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loveharlow · 1 month ago

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PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[12k] After four longs weeks stranded, a miracle comes to you and your friends in the form of a flying fish. But some things are just too good to be true...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions/graphic depictions of injuries/blood, mentions/graphic depictions of death/violence, kidnapping, Carlos Singh saying "ya know" every other syllable

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

NOW PLAYING‧₊

FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, IT WAS ALWAYS KOOKS AND POGUES. Some people with everything, some…with nothing. That’s the way it's always been. That’s how they wanna keep it.

Some people make the best of it. And some people fight against it. Imagine gold was a part of that. For you and your friends, the treasure was your way out — how you evened the scales. How the pogues win. But at some point, you kind of have to wonder…was the treasure an escape? Or was it a trap?

This was your fourth week on Poguelandia and the sun wasn’t shining as bright as it was when the group of you first arrived. Literally and metaphorically.

The storm that hit last week left you and your group of friends with practically nothing — it killed the shelters you’d built, swept away most of the food inventory and God knows what else. You were back at square one, but there were no dice to roll this time. And even though it wasn’t really even your ideal solution, the group figured it was time to talk about-

“Rescue?” JJ scoffed, eyeing your figure besides him as the two of you constructed spears — replacing the ones that had been swept by the tide. “From what? From…from Paradise?” He said unbelievably, looking at the island around him with a lopsided smile on his face. “I’m not going back. Ever.” He shrugged. “I mean, look around. We got everything we need.”

“Right…” You chuckled, wrapping the twine around the materials in your hands. “Except for food, shelter…a shower.” You proclaimed, a grimace on your dry lips, a product of the lack of fresh water.

“Isn’t this what we wanted?” JJ asked you, blue eyes looking into yours as he sighed. “I mean, this is exactly what we talked about. Surf Trip, remember?”

“Exactly, JJ. Surf Trip. Not a deserted island with nothing for miles.” You tried to reason, your eyebrows raising as you spoke, a mild expression of worry on your face. “Our current food inventory stands at five sardines, four baby crabs, and three and a half coconuts.” You reminded the blonde, wrapping the last of the twine around your spear. “As much as I don’t want to go back to our old lives, we can’t survive out here much longer…”

“Which is precisely why we’re making these handy-dandy spears, lil lady.” He deflected, standing from his spot and outstretching a hand to you, his weapon clutched in the other. “Ready to go provide for the family?”

You simply sighed and nodded, taking the boy's offer for help in standing even though you didn’t need it much at this point — you found yourself actually able to put weight on your leg, something that put a smile on your face.

“Let’s go kill somethin’!” The blonde cheered, leading you hand in hand towards the water.

“Don’t say it like that.” You chuckled. “It sounds so barbaric…”

“That’s the circle of life, baby.” JJ smiled over his shoulder as you two got closer to the shore. “Unless you wanna eat coconuts forever.”

You almost audibly groaned at the thought. “After the past month, I think I’m good on coconuts.”

Your toes were met with the refreshing cool of salt water as you and JJ entered the shallow end of the ocean waves, just enough to catch some small fish. Your hands unlinked as you peered down at the small creatures you could see, holding your spears in the correct fashion.

“You ready?” JJ asked, eyes focused on the fish swimming as he licked them in concentration, holding the spear like a primitive survivalist. “Remember, watch your shadow — they see that? They’re gone.”

“You are aware I took a college course in marine biology, right?” You side-eyed your blonde boyfriend playfully. “Technically, I’m the expert here.”

“Oh, my bad.” He feigned mock surrender. ‘Let’s see whatcha got then, princess.”

The two of you exchanged smiles before averting your attention to the water beneath your feet, spears in hand as you waited for an opportunity to strike something good.

“Hey,” JJ spoke up. “Hey, baby. Baby, it’s a skate.” JJ pointed out, tip of his spear trailing the aquatic animal. “It’s a skate right there, you see him? He’s comin’ over by you.” The blonde urged, allowing you to take the kill.

“Where?” You asked, trying to find out where he was looking as you looked from side to side.

“Right there!” He pressed.

“Right where?!”

“Right-” He gave up on trying to help you find the animal, raising his spear before plunging it down. “Dammit, I missed it...” He cursed himself, trying to find where the fish had swam off to. Suddenly, something brushed the top of your foot, causing you to look down — catching the sight of a decent sized stingray swimming beneath you.

Without a second thought, you plunged the sharp end of your spear into the middle of the swimming creature, raising it up for your boyfriend to see.

“You did it!” He celebrated, throwing his hands out as you held the stingray at a distance. ‘We’re havin’ skate tonight!”

“Oh, shit...” You laughed breathlessly, eyeing your dinner as you held it out away from you.

“C’mon baby, let’s fire this thing up.” JJ urged, walking in the direction of your designated spot on the island. “Good job, mama.” He winked, playfully tapping your ass as he walked by.

“JJ!" You whined. "You’re gonna make me drop it!”

“OKAY, JOHN B, YOUR TURN. TRUTH OR DARE?” Sarah asked her boyfriend as she sat beside him, tearing a piece of charred stingray between her fingers. It had to be mid-day, some time in the afternoon — JJ cooked the stingray you’d caught, effectively feeding your starving group of friends.

“...Truth.” The boy shrugged, tossing a piece of the meat into his mouth.

“Truth?” Sarah reiterated, to which John B nodded. The blonde girl looked to the sky, seemingly trying to gather a thought with a bright smile on her face before looking at JB once more. “If you could do it all again…what would you do differently?”

“Uh...get the gold out before Ward did.” JJ answered with a grimace, despite the question not being aimed at him.

“Maybe hide the cross a little better.” Pope added from his place next to Cleo.

“...Not yell ‘murderer’ at Ward, maybe.” Kie added, cringing at the memory.

“Keep Marley safer.” You threw out from your place under JJ’s arm. “Or not go to Barry’s alone.” You joked wiping grease from the corner of your mouth with the butt of your palm.

“Who is this Marley ya keep talkin’ about?” Cleo asked, tying her hair up and out of her face. “Is it someone’s little sister?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought, tearing off more meat from your stick. “No, it’s my dog. I have a Golden Retriever.”

“...That’s what you been yappin’ about ever since we got here, girl?” Cleo asked, a playful smile on her face. “A dog? Where I'm from, we don't bring the strays home. Nuh-uh.”

