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╔⭑-⭒-⭑-⭒-⭑-⭒-⭑╗ 𝕮hapter five ╚⭑-⭒-⭑-⭒-⭑-⭒-⭑╝
Evangeline knew she shouldn't have walked off, her feet now kicking the dirt as she wandered in the direction of the Chateau. The sun hit the back of her shoulders, an oncoming sunburn sure to be there later that night, sweat beginning to form at her hair line. But even though it was torture, it helped clear her thoughts. Since the moment she came to North Carolina, since meeting the Pogues, her memories of that night, the constant nightmares plaguing her mind diminished, and she was finally getting used to it. But Scooter Grubbs' body and Lana Grubbs' cries crashed down on her like a wave. It was at that moment that Evangeline knew that however long ago it was, whatever way she distracted herself, it'd always come trailing back into the corners of her mind.
"Need a ride, Sweets!" Hearing the familiar sound of the Twinkie's horn and John B's voice from the driver's seat, Evangeline couldn't help the small smile that pulled at her lips. Jumping into the passenger seat, she let the wind blow through her hair as John B drove the rest of the way. The two sat in a comfortable silence before Evangeline broke it. "What's JJ doing with the money?"
John B had a feeling this would come up. Although Evangeline joined them on their escapades, reveling in the chaos being a Pogue brought, she was also a voice of reason. Slightly. "Kie and Pope think we should go dark. JJ obviously wants to keep the money." There was a 'but' to that sentence, Evangeline could tell. "Let me guess, you don't agree." It wasn't a question, the girl knew the look in John B's eyes, his grasp on the wheel tightening. "Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the porthole." Evangeline huffed softly.
"Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White?" The two shared a look, Evangeline's gears turning in her head. "Just sayin'." The brunette hummed, her eyes finding the familiar house they were approaching. "I see your point, but -" She gave the boy a look, not fully understanding what he was trying to get at.
"All right, so think about it. How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?" Returning to the group, both Pope and Evangeline were dragged out on the docks for a further explanation. Resting her back against the railing, she watched Pope chuck the fishing line into the waters, JJ doing the same. "Prostitution." The teen muttered, John B huffing. "Square groupers, bro. Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane. What does that mean? JJ?"
"They were straight smugglin'." The teen replied, John B raising his brows. "Smuggling. And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck." The four contemplated the idea before JJ's fishing line was yanked harshly. "Fish on!"
