The very next day, after crashing at John B's, we all woke up early and headed out to the Pawn Shop to cash in the gold. We'd melted down the bars that morning, after figuring out a plan to later retrieve all 400 million from under Ms Crain's house.

The whole morning, JJ and I hadn't spoken a word to each other, and the other Pogues were acting like nothing had happened.

JJ was given the task of selling the 8 pounds of gold to the pawnbroker, as he was the best liar.

"I always do the work," he grumbled.

"Shut the fuck up!" I shoved him against the brick wall of the store, holding up his collar of his shirt. "Do your fucking job, and quite complaining," I snarled.

"I don't see you helping," JJ said coldly. He bashed his forehead forwards, contacting with my nose. I jerked back, clutching it, as it began to gush blood.

"What the hell!" I kicked him in the balls, and he bent over, groaning.

"You—little—cunt—" he wheezed.

"Alright, cut the crap!" Kiara stepped between us, right as I was about to kick JJ again. "JJ, get in the fucking store and sell the goddamn piece of gold! And Mercedes, shut your damn mouth! Both of you!"

JJ shoulder-shoved me out of the way as he entered the store, I scowled, and followed him inside.

The pawnbroker couldn't believe her eyes when JJ showed her the 8 pounds of gold, and after a lot of debate, she said she would have to go to the back to talk to her boss. JJ made up this lame excuse that he got the gold from his mother, who happened to have Alchmizers.

"Really? Alcmizers?" I scoffed.

"Like you couldn't do better," he said.

Before I could punch the living lights out of him, the lady came back. She told us we'd have to go to a warehouse out back to get the cash. Grumbling, JJ and the rest of us left, jumped in the Twinkie, and drove out.

Unfortunately, as we passed the rows and rows of endless trees, it didn't seem like we would be getting anywhere closer to the apparently money out there. And not two seconds later, we were pulled over from what sounded like cop sirens. Unfortunately, it was the opposite, and we were getting robbed. The old bat had sold us out, and here she'd sent one of her troopers after us to fetch the 8 pounds of gold.

After John B had jumped the robber, and the rest of us went to assist him, I snatched the mask off him. It was Barry, and I had seen him selling Coke to Rafe and Topper before. He was a rugrat, the lowest of the low, and he disgusted us all.

JJ rummaged through Barry's pockets, and grabbed his ID. "We got one more stop to make," he marched up to the Twinkie, and we followed him. "See where this fucker lives." Uneasily, I followed JJ into the car. JJ had a nasty temper, and right now, it seemed like it was all over the place.

Barry lived in a rusty old trailer, near the Cut side of the OBX, and the place needed a major lawn mower job, ASAP.

"Welcome to Crackhead Wasteland," I hopped out of the Twinkie, kicking a stray can of beer.

"This'll only take a second," JJ jumped out, and ran inside the Twinkie.

I sighed, "I'll watch the idiot," and followed him.

Inside Barry's trailer, the place was an equal dump. "JJ? What are you doing?" I called out to him from the kitchen.

I could hear JJ throwing shit around in the bedroom, and he yelled back, "None of your beeswax!"

"JJ!" I said, pissed now.

"An eye for an eye! Getting even," he popped back in the kitchen, grinning ear to ear.

"So we're stealing from drug dealers now?!" I took the duffle bag that was filled with cash from JJ's arms and threw it on the floor.

"I'm tired of being messed with!" JJ roared.

I took a step back, "Okay ..."

"Besides, what do you care. You've never had to work a day in your life," JJ snatched up the duffle bag again.

"You know nothing about me," I shoved him angriely. "So shut the fuck up!"

"I know you, believe me. I know you're just like your daddy," he said nastily.

"Shut up! Shut up, JJ!" I yelled.

"I'm taking my money, so move out of the way."

I continued to block the door of the trailer "So what's your genius plan then, huh? He's going to come after us—and what're you going to do then!"

"Punch him back," JJ started to head out of the trailer, but I shoved him back.

"Great fuckin' idea, JJ! He's going to come after us!" I yelled.

"Yeah, well, unlike you, I actually need this money," JJ glared, and stormed out of the trailer.

"JJ! Get the fuck back here with that money!" I shouted after him, and followed him outside.

JJ was already distributing out the cash to the other Pogues who were out milling around in the yard.

"We get 5K each—What're you all looking at me like that—c'mon, Pope, take the goddamn money!" JJ waved a wad of cash in front of Pope's face, but he refused to take it.

"Put it back, JJ," Sarah said.

"Yeah," John B said.

"Come on! This is 25K, all right here!" JJ shook the duffle bag.

"It's wrong, JJ!" I said.

"What tells you all of this—" he waved his hands at the Pogues and Sarah and I—"is wrong? Huh?"

"JJ," Kiara said quietly.

"We're sick of your shit," I told him.

"My shit?!"

"Yeah," I said coldly.

You know what?" JJ stood up, holding the duffle bag full of money. "Yeah, I don't need you all. I don't need all you shitters, so I'll just be off on my own." He stormed away, on foot.

"JJ—hey, wait!" Pope started after him, but John B held him back.