“Tread lightly, Cleo.” Pope whispered in her direction, throwing a mischievous smile your way. “She gets a little iffy about her ani-”

“Watch the ‘a’ word, Pope.” You warned the boy, throwing a small pebble his way as he ducked out of its path. “Marley is my baby and she will be addressed as such.”

“Of course. My bad...” Pope fake apologized to which you jokingly flipped him off.

“Anyway, answering the question that was directed at me,” John B broke through the conversation, eyeing the four of you who responded in his place. “I would…steal a couple bottles of rum off the boat we jumped off, maybe?”

“Yeah, why didn’t you do that actually?” JJ asked his friend.

“I don’t know,” John B started, squinting his eyes at the blonde boy. “Maybe ‘cause I was in a fight to the death?”

“I would look both ways before crossing the street.” Cleo interjected with her own answer, eyeing John B. You didn’t know exactly what she meant but clearly John B and Sarah did, the blonde girl laughing hysterically as John B grimaced.

“Yeah, my bad.” He cringed. “My bad...”

“Your turn, chief.” Cleo looked up at John B, prompting him to ask a question.

“All right, Kie,” He turned to the tanned girl next to him. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” She said without a moment’s thought.

“Alright, um…” JB stuttered for a question. “If you could go home to your parent’s house on Figure Eight this instant, would you do it?”

Kiara drew her lips into a thin line, the question posing a hard answer. “...Not a chance.” She smiled, looking around at her friends and the beach.

“Seconded.” Sarah threw out, holding up her coconut that she’d been drinking from.

“Hear, hear!” JJ added, holding up his own coconut and holding up your hand in his free one.

“The shower’s tempting, though.” The girl added, shrugging with a longing frown.

“Ooh, I could use a fat shower right now.” Pope said, a look of longing on his face.

“Y/N.” Kiara called, you picking your head up and looking in her direction. “Truth or dare?”

“I mean,” you threw your hands out. “Do you really need to ask?” You almost always chose the same answer — dare, of course.

Kiara brought her shoulders up, a questioning smile on her face. “Big Jump?” She suggested, everyone looking at the cliff behind you all. “Nobody’s done it yet.” She teased.

“Uh-uh.” Cleo shook her head and wagged her finger. “Not with that leg.”

You audibly groaned. “Can't I do one fun thing?” You pleaded, giving the girl your best puppy-dog eyes. “And look!” You perked up, practically jumping up from your spot and standing straight on both legs, despite the mild soreness in the injured one as you did so. “I am perfectly fine.” You smiled, hopping back and forth from foot to foot, your friends giggling at the movement. “It’s like it never even happened.”

Cleo just shook her head like a disappointed mother before averting her attention to JJ, jutting her chin in his direction.”What do you say, Rude Boy?” She asked, raising a brow in his direction.

“Wow, looking to my boyfriend for answers, now?” You complained, the girl shooting you a quick look before looking back at JJ.

JJ seemed to ponder on the thought before standing up next to you. “I say let her go.” He claimed, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “If we’re gonna be stuck here, might as well let my girl do one fun thing.” He smiled, Cleo rolling her eyes playfully as John B gagged, you and JJ shooting him a look of warning. “But, I have one condition.” JJ added before swiftly sweeping you off your feet and into his arms, holding you bridal style as you gasped. Your arms quickly went around his neck as he held you. “I’m comin’ with you.”

YOU AND JJ WERE PLANTED AT THE TOP OF THE CLIFF, peering down at your friends who peered up at the two of you.

“You won’t!” Cleo and Pope yelled from their place in the sand, and even with the distance, you could see the smug expressions on their faces.

“Oh, we won’t?!” JJ challenged, edging closer to the edge of the cliff.

“Do it!” Sarah yelled, the others cheering. Their whooping and hollering continued as JJ turned to you to speak.

“Ready?” He asked, hyping himself up.

You nodded, quickly looking down at the raging water beneath you. “Full Pogue.” You said, looking back at JJ, a bright smile blooming on his sunkissed features that made your cheeks go warm.

“Full Pogue, baby!” He cheered. “Whoo, let’s go!” Was the last thing he said before the two of you, almost in sync, ran and jumped off the cliff — a rush of adrenaline not even allowing you to scream as you let yourself fall through the air and into the water, the waves engulfing you in an endless of cool blue. For a second, you thought you were in heaven, until your head broke through the surface.

“Hell yeah!” Your friends cheered from the shore, running towards the water to meet you and JJ where the both of you started to swim back to the shore.

“You’re two brave idiots...” Cleo smiled as the five of them pulled the two of you into a tight group hug, quick and fleeting before everyone continued back towards camp.

“I actually thought I was gonna die.” JJ said breathlessly as you walked, shaking the water from his hair.

“You looked like you were gonna die.” Pope responded “I thought you were gonna die.”

You giggled behind the two boys. “Can’t kill a pogue.” You shrugged, wiping the ocean water from your face before wringing it out of your hair.

Pope and JJ exchanged a look before high fiving one another. “Can’t kill a pogue!”

“WHAT IF…TONIGHT IS OUR LAST NIGHT HERE?” You asked, facing JJ. You traced the outline of his face as the bonfire illuminated parts of it. The sun had retired for the night, relinquishing the sky to the moon and stars. It's warmth replaced with a humid chill, carrying small droplets of water from the ocean. After facing a day of attempting to rebuild, cliff jumping, and stomachs full of stingray and coconuts — everyone was out cold. Sarah and John B were cuddled together across from you and JJ, Kie huddled under a coconut tree, and Cleo and Pope were sleeping back to back, closer than the night before. It was like they got closer each time.

JJ’s eyebrows furrowed, the blonde already fighting sleep, not wanting to fall asleep before you. “What d'you mean?”

“Like...what if, by some miracle, we get rescued tomorrow?” You rephrased your initial question.

“...That would be a miracle to you?” JJ asked, almost judgmentally.

“I’m not saying it would be...” You shook your head, fingers threading through his hair as you both laid facing each other in the sand, legs intertwined. “But I guess I’m not saying it wouldn’t be.”

JJ shuffled closer to you, eyes tracing your face. “...Why d'you want to leave so bad?” He asked, voice low and solemn. “I thought this was our dream.” He said sadly.

You sighed, turning on your back to look up at the stars, trying to find constellations as you spoke. “It is, JJ.” You reiterated. “But it also… isn’t.” You shook your head, biting your cheek as you clasped your hands over your stomach while JJ tucked your hair behind your ear, the action causing you to glance at him briefly before looking at the stars once again. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. We were supposed to find the gold and everything was supposed to be okay. And then we could go on our surf trip without looking over our shoulder or worrying about what we’re gonna eat tomorrow.” You explained. “And there’s so much shit back home that isn’t really over — Marley’s still there, my mom’s going to trial…” You continued. “So, it’s not that I want to leave.” You started, turning your head to look at JJ whose eyes hadn’t left your face. “I just know we can’t stay.”

