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𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨...
♪ 𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 - 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙧𝙖𝙮 ♪
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PANIC HAD MADE ITS HOME in Blue's mind. It ate at her nerves, nibbling away at her sense of peace, making it nearly impossible to think straight. The only clear image in her mind was that of Scooter Grubbs' body and his wife sobbing over it. She wondered what had happened to him. If he had just simply drowned in the storm, they wouldn't be searching his motel room and taking everything in as evidence. Scooter was caught up in something treacherous and he didn't make it out alive. As Blue went over every little detail she had gathered in her mind, she couldn't help but come up with more questions instead of answers.
Why was he staying in a motel room in the first place?
Why was he out during a hurricane? Where was he trying to go?
How did he get all that money? The gun? The Grady-White?
Did someone hurt him?
The last question made the young girl shiver despite sitting in the blazing North Carolina sun. If someone had hurt Scooter Grubbs, what's to say they wouldn't come after her friends next? They had stolen from the investigation, after all, so someone could come looking for the contraband items. Someone dangerous and capable of harming them in vicious, unthinkable ways.
Blue began to feel a little nauseous at the thought. She nearly scoffed when she remembered that the only reason they had even gone to the motel was to get a finder's fee, but now they were all debating on what to do next in order to keep them alive and out of jail.
The Pogues were currently residing on the Chateau's porch, the air thick with tension and nerves. Kiara was sitting on the withering couch, JJ lounged casually in the broken recliner they meant to throw out months ago while flicking his zippo lighter through his fingers, and John B and Blue were leaning against the railing to the left of the screen door. Pope had been pacing back and forth in the trashed backyard until he burst into the scene while panting loudly.
