Audacious//JJ Maybank (Outerbanks)

Chapter 77

                           {Booby-trap}

The air inside the abandoned hotel was thick with dust, every breath I took tinged with the scent of decay. My fingers absentmindedly brushed over the curve of my belly, the weight of the baby both grounding and terrifying. But I couldn't afford to think about that right now. Not with what was coming.

The old place was falling apart around us, the walls peeling, the windows half shattered, the faint smell of mold clinging to everything. But it was all we had. A temporary refuge from whatever hell waited for us outside.

I stood by the window, staring into the day, my heart racing a little faster than usual. Every shadow outside looked like a threat, every creak of the floorboards echoing through the halls like a warning. But I stayed silent, watching my brother and the others move swiftly around me, knowing I couldn't just sit down and rest, no matter how much my body begged me to.

John B was ripping apart an old chair, the legs splintering as he tossed them to the side, trying to improvise weapons. His hands were moving fast, but his eyes kept glancing at me like he could read my thoughts. Like he knew I was scared but trying to hide it. We were twins, after all. Sometimes, it felt like he could see straight through me, no matter how hard I tried to stay strong. I tightened my grip on the window frame, refusing to let myself fall apart.

JJ was beside him, running a hand through his hair, looking between John B and me like he was barely keeping it together himself. He wasn't saying anything, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. I knew what he was thinking. I could see it every time he looked at me—at us. He was scared too. Scared for me, for the baby. And even though we didn't talk about it much, it was always there between us, unspoken but real.

I watched him as he strapped his knife tighter to his belt, his jaw set in that determined way that made my heart twist. He was ready to fight for us, for all of us. But it was different now. It wasn't just us running for our lives—it was me, carrying this new life, and that terrified him.

But there was no time to talk about it. There was barely time to think. We had to be ready.
"Jackie," Cleo called from the other side of the room, crouched beside Pope, who was carefully rigging one of the traps they'd been working on. "Can you grab those nails?"

"Yeah, got it," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. I moved quickly, though every step felt heavier these days. My body wasn't mine anymore—it was slower, more careful. I grabbed the rusty nails from the corner and handed them to Cleo, who gave me a tight-lipped smile. She didn't say anything, but her eyes softened a little when she looked at my stomach. I knew she worried, just like the rest of them. But she didn't say it out loud, and I was grateful for that.

John B's voice broke through the quiet. "This has to work. If they find us here, we're not going down without a fight." His hands were steady as he tied together one of the traps with a piece of old rope, his brow furrowed in concentration.

JJ came up behind me, his presence warm, solid. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded. "Yeah. Just... tired." His hand brushed against mine, a small, fleeting touch that felt like both an apology and a promise.

I knew he wanted to say more, to ask about the baby, about how I was feeling, but now wasn't the time. It never seemed like the right time anymore. There were too many other things pressing down on us, too many dangers lurking around every corner.

"You should sit down," he said softly, though he knew I wouldn't. I never did. I gave him a small smile. "I'm fine." He didn't push, just stayed there, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him, reminding me I wasn't alone. That even in this mess of a life we were living, we had each other.