Paradise Falls ||JJ Maybank||

[17] Six on One

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The next morning, I found myself tagging along with Pope and JJ to deliver groceries for Hayward. While the rest of the Pogues had ventured off to test whatever they'd acquired from the salvage yard, I opted to head over to the cemetery to arrange a burial for my parents.

Nobody ever told me that being dead was expensive. For two plots at the cemetery and two caskets, the Camerons, or rather, I, paid a staggering four thousand dollars.

The thought of returning the money crossed my mind; I didn't want their pity. But deep down, I knew I needed it. When we got the gold, I promised myself I'd use some of my share to pay them back.

"Get these groceries over to Figure Eight," Hayward instructed us sternly. "Newton, make sure they get straight back here when you're all done. No fishing. I promised delivery by this afternoon."

We loaded up the boat with the bags of groceries, listening attentively to Hayward's rules.

"Rich folks don't want to wait for you lazy sons of... Oh, JJ, thank you," Hayward remarked, a hint of gruffness in his voice.

I waved goodbye to Hayward, promising to keep the others out of trouble.

"I'll keep them out of trouble," I assured him with a laugh.

Hayward chuckled. "I want to believe it, Newton, but you're friends with them," he said, pointing at Pope and JJ as we began to drive away. "They're both idiots."

"Oh, come on, you love me," JJ called out playfully, forming his hands into the shape of a heart.

There was no response from Hayward, just the sight of him turning around and walking away.

Uncharacteristically quiet, I sat in the boat with Pope and JJ as we made our way to Figure Eight. Everything felt so real to me right now, and I didn't like it. Plus, I hadn't told anyone that I was arranging the burial for my parents; everyone had too much going on.

I planned for it to be just me there, so I could cry all I wanted without judgment or pity.

"Doesn't even look like the storm hit there," Pope remarked, pointing towards Figure Eight.

"That's because they've got generators, bro," JJ replied, twirling something between his fingers. "Get used to it. And then they say the juice will be out all summer at the Cut."

"It's nice to be a kook."

"Lucky bastards."

"More like spoiled brats," I corrected them. "I think if you stuck a Cameron in the Cut for a day, they'd drop dead within the first ten minutes."

When we docked the boat, the three of us exchanged glances, silently acknowledging that someone had to go it alone.

"Who's got the most shit to deliver?" I asked, taking charge.

Pope raised his hand without hesitation.

I nodded, grabbing bags from the pile intended for Pope's deliveries. "JJ," I said, catching his attention, "do me a favor and don't steal anything."

JJ smirked and winked at me. "I can't promise anything, princess."

I let out a playful scoff, stepping out of the boat and following Pope down the dock toward the country club where the deliveries were supposed to go.

The day was beautiful, the sun shining bright with a cool breeze. As we walked, I couldn't help but feel the warmth of the ground beneath my sneakers. My choice of clothing—a bikini top and a pair of denim shorts—was perfect for the weather.