eight

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CHAPTER EIGHT
[8]
song: black out days - future islands remix by phantogram

John B was in jail. Charged with murder in the first degree with aggravated circumstances, and if convicted, the maximum sentence was the death penalty.

It was a rainy morning spent at the courthouse, seeing your friend hauled out in front of the town in handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit, a purple bruise under his eye.

The day before, Cassie spent an hour at the sheriff's station in Shoupe's office. Begging him to play back security footage from the street ahead of time.

They watched it together, they watched Rafe flood the sewers, they watched him pull her into an alley, and they watched him hand her hush money. And still it was not enough evidence to convict Rafe.

"Are they paying you?" Cassie had asked Shoupe, desperate tears in her eyes. "I don't understand."

It was over. There was nothing anyone could do, it was fully out of their hands. They sat in the porch of The Chateau, as rain poured outside, all silence, all stillness.

They were beginning to spend more time at John B's house than John B.

"I don't know how much time I have." Cassie says, stepping back onto the porch, and handing Sarah a cup of warm tea, as she sat curled up on the sofa, cheeks tear-stained.

"Don't say it like that." JJ rubs his eyes.

Cassie shrugs slightly. "I just— I'll try and talk to my grandma. They can't take me back unless she signs off on it."

"She'll do anything to get you away from me." JJ mutters, annoyedly. "Bad influence." He mocks her from earlier, when JJ had an outburst at the court hearing, and Cassie's grandma quickly shuffled her away. "Just like his father."

"Hey." Cassie said sternly, making him stop.

"How do we know he's even called them? I'm sure he's pretty distracted with everything." Pope says, leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed.

Cassie shrugs. "We don't."

She'd waited all day, in her bedroom at her grandma's house, her bag packed beforehand this time. She clung to her pillow, and cried, fell asleep for an hour or so, and when she awoke, she was surprised she was even still here.

Her nose was red, her eyes were puffy, she sat up in her bed and watched the rain out her bedroom window, watched as the boats on the harbor bobbed in the water as it poured.

"Cassie?" Her grandma's weak voice yelled from downstairs.

Cassie jumped, then she froze, waiting for the sounds of footsteps to start clamoring up the stairs. Then for her bedroom door to burst open.

"Cassie?" Her grandma repeated again.

Cassie sniffled, wiped a tear, then responded. "Yeah?" She yelled back.

"Someone at the door for you."

Hesitating first, Cassie quickly slipped on a sweatshirt over her tank top before she pulled herself out of bed, wiping the rest of her tears off with her sleeves.

This is Me Trying ⭑ Rafe CameronWhere stories live. Discover now