“GUYS, WAKE THE HELL UP!” Cleo’s voice rang throughout the island, waking you and JJ from your slumber, opening your eyes to the rising sun. You and JJ exchanged exhausted, confused glances before the sound of mechanical whirring in the sky diverted your attention to the clouds — the two of you watching in awe as a plane flew over the ocean. The first one you’d seen in a month.

“Oh, shit…” You both muttered under your breath, JJ immediately going to wake up John B, who had a similar reaction before waking up Sarah, who looked around groggily before registering the small plane in the sky, staring at it with an indecipherable look on her face.

You took the opportunity to get up from where you’d slept in the sand, shaking Kiara awake before joining JJ at the shoreline as you watched the aircraft fly over the waters — Pope and Cleo running down the beach to try and flag it down. You just stood in shock.

What were the odds?

You watched as John B, teary eyed and relieved, waved his hands violently. “Hey!” He called. “Hey, we’re over here! Over here! We’re right here!”

Your eyes didn’t miss the way JJ turned away from the water, a deep thought behind his eyes before they drifted to meet yours. Neither of you said anything. You’d never say anything to him about it, but you knew deep down that JJ didn’t want to leave. Where you had Marley and Pope had his family and John B had The Chateau and Kie had her family and Sarah had Wheezie — JJ had nothing left to go back to.

His worst nightmare was coming true — going back to Kildare. John B was yelling for help and Pope and Cleo had gone to light the emergency fire you all had set up for this exact situation. It was over.

Your peripheral caught the sight of a bright, orange glow on the cliff top. Cleo and Pope got the fire light and they were calling for help from their place at the top while John B, Sarah, and Kie waved for help. But your eyes never left JJ. You didn’t want to go home anymore than he did. But you were the realist in this situation. Poguelandia had kept you all alive as long as it could, but it was time to go.

Your eyes left JJ and found the plane once more, watching it disappear into the clouds before re-emerging, flying in your direction.

“He sees us.” Kie said breathlessly. “Guys, he sees us!” Her shock turned into excitement.

“He’s gonna go to the pond.” John B concluded, letting his arms fall back by his sides. “Come on.” He urged, jogging in the direction of the pond before picking up the pace, the four of you following. “Come on!”

WHEN YOU ARRIVED AT THE POND, The pilot had just landed �� a blue and white private plane with the words ‘FLYING FISH’ painted in yellow on the side. The group of you exchanged weary glances, but it didn’t deter John B from approaching the aircraft as the pilot lowered the stairs.

“Hey there!” The man flying the plane greeted you all, stepping down from the vehicle. He had long auburn hair, a questionable outfit, sunglasses, and looked to be in his thirties, you presumed. He didn’t seem too cautious of the seven strangers he’d come upon on a deserted island…

“Hello, hello.” John B greeted back, far too chipper to be approaching a man he didn’t know. But you figured you were the ones who flagged him down.

“We’re gettin’ out of here!” Pope cheered, him and Cleo running down from the hill they were on top of, clapping JB on the shoulders. “We’re finally gettin’ out of here.” The dark-skinned boy celebrated breathlessly.

“Well, what do we got here?” The pilot asked, observing you all one by one.

“Ah…” John B stuttered to find words now. “Y’know, just some castaways.” He responded. It was a half-truth. Hopefully, this man had no idea who any of you were. And why you really ended up on this island.

“Ha, well, I’ll cross that off the grocery list.” He joked, but it didn’t land very well with the semi-tough crowd. A moment of silence swept over you all, sharing looks back and forth. “Uh... hang on.” The pilot broke the ice once more. “I got just the thing for y’all. Just one second…”

One glance at Sarah and John B could tell from her stone cold expression that she was not on board. “Hey, no, look at this guy.” He tried to reason with a smile on his face. “...You think he works for your dad?” Sarah didn’t respond to, or even really acknowledge, the boy — eyes laser-focused on the overly-giddy pilot who now held booze and a first-aid kit. “It’s okay.” John B tried to soothe, a light hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Two things you need on a deserted island,” The man smiled, balancing on the stairs of his plane. “First-Aid and rum.” He concluded, baring all his teeth in his smile. “Incoming!” He warned before tossing the bottle of liquor at Sarah’s feet, the bottle splashing in the shallow pond water, causing the girl to back up as it hit the surface. “And here ya go.” He motioned towards the group, tossing the first-aid kit to you all, which Pope caught. “Figured you need it more than me.” He shrugged, eyes on your leg as he threw a hand out in your direction. “What happened there? Shark?” He chuckled.

“Man.” You retorted bluntly, crossing your arms in defense.

The man nodded silently, sensing you weren’t exactly in the mood for conversation. “So, uh, what’s the story? You guys sank a boat?” He asked lightheartedly.

“Uh, jumped off one.” John B corrected, scratching the back of his head. “...Her dad’s.” He pointed his thumb at Sarah, the group collectively looking at him with a disappointed expression.

“In-laws, man.” The pilot made an ideal conversation. “They’re tough. Well, have no fear. Jimmy’s here.” He joked, hand on his hip like Superman.

“Well, all hail Jimmy.” Cleo smiled, looking at the man with a small smile. “Guys, let’s go.” She urged, being the first one to board the airplane, followed quickly by Pope, then John B, then Kie — you, JJ, and Sarah being the only ones to display some sort of hesitation before following behind the others and boarding.

“Welcome aboard the Flying Fish!” Jimmy cheered, allowing you all to crowd inside the aircraft before closing the door and taking a seat in the cockpit. “I’m Jimmy Portis. I’ll be your captain today. Is this all? Seven of you?”

“Uh, yeah.” John B answered. “That too heavy?” He asked cautiously, noting the space — or lack thereof — inside the plane.

“Nah…” Jimmy reassured. “...Well, maybe, but I think ol’ Fish here’ll probably be okay. We could always throw somebody overboard, right? Ha ha...” He joked. You think.

Jimmy started up the plane, the vehicle jerking dangerously before he managed to get it off the ground. Nothing but the sound of the propellers and you all breathing took up the silence until JJ broke the ice. “So, what were you doin’ all the way out here, Jimmy?” He asked, eyeing Portis suspiciously.