"Let him go," he said wisely.

↬——✾——↫

As we drove in the Twinkie back into town, we talked about JJ running off.

"Do you think he'll go home?" Sarah asked.

"There's about a zero percent chance that JJ goes home," Kiara scoffed.

"How come?" I asked from the seat beside Kiara.

Kiara, John B, and Pope all looked at each other. Pope finally just said, "He and his dad ... have some—"

"Beef?" Sarah said.

"No ... uh, it's complicated," was all Pope said.

"How complicated?" I pressed.

"He hits him, sometimes," John B said quietly.

Everyone fell silent.

JJ's dad hit him? I remembered back at Midsummers, JJ had arrived, his face all bruised purple. Had his dad really done that? But when looking at Popes, Kiara's, and John B's faces, I knew the truth.

"He won't go home, right?" I asked the others. No one responded, "I said he won't go home, right?!" I said even louder.

"Of course not," Kiara promised, but I wasn't convinced.

JJ's dad hit him ... "sometimes". How long had the Pogues known? I guess that was why JJ always slept over at John B's. Emotions were running haywire through me; confusion, anger, I was worried too ... but that just confused me even more.

I hated JJ, he was awful to me, and I was awful to him.

But I was starting to see why he'd been such a jerk. No, he was just JJ, he always was a jerk. But I thought back to the police station, when JJ's dad had come to bail him out. I hadn't noticed anything, they'd both seemed like a normal father and son relationship.

How had I not known? How stupid could I have been to not notice something this obvious. I felt ridiculous, and a little angry at myself for letting this slip by me.

My own father never hit me. No one had ever hit me growing up, and suddenly I realized just how lucky I was growing up. I couldn't imagine my Dad hitting me, I couldn't even imagine any parent hitting their child.

And then I thought: Should I tell my father? Should I let the other fellow Sheriff and Deputies put JJ's father away for good?

No. I wouldn't involve my Dad. I hadn't been home for days, I hadn't even answered any of his phone calls. I had skipped out on so many shifts—even before I ran off, so much that my own father had put me on probation.

Besides, JJ could take care of himself.

Right?

↬——✾——↫

Afterwards, Pope and I hung out at his dad's store, while John B and Sarah went for a little romantic getaway. I liked Heyward, he mostly left Pope and I alone so we just chilled behind the register until night came, where we'd have to meet up with John B at his house.

We hopped in his truck, and drove over to John B's, discussing our plans for tomorrow. We'd be getting all the gold out of Ms Crain's well, and then stuffing it all in a safe we'd found online on Ebay.

I slammed the door shut of the truck, and both Pope and I slowly walked into John B's yard, looking around in awe. LED lights were strung up around the trees and bushes, and when we stepped into the clearing, there was a huge jacuzzi in the middle. JJ sat in the hot tub, holding several bottles of champagne and wearing sunglasses. Pope and I could only gap at him, and I kept thinking: What the hell was going on?!

"Sup," JJ uncorked the bottle.

"How much did this cost?!" Pope and I stared.

"Around 25K," JJ reclined back in the jacuzzi, hands behind his head.

"Twenty-five thousand dollars?!" Pope howled.

"You spent all the money?!" I shouted.

"Pretty much," JJ grinned.

"You could've spent it on literally anything else—" Pope said.

"Yeah, what about fucking restution?! Your trial?!" I said in disbelief.

"Well guess what—I didn't!" JJ broke character, and stood up, water splashing down. Bruises were littered all over his bare chest, ugly patterns of where fists had hit him.

I stumbled back, shocked, and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"I bought this—for you! For my family," JJ started to cry, huge, heaving, ugly tears. "I just—" his voice cracked.

I rushed forward, into the pool, ignoring as I got my clothing soaked. I wrapped my arms around him, and he collapsed.

"I can't deal with him anymore—I can't do it," JJ sobbed into my arms.

I just held him tightly, even though I was also crying a bit. Pope joined us, enveloping us in a heart wrenching hug.

Pope and I let JJ inside, and then lay him down on the couch, on his back. Pope went into the kitchen to get him a glass of water, while I sat on a stool beside the couch. I took out the medical kit and started to patch JJ up. We didn't talk, JJ just looked off into the distance while I focused on his bruises.

After a while, I spoke up, breaking the silence. "You went home."

"Yeah."

"Why, JJ?" I looked at him, painfully, and I felt my eyes start to well up. I wanted to say, why would you be so trusting? You knew he was going to be horrible, so why did you have to do that to yourself? You're a beautiful, good, boy. And it was horrible, just horrible.

"I—I don't know," JJ closed his eyes, and I saw tears had started to gather before he quickly shut them, pretending to be asleep.

I tucked a blanket over him. "JJ, promise me something."

"Yeah?" He was wide awake now.

"Promise me you won't ever go back."

When he didn't respond, I said feverishly, "Promise me!"

"I can't," he rolled onto his side, back facing me, and pretended to sleep.

a/n: Looking back on this, the part where Mercedes is thinking all the "JJ ur so awesome such a good boy" part, its a little unrealistic but mehhh. Anyway things are FINALLY progressing! Talk about slow burn.