Deep Water [OuterBanks]

22: exile

The days light was fleeting, and nearly every trace of the blue canvas sky hanging over the Outer Banks had been lost to the darkness. The air-conditioning in Kiara's Nissan worked overtime as the brunette pulled into the lot of the police station. Alana sat idly in the passenger seat, her head resting against the door. John B's words were still on her mind hours later, playing sporadically on the record player within her headspace: Rafe Cameron had intentionally shot the sheriff. The Kessler girl knew she shouldn't have been so shocked. She knew Rafe was violent, and uncanny, and after all, his father had murdered John Routledge. But something about the fact that she'd had conversations with the nineteen year-old, left her feeling mildly unsettled.

"John B, what are we doing at the police station?" JJ asked from the back seat as Kiara shut off the ignition.

"Somebody's gotta tell them what happened." John B muttered lowly, still partially shaken up. Alana kept her head on the door, even as Kiara turned around in her chair to join the conversation. She knew John B was just trying to do the right thing. He always was; but the Pogue's were invariably first to blame; and things could easily go sideways if Ward had already given a statement.

What prompted the girl to finally turn around was Pope Heyward, slipping inevitably into a coughing fit. "Take it slow, Pope." She reminded him, her cerulean eyes flickering to the joint between his thumb and index finger, and then to John B, her heart filling with sympathy at the look of misery etched onto his freckled face.

"All right. I'm just gonna be real with you right now." JJ leaned over, placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "You might end up in the lion's den, but you don't go there on purpose. It's fundamental. Just like my old man always told me, you should never ever trust cops, no matter what the circumstance is." He shook his head.

"Your old man's an abusive liar." Kiara emphasized, catching the boy's blue eyed gaze.

"Amen to that." Alana agreed, repositioning herself and pulling one of her knees up to her chest.

"I agree with JJ." Pope voiced with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. "Fuck the police."

"You going to the dark side now?" Kiara scoffed, prompting the Heyward boy to sit up from his relaxed position in the backseat.

"When's the last time the police helped us?" He challenged, tilting his head to the side.

"Peterkin looked out for me, all right? Or tried to, at least." John B proclaimed, looking between Pope and JJ. "They need to know." He told the four, and after earning a quick nod of approval from Kiara, he pushed open the back door, taking faltered steps towards the station.

Silence engulfed the vehicle, and Alana habitually went to pick at the polish on her fingernails, only to remember that they weren't painted. Not even three minutes had gone by, before John B was barging out of the police station, running at full speed towards Kiara's SUV. "Kie, start the car!" He shouted, nearly ripping the side door off its hinges as he threw himself into the back seat. "Start the car, Kie!"