is. "Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?" Shoupe shouts.

Shit. He's walking up the stairs. JJ and John B shove themselves under a desk. "What the fuck?" I whisper. There's no way Bailey and I are fitting under there. "Asshats," Bailey whispers and we crawl under another desk ahead of us.

Shoupe knocks on the door, "I know you're here!"

"He sees you, it's game over. Maybe even for Sam too if Calt pressed charges," JJ whispers. Can he shut up? "I know, JJ."

"Shut the fuck up," I whisper at the two boys and they press their lips together. Shoupe knocks again, "I know you can hear me in there. You need to come out and talk to me. It'll be a whole lot worse if you don't." There's a moment of silence. The only thing I can hear is my heart beating out of my ass. Bailey and I watch as his nearly balding head walks down the stairs and to his truck.

"Okie-doke. Have it your way!" Shoupe shouts, "You know where you can find me." His truck engine starts and I listen to it pull away. "Okay, go!" Bailey shouts and we all crawl out from under the desks. That hurt my back and sore arm. "Come on. Go," John B pushes on JJ's ass. "Alright. I got a plan! I think it might work. It's a little sketchy. Might not like it, but I think it will work," JJ says.

"Hm, no. Tell me the plan first," I put a hand to JJ's chest and it's only now that I notice he's changed into a red muscle tee. It's one I've told him many times he looks good in. Whether he did it on purpose, I don't know but I really hate that we're doing a mission right now. Maybe I am deprived. Holy shit.

"Tell us the plan," John B grabs him by the shoulder. "If I tell y'all now when the plan is half baked, you'll get all negative!" JJ says. "Woah, I only like half baked things when it's me so, get the full plan together, Maybank!" Bailey shoves him by the shoulder. JJ's eyes bounce between all three of us. "I'd settle for a half baked plan!" John B retorts.

JJ makes a noise at us though, mocking us as he laces our fingers together, "Let's go!"

"Don't you dare make that noise at me!" John B yells. I giggle, closing my dropped jaw at JJ's child like action.

"At least tell us where we're going!" I shout. He swings the door open to the Twinkie for me but I stand my ground. "Oh my God. Do you trust me?" JJ holds my cheeks in his hands, squeezing them. "Of course—"

"Alright, get in the van!" JJ gestures.

"Horrible sentences to say to two teen girls for 200 dollars?" Bailey quirks, stepping into the van. "No one wants to kidnap you, Perez. They'd pay us to take you back," JJ teases, slamming the door.

THE PLACE JJ PULLS up to is all too familiar for me. Rockfish. The shadiest bar on The Cut. Weston's favorite bar. And where my mom used to work.

I used to go here a lot when my parents were still together. We'd say we're grabbing mom but then Weston would drink and drink and before we knew it, we'd have to carry him to the car after a long day of my mom working.

"Oh, perfect. Rockfish. The place you go to bash beer bottles on peoples heads," John B remarks, "Love that for us."

I don't think I ever told JJ what bar it was, I'm pretty sure I blocked the name out until now. "There's a guy here, that's always here, moves a lot of weight. My dad worked for him," JJ says. I'm tearing at the inside of my lip. It's gotta be Mike. Not Carrera but there's another Mike. A shady Mike.

Bailey gets the van door open and hops out. I hesitate though and Bailey notices. "Yo, you good?" She asks and that catches the boy's attention. Now all eyes are on me. I hate it so I suck it up. "Yeah, just tired. Zoned out," I shrug. JJ's eyes stay on me though. It's like I can feel his eyebrow raise when I don't acknowledge him.

"Wait, wait," John B pauses, "Please don't say Barracuda Mike."

"Okay, I won't," JJ says. I was right. It is Mike. All I can do is sigh and walk into the sticky bar. It's full of regulars so when four teenagers walk in, we're the center of attention. "There has to be another option, Maybank," Bailey curls her lip, looking around the bar. "Oh, you know what? You're right. There is a better option. Except there's not. Alright, y'all? Seriously, we don't have a lot of time, and your dad needs help right now and this guy is gonna be the key to getting down to South America ASAP. Trust me on this one," JJ points to Mike.

His hair is gray now and all I can hope is that he doesn't recognize me. It's been years. I've hit puberty in that time. My hair is no longer blue.

"Let me do the talking, okay?" JJ speaks and squeezes my hand before letting go, "Yo, Mike! Yo!" He chuckles and there's a hint of nervousness in it, "You remember me, right?"

Mike holds a knife up from cutting fish, spotting us four teens walking over.

"It's on the tip of your tongue. J—"

"Luke's son!" Mike exclaims. I sigh, blowing a low raspberry from my mouth. He stabs the knife in the wood next to the dead fish. "That works too," JJ says, "Uh, also go by JJ but this here are my good friends, John B and Bailey and my girlfriend—"

"Sam," Mike finishes for JJ. Fuck. And here I thought I looked nothing like I did when I was younger. I stand corrected. The other three stutter, confused on how Mike knows me. "Sup," I say, giving a small wave to the man.

