A LITTLE LUXURY // Outer Banks // JJ

Broken Glass and White Powder

"I hope she'll be a fool-

that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool."

-Scott Fitzgerald

----

"No faaiiiir!" I whined.

Yet again, I had to work while the gang went on an adventure without me. John B had successfully stolen the scuba gear from the Cameron's boat, having come back muttering something about "freaking Sarah Cameron", and everyone was getting ready to go dive at the wreck to see what they could find.

I, however, had a shift to get to.

"Don't worry", John B patted me on the back.

"Yeah, I won't let them do anything too stupid", Pope added.

"I always miss the fun stuff", I groaned.

JJ looked at me over his sunglasses, "Don't worry Ti, we'll come back with plenty of contraband to rebuild your fund". He made a goofy face but I saw in his eyes that he was dead serious.

I swiped the sunglasses off of him, putting them on myself sassily. "Well if you do let me know so I can quit my stupid job". 

He snickered, not even trying to get his glasses back from me. "Aye aye, captain". With a mocking salute, he was off.

I smiled, but JJ hesitated and turned back to me. "Seriously, Ti. We'll figure something out, we've got you". He looked down awkwardly.

Tough cocky JJ, standing in front of me sweetly to tell me he'd come back with millions for me. 

I smiled sadly, not knowing if I believed the wreck would hold what he wanted, but wanting to buy into the dream as much as he did. "I know".

----

It was a few hours later and my shift had, as expected, gone by agonizingly slow. 

Last shift had felt like it was taking forever but this one had felt even worse, even though it was technically a shorter shift since I'd been let off early. It was a slow day at the restaurant, especially since everyone had been out looking for the missing body, and I hadn't made much money either.

My friends were, once again, crowded around me and retelling the events of the day, about how they'd found the bag, been confronted by the cops, and been shot at. All to find out that the bag had a compass in it belonging to John B's father.

"Seriously I always miss the fun stuff!"

John B looked at me exasperatedly. "Yeah, well, I'd rather you not get shot at anyways. I'm glad you were at work".

Kie seemed a bit hurt "What about me?". I winced. She'd never admitted it to me, but I had good reason to believe Kiara had a crush on John B.

Pope joined in, "Yeah, what about me do we not care about me?"

"I'd rather none of you get shot at", John B amended his previous statement, looking at all of us. 

"Gotta keep our girls safe", JJ commented, throwing an arm around Pope's shoulders, shaking him jokingly. Pope just gave him a look.

John B just shook his head and continued. "Seriously, guys, I don't want anyone in danger because of me". 

"It's not because of you". I voiced up. "We're all in this together, remember?"

"Pogues!" we cheered, bumping our beers together in celebration of the statement.

----

JJ had, yet again, walked me home after a long night of drinking and plotting at the Chateau. 

Back there JJ and John B had agreed to reconvene the next morning to talk to Ms Lana, and I of course had made it known that I would not be missing out on anything else so I was coming along on the next day's mission as well.

After JJ had gallantly left me at my front door, however, I'd had a bad gut feeling about what awaited me at home.

I approached the porch cautiously, seeing that it was late and the lights were still on. I wasn't looking forward to seeing Barry and had been banking on him already being asleep when I came home.

It was part of the reason I'd stayed so late hanging out at the Chateau. I had done my best to delay as much as possible before leaving John B's, and I think JJ had noticed. No one had said anything though, choosing not to question me and happily agreeing to getting more beers and hanging out longer than planned. 

Just my luck that Barry had chosen tonight to stay up much later than usual. I could only pray he was alone and didn't have any of his thugs over.

Quietly and slowly, I opened the door. It was uncharacteristically dead quiet even though all the lights were on, which only served to make the alarm bells in my head louder.

I took off my shoes and tiptoed inside the house, looking around.

There in my own living room, lay 4 men. One of them was my brother, haphazardly passed out on the couch, head lolling to the side, while the other 3 I'd never seen before.

A huge muscular man wearing a bandana was sprawled out on the other couch, snoring loudly and half falling over onto the other man next to him, who sported a teardrop under his eye that I couldn't help but notice. Both of them had shiny black revolvers clutched in their hands, even as they slept.

The glass coffee table in front of the ratty old couches was in dire shape; it was completely shattered in the middle, as if it had been punched and had caved completely. Among the mess that I could decipher on the part of the table that was still standing was a large bag of white powder, with smears of what I could only assume was blood from the fist that had hit the table. 

And then there was the last man, who lay flat on his back on the ground, pale and completely unmoving. 

Terrified, I didn't stay to check whether the man was breathing, rather choosing to scurry to my room as quickly as I could. My heart was jumping out of my chest and the 10 seconds it took me to make it safely inside my room felt like the longest 10 seconds of my life.

Once I had locked both the locks on my door and closed the window over my bed I finally felt safe. I fell onto my bed, distraught. 

I don't know how much longer I can do this, I thought.