“I got a little guide outfit in Saint Vincent.” Jimmy replied, raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the loud machinery. “I was spottin’ fish.”

“What were you spottin’?” JJ inquired further, all eyes on him.

“Eh, you know, the usual.” Portis shrugged, glancing briefly at you all in the back. “...Wahoo.”

Your brows furrowed at Portis’s words, the quick change in your demeanor not going unnoticed by the blonde next to you as Jimmy put on his aviation headset, limiting his hearing. “What is it?” JJ asked, causing the rest of the group to turn their attention to you, leaning in as you licked your lips, eyes going back and forth between Portis and your friends as you spoke.

“Wahoo don’t run in September.” You spoke, tone low.

“...Are you sure?” JJ asked, raising a brow.

“Marine Biology, remember?” You defended yourself. “Whoever this guy is, he’s not a fisherman.”

“Maybe the run just starts earlier out here?” Pope threw out, but even the genius himself didn’t seem sure of his words.

“In the Caribbean?” JJ doubted, face falling.

“...No.” Sarah finally spoke. “I know what this is.” She shook her head, tone dangerously low — if you didn’t see her lips moving, you wouldn’t recognize her voice. “He’s working for my dad. And he’s probably been looking for us the entire time.”

“Alright,” JJ started, staring at the floor of the plane as he gathered his thoughts. “Well, we gotta find out. Start lookin’ for…some sort of clues or somethin'.” He suggested, blue eyes wandering the plane and the abundance of photos and newspaper clippings taped to the walls inside. Suddenly, he paused, sights set on a satchel hanging from the back of Portis’s captain chair.

With a finger signal, he urged John B to distract the pilot, the brunette getting the hint as he leaned forward from where he sat behind Jimmy. “Hey, Jimmy!” He called.

“Yeah, what’s up?” The pilot called back, the remaining five of you watching as JJ maneuvered quietly towards the bag.

“How, uh, how long you had this bird?” John B continued his line of questioning.

“Oh, about ten years now.”

“Oh, cool. Cool...How long you been flyin’?”

“I’ve been flyin’ all my life.” Jimmy told JB, you watching as JJ slipped a hand inside the bag, fishing around for…something. He managed to pull out a book.

“Uh, who’s that lovely lady right there?” John B pointed to a picture on the control panel, trying to keep Portis distracted.

“Oh-ho-ho. That right there? That’s Cynthia.” Jimmy perked up at the mention of the woman.

“Cynthia?” JB pressed further as JJ inspected the book — V.S. Naipul’s The Loss of El Dorado…

It had to be a coincidence…right? Some people just have an interest in gold hunt centered history, you dismissed. The six of you exchanged wordless glances, watching as JJ flipped the cover open, a photo wedged in between the cover and the title page. Tilting it so the rest of you could see — the blonde revealed a picture of the Coastal Venture, aka the ship you all had jumped off of a month ago that put you where you were today.

“Oh my God...” Sarah gasped, snatching the picture from JJ’s fingers. “This is the boat we were on. With Eberhimi and the cross.” She said, showing the rest of the pogues the picture.

“So he was lookin’ for us?” Cleo asked, cheery demeanor diminishing by the second.

“Exactly.” JJ agreed.

“He’s working for my dad.” Sarah concluded, clenching her jaw.

Just then, the plane jerked violently, causing you all to grip at the walls and each other. “Hey, y’all better hold somethin’!” Portis warned. “We got some unexpected turbulence up here!”

“Guys, whatever it is, it’s happening fast…” Kiara spoke, peering out of the window. “Look.” She urged you all, all eyes turning to the window where you and JJ sat.

“That looks like Barbados...” Cleo observed, expression tightening in confusion. “I’ve been there with Terrance.”

“Okay…” JJ breathed, turning back to look at you all. “There’s seven of us, one of him.” He gathered, glancing quickly at Jimmy. “You know my vote. We storm the cockpit.”

“Then who’s gonna fly the plane?” You asked, shooting a blank expression at your impulsive boyfriend.

“I’ve seen Pope play fly simulators.” JJ threw out, Pope’s face twisting at the unwanted Pilot Nomination.

“I crop-dusted for my uncle. Last summer.” The boy corrected. “This is not the same thing.”

“We don’t have time to pretend that’s a real option.” Kie reprimanded.

“Do you have an idea?” JJ argued.

“Something safe.” You offered, backing Kie.

“Why don’t we just wait until the plane lands somewhere safe and then we sneak out?” Pope added his two-cents. “And if somebody comes to mess with us, we mad-dog ‘em.”

“Okay…” JJ seemed to concede. “I like the mad-dogging part.”

“Put that back.” You advised the blonde boy, referring to the book he still had in possession. “Put it back.” You whispered.

JJ signaled John B once more to distract the pilot again as he gathered the book and other items that jumped out of the bag, edging closer to the captain’s seat to return them to their initial place. “Hey, Jimmy. Is that Burning Man right there?” JB spoke.

“Yeah, that’s Burning Man, all right. That’s my first time.” He spoke with glee about his past experiences as JJ flipped open the satchel.

“How many times you been?”

“I started goin’ when I was eighteen.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about it-” John B tried, but for some reason, Portis felt the need to look back in JJ’s direction, catching the blonde with his hand in his bag, cutting off John B’s next words.

“Hey, man!” Portis shouted. “What the hell’re you doin’?!” He raged, reached a swift hand out to grab JJ — effectively knocking the headset off of his own head and sending the Flying Fish swaying side to side. “That’s mine!” Portis yelled, completely abandoning the steering wheel and grabbing at JJ. “Who are you really?!”

“Fly the plane!” Sarah yelled at Jimmy, her words falling on deaf ears as John B and you fought for Portis to release JJ and the others held onto the walls for dear life.

“It’s my book! Give it back!”

“Please fly the plane... Please fly the plane...”

Jimmy seemed to come to his senses when the plane started beeping, releasing JJ and grabbing hold of the steering wheel. The Flying Fish was taking a nosedive straight into the ocean. “Come on... Come on, Fish...” Jimmy spoke to himself.

You all watched fearfully as Jimmy tried to regain control of the aircraft, failing to get it back on track before it hit the surface of the water, causing you all to hit your heads against the roof of the plane. For a second, all you saw was black, a burning pain blooming on your thigh until the plane steadied and you opened your eyes — the entire cabin was filled with water, already up to your chests.