"I've heard stories about you guys," Mike says. "Uh-oh," John B instinctively lets out. Bailey leans her back against the wall next to me but we both notice a very tall dude walking towards us. "I mean, he's a stone cold cop k—killer," JJ stutters, noticing him as well. "No, I'm not," John B quickly denies. I snort. The dude is just tall, nothing to be scared of.

"Mike, I'm gonna be honest about why we're here, okay? We're a little bit in a—a patch of trouble, and we're trying to get down to South America if that's—"

"I'm sorry, slick, but I done sold the travel agency," Mike shrugs. Of course he did.

"I mean, we're not looking for some free handout here, alright? We understand its a two way road. Symbiotic relationship."

"Like Venom and....Eddie," I smile. Really? Do I just say shit without thinking? I want to facepalm as they all pause but instead I give a tight lipped smile, eyes wandering over the rusty decorations. Nothing here has changed.

"That's what we're trying to get at," JJ continues, "We just need to parlee—"

"Parley," John B and Bailey correct him before I can. "Parley is what he's saying."

"Parley, in, um—in private, if that's cool with you," JJ keeps glancing at the tall dude next to Bailey and I. Mike puts his rag down with a small nod. "Alright, stay here—"

"And Vernon," Mike says. My eyes widen. "Uh, can I ask why?" I question. Mike chuckles, "If you're anything like your father, you'll need to listen to instructions carefully. Come on."

JJ glances down at me, "Mike, I can relay—"

"Let's just go. He never hated me. All good," I assure JJ. I flash help me eyes at John B and Bailey before my boyfriend and I scoot past the tall boy to follow Mike.

"Okay. Cool," Bailey whispers when we walk away.

The man leads us to a dock and JJ is already getting on convincing Mike. "Look, I know you got planes coming in with bales of weed from South America, and they need to be unloaded, right? That's what my dad did for you. I can do the same thing, Mike. He would come home and brag about how much he made in one night, which was 10k, right? That's a lot of cheddar. We're willing to do it for way cheaper," JJ wiggles his finger between him and I, "Like—like free."

Mike scoffs, "Nothing's free. Not for a Vernon. And not for a Maybank."

I somehow forgot the beef Mike and Weston had or have. Whatever jobs he did for Mike, he obviously fucked him over but the two just didn't get along in general, only when it was beneficial money wise. If I'm gonna be treated like Weston's demon spawn, I might as well act like it.

I cross my arms, "You're right. There's a price for everything. Especially for a Vernon. But, I'm not Weston. Might be a surprise but I'm not. Whatever we need to do for you, we'll do. Unlike Weston," I give a sarcastic smile. Mike gives a smirk, "What do you need from me first?"

JJ seems distracted because when I look at him, his eyes won't leave me. I have to nudge him to get him to speak because I have no idea what the boy's plan is. "We just need a little spot in the cargo hold," JJ practically begs. "You just want a ride," Mike whispers. "Just want a ride in that cargo hold. And then in exchange, you get four sets of free hands and another 40k in your pocket. I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty damn free to me. What do you think, babe?" JJ asks me with a chuckle.

"Pretty fucking free," I chuckle as well, "What do you say?" He probably thinks he's making a deal with the devil right now and maybe he is.

Mike smiles but it's not genuine, I can tell. With a quick explanation of the job at hand, I'm realizing we might've been the ones to make a deal with the devil.

"5:30!" Mike shouts as JJ and I walk away.

"5:30 tonight. We'll be there. Yes, sir!" JJ shouts back. When we get back to Bailey and John B it's painfully obvious they've been trying to make conversation with no success. "Nice to meet you fellas—"

"Alright, come on," I grab them both and tug them out of the bar. Finally, we're out of there but now we have to explain the task at hand to John B and Bailey who I doubt will be happy. "Okay. We do we gotta do?" John B asks as we approach the Twinkie. "A little something," JJ vaguely says. "Hm, doesn't sound suspicious at all. What are we doing?" Bailey questions. I grit my teeth, "It's fine. It's a small job!"

"Everytime JJ says a little something, it's never a little something."

"You're getting negative."

"Yeah, well—"

"Alright," JJ spins on his heel, "It's literally the easiest job in the world, bro. We just unload it. You know what they do on planes? You know on Delta and United when they take the bags off of the—that's what we're doing, okay? Once we do that, we punch our tickets, go on to South America, sipping on pina coladas, alright?" JJ opens the door for us but Bailey and John B don't move.

"What?" I ask.

"What the fuck are we unloading? Rafe Cameron's coke supply? What is it?" Bailey frantically questions. JJ and I glance at each other. "Ah, nope. I didn't like that," John B points at us. "Like what?" JJ and I ask in unison. "That look. That look you guys gave each other," John B says. I'd rather it not be a surprise by the time we get there and cause a scene with these two. I'm not fond of the idea either but it's all we got.

"Weed. A lot of weed. Into a plane," I bite the bullet.

Both of them huff, letting out whines of disapproval.

"Really? A whole truck?!" Bailey yells through gritted teeth. "You can smoke some. Come on. We got an hour to get there!" JJ shrugs it off and tosses the keys to John B.

