(S3) the one where john b's twin joins the treasure hunt and falls for her best friend
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PART 2 OF THE BRIZO SERIES.
THIS STORY CONTAINES MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT, AS WELL AS SPOILERS FROM THE TV SHOW. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
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OUTER BANKS
JJ x OC...
CHAPTER TWELVE trying to be a family again, spoiler alert: it doesn't work
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"To life, living and the pursuit of... treasure." Our dad toasts.
"That's a good one." JB agrees, before us three swallow our shots.
John wrapped my ankle with whatever rags he could find, tried to help me keep it immobilized so it doesn't hurt as much. We're sitting on the same bench, squeezed together, with our father in front of us.
JB grimaces, as the alcohol goes down his throat and it makes my dad laugh. "Yeah, see, that'll put hair on your chest there."
"That's disgusting." I scrunch up my nose and swallow my shot.
I leave the glass on the table and rest my head in my hand, glancing between my father and JB, waiting for an explanation of what went down this afternoon.
"So," John B finally speaks, catching my looks. "What's the deal with this whole kahuna thing?" He plays with the stone in his hands, looking up at our father.
"Yeah," I join, "How did you end up in Barbados?"
"Well, same way you did and for the same reason too." He looks between me and John. "The treasure."
"Obviously." I nod.
"And Carlos Singh."
We hear a story. Our fathers explains to us how he survived on a deserted island, and how he supposed Singh tracked his boat. They found him, and when he thought he was finally being rescued, it turns out they just wanted to keep him captive.
He hesitates when he speaks of fighting, and leaving one of the men behind. I guess he killed him. That makes me a little uncomfortable. But, who am I to judge? Since the last time I saw him I've committed so many felonies I've lost count of them.
He talks about being imprisoned in the same place Kiara was, Singh's fortress. The one we tried to break into. He had wanted to cut a deal with our dad. He wanted to know everything my dad knew about the Orinoco, El Dorado, the treasure. Luckily, he got away before saying too much. And not empty handed.
With a lit cigarette between his fingers, he admires the statue, looking at us above his glasses with a smile.
"And here I am," He smiles fondly, "back with my kids."
I can't help the smile that plasters in my face. John B does too, once I nudge him softly with my elbow. I'm not happy either about what he's put us through, but I'm not willing to spend a several hours trip on this boat in uncomfortable silence with them.
"But enough about me. I want to hear about you."
"Oh, no need, Dad. We're the same we were." I shrug.