The sounds of sputtering and coughing filled the space as everyone collected themselves. “Is everybody good?” Pope asked. He received no response but everyone seemed to be okay. “We gotta get out here...We gotta get out before it sinks...”

John B scrambled to the back of the plane, kicking out the door — a beam of sunlight blinding you all temporarily. Peering out of the open door, you all could see a fleet of men in uniforms with utility belts and bulletproof vests coming towards the plane, running down the beach. “They... don’t look friendly.” John B muttered, backing away from the door.

“No, they look very unfriendly.” Pope reiterated, voice biting. “But we gotta go. C’mon...” He led you all out of the plane, jumping into the water one by one. “Y/N, come on.” Pope urged, you watching from inside the sinking plane as your friends waded in the water.

Your eyes fleeted back and forth between them and the pilot. What about him? The thought of leaving him here to die made your stomach turn. “Hang on!” You called back, turning in the water to go further into the plane.

“No, no, no, Y/N, come on!” John B called, keeping his head above water.

“Y/N, what are you doing?!” JJ’s voice bellowed, followed by Pope’s urgent tone.

“Come on, get to the pier.” He instructed the others as you swam to the front of the plane, ignoring the soreness in your leg as you did so. Reaching Portis, your hands went under his arms to feel around his torso — his seatbelt was off. Good. Clasping your hands in front of his chest, you used every ounce of strength you had to carry the unconscious pilot out of the broken cockpit window, struggling to keep both him and yourself above water.

You caught the sight of your friends swimming towards the pier as you swam to shore, in the opposite direction. You could put Portis on the shore and swim back to your friends. You could do it.

“Wait,” JJ said, hiding underneath the pier with the others. “Where’s Y/N?”

“...She went the other way.” Sarah said, all eyes on your figure bobbing through the water with Jimmy in hand, swimming to the sand. Two people ran up to help you, taking Portis’s limp frame off your hands.

“Take him...” You breathed, kneeling in the sand and trying to catch your breath as they tended to the pilot. The man of the pair performed CPR on Portis and within seconds the pilot was coughing up salt water — bright blue eyes looking around terrified until they landed on you.

“...Thank you.” He rasped, laying limply in the sand.

Your jaw clenched as you peered down at the man, kneeling in the sand. “You lied to us.” You spat. “Who are you?”

Portis didn’t respond, the sound of motor engines in the distance causing you both to turn your heads, finding two men on ATV’s and in those aforementioned uniforms heading your way. “Oh, God…” Portis groaned at the sight of the officers before turning back to you. “You should get out of here.” He warned frantically.

You cursed, your eyes going between Portis, the guards, and your friends before you up and ran further up the beach and into the mess of grass and trees. You came up on a gate, watching as another car with more guards arrived and making it so there was no way off the beach. Thinking on your feet, you hid behind one of the boats in the grass, hoping they would think you got away.

“Policemen! Search all over the area!” One of the guards commanded his team, accent heavy as the sound of heavy boots filled your ears from all directions. You cursed, knowing if you didn’t move fast, they’d find you. Taking notice of a gap under the boat, you quickly crouched, finding a crawl space underneath the structure. Wiggling underneath, you hoped the boat and the barrels that were holding it up would hide you well enough and not collapse overtop of you.

The sounds of whispers and whistles around you made your heart race, the sound of footsteps still looming from every which way. Your heart jumped to your throat when a shadow passed by the barrels holding up the boat you were hiding underneath — one of the guards inspected the structure and peered in between the gaps in the barrels before his eyes unfortunately seemed to spot you.

“Hey.” He grunted, reaching out for you. Without a thought, you used your good leg to kick him through the barrels, sending the man flying onto his back with a hard grunt. You started scrambling to get from under the boat when he sat up, rubbing his head. “She’s over here!”

Coming out into the light, you tried to make a run for it, but you were caught by the man and another guard before you could go anywhere — the two men restraining you in their strong hold.

“Get off!” You fought against the policemen. “Let go of me!”

“Dammit.” JJ cursed from his place under the pier — the pogues watching as the men took you away. “What’re we gonna do?” JJ asked immediately, eyes focused on the two men loading you into their truck. “We’re goin’ after her, right?”

“...What can we do?” John B threw out solemnly.

“Where are they taking her?” Kiara pondered in deep thought.

Voices up on the bridge the pogues were hiding beneath had JJ looking up even though he couldn’t see anything. “They’re all up there…”

“They’re lookin’ this way.” Cleo pointed out, the guards on the beach averting their attention to the pier one by one. “We gotta go.” She warned, being the first to, begrudgingly, swim away — not without a sad glance in your direction first.

The others were quick to follow as JJ lagged behind. John B was the only one to notice the blonde boy’s lack of movement. “...We gotta go, JJ.” JB urged, a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything. “JJ, come on. We can’t save her if we get caught.” Those words seemed to register more clearly in the Maybank boy’s mind, finally convincing to swim away with the others. He’d come back for you. That was a guarantee.

“We lost the others. We’ll keep searchin’.” A voice came through on the walkie that the guard in the pick-up of the truck that was sitting with you had in hand. You were handcuffed and soaking wet, eyes snapping towards the shadow walking dangerously close to the truck in the corner of your eye — Portis.

A hard expression set on your face as he stood in front of you, clearly in some sort of kahoots with these men considering his proximity to the truck without one of them telling him to back up. “...I saved your life.” You hissed, shivering from the cold.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Jimmy profusely apologized, your face not softening in the slightest. “I’m gonna try to help you, okay? I swear, I didn’t know it was gonna be like this.” He claimed — he didn’t know what was gonna be like what? “Look, if you don’t fight, if you just do what they say, these guys…they probably won’t hurt you.” ...Probably?

You shook your head in disbelief, squinting your eyes at the pilot. “...What did Ward promise you?”

Jimmy’s face contorted into one of pure confusion as the truck started up. “...Who?”

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” Pope questioned angrily to his group of friends — the six of them hiding out of sight. “Why would they wanna kidnap Y/N? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It’s called bait.” JJ deadpanned, slumped against a wall.

“I am so…sick of this.” Sarah spat, eyes on the ground as she sat next to JB. “...Do you think that there is any way we could trust the cops?”

JJ sputtered before getting up, approaching the girl. “The cops? You’re jokin’, right?” He asked in disbelief of Sarah’s suggestion. “You seriously think your daddy hasn’t called them already?” Sarah lowered her head at JJ’s words and clearly agitated tone of voice, going silent.

“I have a crazy idea.” Pope started. “Why don’t we call my parents?”

