𝘀𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹 𝘁𝗼 '𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿' book 2 of 3
on the outside, looking in, bianca prescott was back to who everyone knew her as- kook princess, island royalty, who couldn't give less of a fuck about the pogues like they were poo on her jimmy choo's.
b...
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The atmosphere had turned somber between the Pogues as they anxiously awaited Sarah Cameron's return. The tense air paralleled the leaden sky, gloomy rainclouds hanging heavy over their heads. A humid breeze coursed by, rustling the sandy grains of the inlet as the group paced restlessly on the shore.
Bianca stood beside John B, who had been staring off into the distance ever since the blonde left to convince her father to tell the truth. His eyes never faltered from the horizon, adam's apple bobbing nervously.
"The tape, you heard it?" John B questioned the dark-haired girl beside him, neither wanting to take part in the light-hearted conversation the other Pogues were having behind them.
"Just a few seconds," Bianca let out a shaky breath, arms folded across her chest as she gazed out into the body of water. She knew she'd been harsh with Sarah but she still worried for her. In all honestly, Bianca was half expecting her best friend to return heartbroken like when she realized her own father had chosen to protect Rafe over her, "But it's definitely Gavin. I think Ward and my dad might have betrayed Limbrey like they did to Big John."
John B's gaze snapped down to hers, absorbing the words. If what she was saying was true, then Limbrey may have been a potential ally, which they clearly didn't have a lot of at the moment. Though Bianca was struggling to decipher what the woman truly wanted, she was in the dark just as much as John B in that aspect.
"I'm sorry John B. All of this is happening to you because of our dads," Bianca glanced up at him sincerely, the breeze sweeping gently at her hair. "I wish things could've been different."
"So did I, but I stopped wishing weeks ago," The boy hummed thoughtfully. "I'm tired of running. This island, the Chateau, those guys," He chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder at his friends who were drawing pictures in the sand with long sticks. "This is my home," He turned back to her. "And it's your's now too, B."
Bianca frowned slightly and wondered where John B was going with this. She didn't have to wait long, however, because upon noticing the confusion crossing her face, the boy smiled kindly.
"JJ told me you're still living with your parents," The brunet explained, shrugging his shoulders casually. "You know, you're always welcome at the Chateau, right? Whenever you want to crash."
Bianca felt her heart wrench beneath her ribs, swallowing thickly, and gave the boy beside her a grateful nod, "Thanks JB."
When Bianca was little, home meant the house she drew in crayon in white printer paper, the one that was supposed to look like the place she lived in. Home meant where she came back after school every day to eat her snack and do her homework.
