LETTERS SHE WROTE.
❝I hope that someday when I am gone,
someone, somewhere, picks my soul up
off of these pages and thinks:
I would have loved her. ❞
OUTER BANKS.
BOOK ONE of the LETTERS TRILOGY.
[ SEASONS 1 - 2 ]
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I do not own any rights to Ou...
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[ xxi. it's never enough ]
➸➸➸
"HEY, DON'T WORRY, WILLA. You two have got this."
"Do I look worried, John B.?"
"I meant—"
"Because I'm not. But even if I were worried, it wouldn't be for me. At least I'm not the one breaking into a salvage yard."
"You still can, if you want, but I would rather you didn't risk it."
"You don't think I can handle myself?"
"No, I know you can. You don't have to prove that to me after all the shit we've been through."
"At least one of you doesn't doubt me. Be careful in there."
"And you be careful out there."
Willa Deveraux chewed uneasily on the inside of her ragged and raw cheek, a solemn expression ridden upon her placid face, as she reeled upon the final exchange shared between herself and John B. Routledge from only twenty minutes prior in the afternoon. It had been so short, so miniscule of a parting goodbye, but his words still weighed heavily in her mind long after he had gone. John B. had sounded so hopeful of Willa and her determination, and she was certainly not about to let him down now.
From her place in the passenger's seat of Kiara Carrera's vehicle, Willa's legs were pulled up to her chest and her bare arms were looped loosely around her knees, her attention out towards the dry landscape that was the south side of the island. Less than a hundred yards away was the salvage yard itself, sitting idly on a dead-end street. Willa and Kiara were currently watching the compound silently from a safe distance, appearing to be alone in their company, but they were truly far from it. Somewhere beyond their fields of vision—hidden amongst trashed and rusted parts of machinery—were three boys waiting for the proper moment to pounce.
All the teenagers' given positions, inside and outside of the lot, were about to be very pivotal in the ways of success in the minutes to come.
"Tire's officially flat," Kiara's voice sounded near Willa's head, through the open passenger's window. The latter turned to her right, seeing Kiara slip a shiny pin into her back pocket from where she stood just beyond the door. "You ready to do this?"
Willa nodded tensely. "Ready as I'll ever be," She replied. Letting her knees fall away from her chest and her feet slap flat on the safeguard mat below, Willa quickly pulled down the visor, taking one last moment to examine herself in the mirror. A pair of tired and bleak, green eyes looked back at her, the attention automatically falling to the blackening scab on her chin. Willa's lower lip curled beneath her teeth at the painful sight and a huff of irritation slipped from her lungs.
"That's not as bad as you think it is," Kiara consoled, following Willa's eyes to the tiny and dusty square mirror in the visor.