John B sighed, eyes going towards the curly-haired boy. “And say what, Pope?”

“And say we’re alive.” He sassed back, exhaustedly. “I haven’t seen my family in I don’t know how long. They’re probably worried sick about me. We can just call ‘em and maybe ask ‘em to wire us money or something.”

“And put them in danger?”

“I got a better idea.” JJ cut into the conversation between his two friends. “...And faster.” He said, holding up a wallet clutched between his two fingers.

“...Whose is that?” Sarah asked, blinking at the blonde.

“You seriously think I’m gonna go through someone’s backpack and not pinch their wallet?” He asked, shooting a look at the group as he opened the wallet and pulled out an ID. “‘Jimmy Portis. 101 Cattle Wash.’ I bet that’s where they got my girl. All right? So, that’s where we’re goin’.” He concluded, passing the wallet off to John B as Pope interjected.

“Yeah, that’s conceivable, but can we at least think this through?”

“You got a better idea, Pope?” JJ challenged, tone flat. He eyed his friend before walking, not seeming to care whether the group was following behind. “C’mon. 101 Cattle Wash!” He called over his shoulder. “That’s where we’re goin’.”

“TAKE HER UPSTAIRS. THE ORINOCO ROOM.” The maid beside you commanded the guard in front of you, the woman looking you up and down before noting the reopened wound on your leg. “And call the medic.”

After a long drive through the middle of nowhere, you’d arrived at a large property — acres of land surrounding a large estate. They’d unhandcuffed you halfway there and now you were standing in the foyer of the property, surrounded by two guards and a maid.

“This way.” The guard instructed, grabbing your forearm rather roughly and pulling you in his direction. “Up.” He directed simply as he walked you up the staircase. Reaching the top of the staircase, the man opened one of the many doors, practically tossing you inside before speaking. “Inside.” You glanced around quickly — it was a nicely decorated bedroom. That was all.

You whipped around quickly in order to catch the man before he most likely slammed the door shut and locked you inside. “...Why am I here?” You inquired, voice low. “Who are you working for?”

The guard fixed you with a hard look before speaking. “Dinner at eight.” He ignored your inquiries. “I’d clean up.” He suggested, something smug and unwilling in his voice as he looked you up and down.

You clenched your jaw and balled your fists as he backed out of the doorframe, turning away from you. “Just tell me what they want.” You tried before he walked away, your path being blocked by an older woman with grey hair, holding a med-kit in her hand. “...Who are you?” You asked, eyes fleeting between the item clutched in her grasp and her eyes.

“I’m Doctor Alvita.” She smiled, one of the only people here to do so. “Don’t worry, I won’t be here long. I just need to take a look at your leg-”

“My leg is fine.” You snapped. “I don’t need or want you people touching me until you tell me where I am.”

The doctor just sighed, setting her kit down on the dresser and opening it with her back to you. “You’re at Vaux Hall. I can’t tell you much more than that.” She said simply, turning around to you with an orange liquid, gauze, scissors, and a needle with thread in her hand.

You swallowed harshly at the sight of her supplies. “Sit. Please.” She motioned for the bed, you silently climbing up onto it as she kneeled in front of you, cutting away your shorts to fully reveal the gash on your thigh.

“...Can’t you at least tell why I’m here?” You spoke after a few moments, ignoring the burning sensation as she doused your leg in an antiseptic.

Silence. The doctor offered no response as she steadied your leg with one hand, bringing the needle to it with the other. You panicked internally as the cool metal tip made contact with your tender skin, the pain only increasing as she pierced your skin. Sucking air in through your teeth, your fingers threaded in the silk sheets of the bed you were sat on.

This went on for what felt like forever, but you never made a sound — just sat in tense silence as you clenched your jaw so hard you feared you would a chip a tooth. You counted the seconds until she neared the end of the gash, pulling the surgical thread through one last time before knotting it off and snipping it as you released the breath you were holding.

“There. Should heal much nicer now.” She smiled smally, standing from her knelt position and turning back to her kit.

Your eyes wandered the room, landing on the pair of scissors she’d absentmindedly left lying beside you on the mattress. You thought on it for a brief moment before snatching up the utensil and swiftly standing from the bed. You walked towards her quickly, startling the woman as you threw her around to face you by the shoulder and held the scissors to her neck.

“What’re you-”

“Tell me where I am.” You demanded, pressing the metal further into her neck, watching her swallow harshly as her hands gripped the desk behind her. Her wide eyes darted around the room before landing back on you.

“...They won’t hurt you-”

“Then why am I here?!” You pressed, stepping impossibly closer. “You don’t work for Ward. So, who do you work for?-”

“Guard!” The doctor screamed, catching you off guard before shoving you back as you hit the bed before steadying yourself. At the sound of a pair of rapid, heavy footsteps, you dropped the scissors to the floor as Doctor Alvita stood shocked, holding a hand to her neck as she took deep breaths.

“What’s goin’ on in here?” The man spoke in a loud, deep voice as he burst through the Orinoco Room door.

“...I’m all done here.” The doctor spoke, shooting you a mean glare as she hastily secured her kit and snatched it from the dresser, picking up the scissors from the floor and standing next to the guard. The man shot you both pointed looks before seemingly dismissing his own suspicions and leading the doctor away as he shut the door in your face and locked it. You cursed under your breath, turning away from the door. There wasn’t much in the room — a bed, a closet, and a window…

Walking over to it, you pulled back the sheer curtains slightly — watching as a trio of guards talked on the patio of the property. One of them had a dog, not that it mattered. Backing away from the glass, you ended up next to the closet. It was open with, what looked like, five of the same pieces of clothing inside — a scarlet colored, spaghetti-strap dress — a note attached to the one in the front.

“PICK YOUR SIZE”

“THIS IS IT.” JJ proclaimed, stopping in front of the worn down wooden sign in front of the dull blue bungalow — ‘101 Cattle Wash’. “Let’s go around back.” He led his group of friends onto the property. Your friends crept around the house, tiptoeing through shrubs and bushes to get to the backyard, crouching down slightly as they walked closer to the house.

“Hey,” John B called quietly, looking at the group and throwing his head in the direction of one of the windows.

“Window?” Pope asked. “Want some help?” To which JB shook his head.

“Nah, I got this.” He assured, firmly gripping the base of the half-open window and pulling himself up. The five of them watched the boy struggle slightly to pull himself up, their attention being diverted when JJ’s voice broke through the air.

