❝ You know, I have the feeling I'm gonna marry you someday, Oak.❞
- What would you do if you found out murder ran through your own blood?
And that, that blood was going to be the reason for the island's biggest case in the history of its existenc...
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WHEN KIE AND POPE SPOT JJ AND OAKLEY walking towards the truck, their eyes widen as soon as they set in the girl's limp and slightly hunched back. The day had grown tired and the night arrived, but even through the darkness of the streets, the stain of dry blood on Oakley's shirt is prominent and highly noticeable and the other two Pogues don't fail to notice it.
"Holy shit, Oak, what happened?" Pope asks, eyes wide as he jumps out of the car next to Kie.
"That's a story for another time. We need to get to John B,"
The girl pushes herself away from JJ with a quiet groan and opens the car's door before it's slammed back shut by a stern Kiara.
"Tell me why you have blood all over your sweatshirt right now, Oakley Moon,"
Oakley sighs and leans against the car tiredly, her hands covering the wound so that her eyes won't see the disgusting crimson liquid that stains her once clean sweatshirt.
"Long story short, I got stabbed,"
Pope and Kie's eyes widen and JJ looks down guiltily, making Oakley grab his hand.
"What?!" Pope exclaims loudly and Kie quickly raises the hoodie.
A large white gauze covers the wound with a pool of blood going through the white cloth. Kiara breathes out and rubs her eyes and Oakley quickly pulls the sweatshirt back down.
"I can't- I'd rather not see nor hear how that. . . thing looks, because I might pass out again and it's really not the time,"
Pope grabs his head, "Who did this?"
Oakley squeezes JJ's hand and the boy steps closer to her, rubbing her knuckles lovingly and placing a quick kiss on her head.
Oakley looks down, "Doesn't matter,"
When Oakley had learned that the Pogues would come pick them up at Ricky's, she'd begged and implored JJ not to ever tell them that it'd been her father. JJ was hesitant at first, utterly confused as to why she wouldn't want to put that murdered behind bars and get him off her chest. He was bewildered, to say the least, and insisted they take action. But she was in complete denial, rejecting his help and stubbornly refusing to let anyone know what he'd done.
She'd said it was because she didn't want Jackson to have that kind of childhood. She didn't want him to be thrown into the harsh truth that was her unrealistically perfect rich family, because he was too young and didn't deserve it at all. It was mostly true. Mostly. Arthur had also made it quite clear that if she were to open her mouth, he wouldn't think twice before making her existence a living hell. And one thing the girl had learned living with the man for fifteen years was that he was no childsplay, and if he swore something, he'd never fail in attaining it.
