BREE AND JJ RODE THEIR MOTORCYCLES TO THE KILDARE COUNTY DETENTION CENTER. Once they parked the bikes and hopped off of them, JJ, who had his headphones blaring so loud that the Callaway girl swore she could hear his music while they were driving, stuck a toothpick in his mouth.

They pulled their sunglasses over their eyes and walked toward the entrance of the center. They passed a couple of guards, and JJ saluted them. However, as soon as they passed, he flipped them off to their backs, causing the brunette girl to roll her eyes at his antics.

"I'm here to see John B Routledge," the Maybank boy announced loudly to the man sitting at the front desk once they entered.

The man got up from his seat, glancing between the girl that seemed sane and the boy that seemed, and was, crazy. "No music, and get rid of the toothpick."

"I can't hear what you're saying, man, all right? These things are on full blast. That's what I said. I'm here to see John B Routledge," the blonde boy repeated, and then the man mimed taking headphones of his head and a toothpick out of his mouth. When JJ still did not do anything, Bree elbowed him in the ribs. He realized and followed the orders. "Wait. Music? Oh! I mean, I thought it was a free country and all, but, uh, I guess you don't like freedom very much, now do you, cupcake? "

The man then angrily pushed the boy up against the wall, but before he could do anything and before the Callaway girl could do anything to stop him from hurting her friend, a woman's voice came from the hallway. "Uh, not worth it."

"Good to see you, Plumb. Nice to have something in your mouth. You know?" JJ told her, talking about the toothpick that he just took out of his mouth.

Bree sighed, knowing that him talking was not going to get them anywhere, so she mustered up the best smile she could and told the woman next to her in the polistest voice possible, "We'd like to see John B."

"Yeah," she muttered in response before looking at both of them and ordering, "Take off your hats and empty your pockets."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded mockingly, and they did as they were told, placing their belongings on the counter of the front desk.

She led them down a hallway and toward a room that John B was in. His back was to them, but Bree would recognize that hair anywhere. When Plumb opened the door, she told them, "Five minutes." They nodded before walking and sitting at the table across from the Routledge boy. They stared at each other for a second before they all started laughing.

"I thought it was gonna be me," the Maybank boy said, referring to who of them would end up in jail.

The brunette girl could help but agree, "Yeah, same."

"I did too," John B informed them, chuckling through the sentence. They quieted down, and then he gestured to the room that they were sitting in. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Yeah, when you said you had a new apartment, I had no idea. It's cozy. Nice aluminum theme," the other male joked, resulting in a small giggle from the girl beside him.

The brunette boy nodded. "Yeah I like to go for the cold, dark, alone kind of theme. You know, depressing."

"I may need to borrow your interior designer," the Callaway girl told him, and he cracked a smile at that.

JJ then stopped the small talk and his face went serious. Well, as serious as JJ Maybank can get. "Look, I would love to sit and chitchat, but I'm on the clock. And I'm here for one reason only, okay? Operation liberation, baby."

"Oh boy. Here we go. You're with him on this?" the Routledge boy questioned, raising his eyebrows at Bree who just shrugged. It was not the worst plan that she had ever heard come out of JJ's mouth, but it certainly was not the best.

"I know. I know. Hear me out, though. Hear me out. Step one, piss off the cops so badly they don't see what's coming." The blonde boy waved smugly to one of the guard passing by then, causing the man to glare. "Check. Step two, at exactly 11 p.m. this evening, you're going to have an attack of acute appendicitis."

Bree furrowed her eyebrows, shocked that she did not ask the question when he told her the plan beforehand. "Do you even know what appendicitis is?"

"Yeah," he answered, looking over at his best friend who also looked skeptical and reminded him, "Remember eighth grade? Algebra final? Worked like a charm, okay? Now, to sell it, you gotta actually look sick, though, okay? You got some of that ghost face sunblock in here? "

"JJ, I'm in jail. I have—a—a block of soap. That's it," John B informed them, and it made sense because why the hell would he have sun block in prison.

After a second of thinking, her eyes widened, and her head shot up to look at him as she quizzed, "Is it white?"

"Yes," he said hesitantly, and JJ looked to the girl next to him like she was more of a genius than Pope, which was pretty hard.

"Perfect. That'll work. Take some of that. Rub it into your face well, okay? You don't want that shit rubbing off when they check your vitals. After that, run your hands under cold water for five minutes. After that, you're ready. Showtime, baby. Stumble out and collapse, okay? Once you're down on the ground squealing, they'll rush you to the infirmary. There, you just gotta convince the nurse that that sucker's about to burst. Okay? So, she's gonna take her hand, and she's gonna put it right here, okay?" the Maybank boy explained to him before lifting up Bree's arm that was resting on the table and putting his hand on her ribcage as a model. As he did so, she was sure that he could feel her heart beating out of her chest. "Right there. When she does that, she pushes down, don't do anything. Just lay there. It's when she takes her hand off that you let it rip, man. Scream like your life depends on it, like a lobster hitting the pot, like you're passing a kidney stone the size of a bowling ball."

John B put his hand up to stop him as he removed his from the Callaway girl's stomach, causing her to frown quickly, but it was so quick that the Routledge boy thought that he imagined it. "I get it. I get it. Then what? "

"They're gonna eject you to the hospital. Remember Cousin Ricky? He's an EMT" the blonde boy questioned with raised eyebrows.

The Routledge boy looked down at the table as he whispered, "He sold us our first dime bag."

"So? You can do both. Gig economy, bro," JJ told him, causing the brunette girl to furrow her eyebrows. Those two occupations did not seem to go hand in hand. "Okay, but step three is extraction. "

"This is the dumbest freaking idea you've ever had," John B muttered exasperatedly.

The Maybank boy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're probably right, but you know what's even more dumb? You thinking you got any other way out of this."

"Actually, there's probably a lot mer ways out of this," Bree pointed out, and he just glared at her because she was not helping the cause.

"Guys, this is a fortress," John B let them know despite the fact they walked past all those security measures on the way in there. What, you think you'll just stroll in here? They've got barbed wire, cinder blocks, guards on every corner."

JJ stopped him. "John B, don't. You're not the detail guy, okay? Leave it to the professionals."

"Hey! Time's up," called a voice as the door opened, and they looked up to see Plumb standing there and gesturing for them to leave.

"Yes, ma'am," the blonde boy told her before mumbling to his best friend as quietly as he could. "You gotta trust me on this one. Nothing to lose now. Eleven p.m."

They began their walk out, but before they could leave, they walked past a door with a window, and what they saw in there made JJ freeze. It was his father, playing basketball with the other inmates. Bree had only seen Luke Maybank a handful of times throughout her entire life, but she was sure that it was him once the blonde boy started yelling, "Dad! Dad! Dad!"

"Let's go," Plumb ordered, pushing him forward while the Callaway girl reached over to rub his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

"I see what you did there, Plumb," he told her bitterly as she led them outside and to the stairs. He looked back at the woman holding him frustratedly. "I just have one question before I leave. How much are you splitting with Shoupe?"

That did not make her happy, so she just shoved him down the stairs. Bree was about to lunge at her, but JJ shook his head, knowing it would only make things worse. It was one of only times that he actually though rationally. "You'll be back here one day. It's in your blood." So, as they walked down and climbed on their motorcycles again, the Callaway girl mumbled something that the woman that was watching them from the door could hear.

"Bitch."