“Whoa.” The blonde jumped, spotting a small family of crabs edging towards his feet. “Yo, get off.” He tried when one of the pinching crustaceans climbed onto the toe of his boot, the boy trying his best to shake it off. “Get off! Dude-” He grew frustrated, attempting to pick up the crab and throw it somewhere else when it pinched his finger. “Shhhit!” He exclaimed, flinging the creature across the lawn.

“Shhh!” Kiara tried, whipping her head in his direction.

“What’re you doing?” Pope added in, his tone hushed. “Does the element of surprise mean nothing to you?”

“It turned my thumb purple…” JJ pouted, shooting Pope a childish glare.

“Shh.” Cleo butted in. “Relax. It’s just a crab, man...” She assured, rolling her eyes at the boy’s theatrics.

“Damn little sea spider.” JJ muttered under his breath, following his five friends as they followed after John B — each entering the house through the window one by one. The house’s interior was crowded with beads, tapestry, and poorly-tended plants.

“I’ll take the front.” Cleo whispered, weaving through the mess of decorations and furniture.

“I’ll take the back.” Sarah compromised, finding her way and shooting John B a weary glance.

“Y/N?...” Cleo whispered, peeking her head around every door frame of the front of the house.

“Y/N?” John B called out after her as he peeked into a dark room, a bit louder but still relatively quiet.

JJ and Pope scavenged every part of the house that wasn’t being looked at. Your friends were leaving no stones unturned, even examining the cracks in the walls as if you’d be there. “Kie,” JJ called out, eyeing the brown-haired girl as she peeked into a another room before turning at the sound of her name. “No one in there?”

Kiara shook her head, leaving the room. “No.”

JJ sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his hair as the group recollect in the middle of the home. “Okay, well, if she’s not here, where the fuck is she?” The six of them fell into frustrated silence, thinking of where the hell else you could be possibly be. This wasn’t Kildare. They didn’t know the way this island worked or other possible places you could’ve been taken. This was their only lead…

“Guys?...” Pope spoke, walking over to a painting on the wall that caught his attention. They all furrowed their eyebrows and exchanged confused looks before walking over to the Heyward boy and taking a look at what he’d found.

“What?” JJ asked, clearly lost. “It’s a burning boat.”

“It’s the San Jose.” John B clarified, eyes locked on the piece of art.

“This is the boat from Denmark’s diary.” Pope corrected even further. “The ship that Captain Limbrey stole the cross from.”

“And the Merchant gold.”

“...Great.” JJ added in, looking at his two friends with a bit of annoyance. “Whatever. It’s about the gold, not my girl. This...doesn’t help us.” He refocused his friends before walking off to see if he could find something of actual use as they stared aimlessly at the painting, dismissing his words.

“Well, Portis is a treasure guy.” John B concluded, raising a brow as he spoke.

“...This is too close to our boat.” Pope said, the wheels turning in his mind.

Kiara sighed from the back of the house, letting her arms fall at her sides. “Just let it go.” She groaned. “That’s not why we’re here-”

Her words were broken with a clean whistle from Cleo as she stared out of one of the windows facing the street. “Guys, guys, guys…” She lured the five of them over, Sarah being the first one over her shoulder.

“What?” She asked, peering out of the window. “Shit…It’s Portis.” She cursed, your six friends watching the man pull up into his own driveway and cut the ignition on his truck. “Do we run?”

“No.” JJ and Kiara said in unison, the group turning to them as the sound of Jimmy getting out of his car rang out.

“Just follow me. And do what I say.” JJ demanded, conviction in his voice as he instructed his friends to hide as the sound of Portis’s voice got closer and closer — he was on the phone, arranging repairs for his plane.

He entered his home just as everyone had settled into their places, scattered around the room. Ending the call, Jimmy stopped in the middle of his living room, a crab at his feet as he sighed. “I’ve had it with you guys…” He complained, making moves to bend down and pick up the creature before JJ was jumping up from his hiding place and ramming his shoulder into the man, sending him flying back in Pope’s direction, who was quick to jump up as well, putting Portis in a headlock.

Once it became clear that Pope was struggling to subdue the man himself, John B got involved, charging at Portis who was quick to push him away and into a wall before he managed to get out of Pope’s hold.

Portis was quick to try and flee his home, running through the open front door until he was tripped by three small feet — Kiara, Sarah, and Cleo managing to send the man flying forward.

Jimmy fell to the ground with a grunt, JJ and Cleo being the ones to grab him by his arms and clothing, slamming him against his patio furniture. JJ kept the man planted against the wooden table as Cleo held a knife to his neck.

“You guys really shouldn’t be here right now.” Jimmy spoke through labored breaths, still catching his own.

The two ignored his statement as the remaining for watched them interrogate the pilot. “Where is she, Jimmy?” JJ pressed, edging his face closer to the older man’s.

“Answer the man.” Cleo added, balling her face up in anger.

“You really don’t wanna know…” Portis shook his head, the two pogues holding him down exchanging an angry glance.

“Talk.” Kiara spoke up, taking a step forward and putting a broken bottle under Portis’s chin. “Who took her?”

“Was it Ward?” Sarah spoke up from her place behind the three, standing with her arms crossed and a hard expression on her face.

Your friend's faces fell when Portis broke out into laughter. “Ward?” He chuckled, despite the weapons being pointed in his direction. “Who’s Ward?” He cackled before his laughter died down into frustration. “You guys really don’t understand who you’re messing with.”

“Then we’ll call the cops.” John B threw in, trying to see if he could intimidate any more information out of him.

“Sure, call the cops.” Jimmy shrugged, throwing his head back onto the tabletop. “See how far that gets ya. This guy owns the cops.” He informed, all five of their eyes trained on him as Pope looked around the patio, spotting the bag Jimmy arrived with and discarded as he entered his home. “He’s got eyes all over the island looking for you. All of you.” Jimmy gritted through his teeth and Pope opened the satchel, rummaging through it and pulling out an envelope. “He’s a big man.” Jimmy proclaimed. “The Kingfish.”

“The Kingfish?...” JJ reiterated to himself, eyes locked on to Portis as he tried to process the man’s words.

“Hey.” Pope spoke up, wedging between his friends and holding up the envelope for Jimmy to see. “What’s this?”

“Hey, what the-” Portis started, going from zero to hundred within a second. “Take your hands off my shit!” He warned, almost jumping off of the table before JJ slammed him back down and Cleo pressed the weapon further against his jugular.

“Shut up.” JJ rolled his eyes, growing annoyed.

“Hey, quiet down!” Cleo warned.