"I can't—I can't believe this," John B throws his hands up. "I'm gonna get arrested," Bailey groans. "You're not gonna get arrested, Bailey," I say but who knows what the fuck could happen? We get into the Twinkie, shutting the door. "I do. I'm not white and unloading a truck of weed? I'm arrested!" Bailey reiterates.

"It's fine. I swear," JJ says.

"No. It's not," John B comments, starting the van.

JOHN B STOPS THE VAN in the spot Mike told us to, immediately voicing his skepticism as we hop out. It's not like we're unrecognizable anymore. The faces people once never took a second glance at are now known around the island.

"Bro, you two are worrying way too much about this, okay? It is just farmers who brought organic seeds from South America that we are gonna unload," JJ sugarcoats it. Bailey presses her lips together, "This is a drug smuggling operation—"

"Okay, ignore that part and focus on John B's dad!" I exclaim, clapping my hands together. "Alright, but it's my dad and I'm having a hard time focusing when there's drugs in the back of the truck. Look, this has to work out. I doubted him, I blamed him and all this time, he was just trying to protect me. And now he's been abducted, so I kinda need a bit of a—"

"John B!" JJ grabs him, tired of the rambling, "Okay, listen, listen. I know. You know who you're gonna have to trust right now? Papa J," JJ points to himself.

  Papa J? That's new. Not a good new either. "Papa J?" I question. "You use the other form of that, darlin'," JJ winks, lacing our fingers. Blood rushes to my cheeks, remembering the times I have called him something along the lines of that. I can feel JJ's smirk as he stares at me. "You're gross," Bailey scoffs. "Truly," John B adds.

We get to a clearing in the woods. Holy shit. There's an old, very large and rusty plane surrounded by much nicer cars. "Holy shit, look at that thing," John B says. "Yeah, dude. It's like an RV with wings," JJ comments.

Past the black Mustang, I spot a UHAUL with people unloading the drugs. Are we late? I don't think we are. "I thought we were on time," I ask. "Oh, shit," JJ curses as we approach the men, "Yo! We aren't late, are we?" JJ shouts over to them. "No," Mike answers, "...there was a change of plan though."

Oh. I don't like that. I thought we were just unloading. What else could we possibly do?

"What's, uh, what's the change?" I ask.

Mike puts a lanyard with keys against JJ's chest, "You four are gonna drive the truck up to Elizabeth City to make the drop. The address is in the truck. There'll be a dummy car for you to use to come back. The plane will still be waiting."

We're driving the truck. The truck full of weed. I don't think Weston ever did this. I know he sold meth for a couple years. That's worse, I assume.

"Wonderful," Bailey mutters under her breath. "Right. Okay, so, um—you just want us to drive the truck?" JJ asks Mike. "Correct," The older man says, eyes falling on me but he looks away, handing JJ the key. He gives me a look. We don't really have a choice. Whether we want to do this or not, we're stuck in it now. JJ goes to grab it after I nod a slow yes.

"Actually, can I borrow them for a minute?" John B asks and suddenly we're both being dragged over by our shoulders. The four of us huddle up but Bailey and JB are glaring. "This wasn't the plan!" Bailey whispers. "I'm aware it wasn't the plan!" I retort. "This is way more dangerous," John B says through gritted teeth.

"It don't matter what we talked about. In for a penny, in for a pound," Mike says. Eavesdropper.

"You do this, you get your ride."

"Okay, but—"

   Mike interrupts me, "If you don't do this—you two know how this works, right?" His question brings up our father's pasts. There's men all around us who don't care about assaulting some teenagers. They'll beat us until we're bloody with no way out except to crawl.

Even knowing that, my glare matches Mike's. He chuckles, leaning down thanks to his tall height, "Your glare don't scare me. Looks exactly like your father's."

"Well, I'm not my dad, so," I spit back. JJ's hand falls on my shoulder, pulling me closer to him, his other hand rubbing my arm up and down in an attempt to say, calm down. I hadn't even realized I stepped in front of JJ. "Highway patrol is changing shifts as we speak. This is the window. Take it to the drop house on Prospect. Directions are in the truck. Any luck we'll have you back before sundown," Mike chuckles, "Come on. Take the key," Mike shoves the key harder into JJ's chest.

    JJ's hand tenses on my shoulder. I know the battle within him right now because I feel the same way. The battle of living up to our last names. We got ourselves in this, now there's no turning back. Even if we try to, we won't get very far.

"Yeah," JJ takes the key, "No problem. Get in the truck," JJ says, walking off. John B and Bailey hesitate. We have no choice. My teeth tear at my lips. I give in, pulling the truck door closed. I take one more look at the two. "Come on," I motion, sliding down the long truck seat right next to JJ.

"Think my dad is laughing up at me from hell?" I jokingly ask. JJ gives a fake smile, "Shit. At least you know where yours is."

"Let Luke rot, babe. Let 'em rot."

The passenger door opens again and Bailey and John B, who don't look happy at all, slide in. "Hi—"

"Shut up," They both shout.

———

i know i said this last book but the wait for s4 is obviously much longer than s3 was. so i was thinking of making a one shot book of these characters—? would u guys want that?

also she looks so pretty in the gif