“What is it?” JJ asked, eyes on Pope as the boy opened the parcel and pulled out a hefty amount of Carribean money as Jimmy just laughed to himself. “What’s that, Jimmy?” JJ turned back to the man in question, his anger plastered across his features clear as day. “Is that the payoff? Is that the payoff for my girlfriend, Jimmy?” He pressed, yanking the man up further by the neckline of his shirt. “Is it?!” He jerked him around.

“Hey,” Pope started again, noticing something in the corner of the envelope. “What’s Vaux Hall?” He asked the pilot, waving the piece of paper in his face. Jimmy just locked eyes with the Heyward boy, shaking his head slightly.

“You really don’t wanna go there, man.” He said, voice wavering. “That’s the lion’s den.”

John B nodded his head, a stone hard look on his face as they finally somewhat cracked the older man. “That’s it. That’s where Y/N is.” He concluded for himself. “Come on.” He directed his friends, entering the house with Pope as Portis yelled behind them.

“You really don’t wanna go there!” He warned as JJ and Cleo continued to restrain him while Kiara and Sarah watched.

“Do we look afraid to you?” Cleo asked, pointing the tip of her knife under his chin.

Portis gulped, swallowing his fears before responding, a thin layer of sweat emerging on his forehead. “...You should be.”

Cleo looked at JJ, who fixed her with a deadpan expression, before smacking her teeth just as Pope and John B emerged from inside the house, hands full of attire. “Let’s go. C’mon.” The Routledge boy urged, running down the steps of the patio. “Portis, we’re taking some clothes. Deal with it.” He shot over his shoulder as the pilot was finally released, all six of your friends fleeing his property.

Jimmy sat up on his elbows, calling after them as he watched their figures run away. “Big mistake!” He shouted, catching his breath and collecting himself. “You’re just gonna make it worse for her!”

“POPE, ARE YOU SURE WE HAVE THE RIGHT ADDRESS?”

“...I know you aren’t talkin’ to me about having the right address.” Pope sassed, eyeing the blonde who had his head thrown back in exhaustion, walking at the front of the group.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking.” JJ affirmed, turning around to face the boy. They were walking in the middle of nowhere — no houses, no businesses, nothing around for what seemed like miles. Just tall grass and bushes and trees to shield them from the blistering sun and suffocating heat.

“Look, the place says Vaux Hall. It’s on the map.” Pope reassured, looking at the map bolted to the Bus Stop sign they walked up on.

“Yeah but we don’t know if that’s where we are.” JJ countered, flicking the sign with his hand in frustration.

“Okay, well we're in the the general vicinity, so.” The boys argued, oblivious to the sound of a heavy duty truck pulling up beside them. The first vehicle they’d seen in hours.

“Why don’t we just ask someone?” Cleo suggested, growing tired of the bickering and turning to the man driving the tractor that was pulling up near them. “Hey!” She waved, the man slowing down the vehicle and fixing her with a look, offering no words. “Pardon I.” She excused herself. “Y’know where we can find Vaux Hall?” She asked, peering up at him.

“...You kiddin’ me, right?” The dark-skinned man asked, turning in his seat and looking at the expanse of land. “Everything you can see, all around you, is Vaux Hall.”

“Oh.” JJ spoke, looking around at the nothing that surrounded him. “Everywhere.”

“Okay, so who lives up there?” Kiara inquired, shielding her face from the sun with her hands while using one to point upwards, towards the hill.

“Up there?” The old man asked himself, looking in the direction she pointed. “Carlos Singh. Just on the other side of that wall.” He clarified, watching as your friends eyed the stone wall. “But…take it from me.” The man started once more, gaining their attention. “He’s no one you wanna get to know.” He warned before taking the brakes off of his tractor and driving off, watching through his sideview mirrors as your friends went in the direction of the wall anyway. In search of you.

IT’D BEEN AT LEAST AN HOUR SINCE YOU’D BEEN LEFT IN THE ROOM ALONE. You’d done as instructed, changing into the dress provided to you as you adjusted the newfound tenderness in your leg. Somehow, it felt better and worse all at once.

You were standing by the window, peering out at the vast expanse of land and the lack of places to run to when the door abruptly opened, causing you to turn your head away from the glass pane.

In the doorway stood a brown-skinned woman adorned in a maid’s uniform, her hands clasped in front of her as she looked to you with a small smile. “He’s ready.” She spoke simply.

You didn’t offer a verbal response or ask any questions, tired of not receiving satisfactory answers or none at all. So you simply nodded, watching as the woman turned around and walked away, leaving the door open as an invitation to follow her.

The sound of birds chirping traveled through the many open windows as she led you down the stairs, lighting illuminating through the stained glass windows that were littered throughout the estate.

The woman led you to an open door, the sound of liquid pouring coming from inside as she stood by the doorframe, motioning for you to enter with her arms. You took slow steps, passing through the door to find a man with his back turned pouring liquor into a glass. He was dressed in a suit, hair buzzed.

“...Excuse me?” You announced yourself, looking cautiously around the room. At the sound of your voice, the male set the liquor bottle down and turned around to see who’d entered the room.

You felt yourself freeze when you made direct eye contact with the devil himself.

“...Hi, sunshine.” Rafe smirked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You couldn’t stop yourself from biting your lip in anger, your fists balling at your sides as you stormed towards the Cameron boy. “I knew you and Ward were behind this shit.” You snarled, hair and dress whipping around you as you gained on him.

Rafe’s face twisted as you came to a stop in front of him, a mere foot between you two at this point. “What are you talkin' about?” He asked, offended. “You tryin' to weasel in on my deal right now? Is that what’s goin’ on?” He pressed, leaning down in your face.

“What fucking deal?” You spat back, words spewing quickly from your lips as Rafe’s eyes flickered between your own an the now stitched up laceration on your leg that the cocktail dress failed to conceal. “I’ve been stranded on an island for a month, I don’t give a shit about whatever deal your talking about-”

“What happened to your leg?” He cut you off, taking you by surprise as you stopped talking.

“...Take a guess.” You sassed, cocking your head to the side. “Don’t worry. I’ve been in worse pain.” You shot, looking the boy up and down.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, y’know.” A third voice interjected, the both of you turning your heads in the direction it came from to find a man with his back turned staring out of a window in the conjoined room. He chuckled to himself as he turned around to look at the pair of you.

“Who are you?” Rafe asked, annoyance in his tone as the man took slow, calculated steps in the direction of you and him, rubbing the full-beard that adorned his face.

“...Me?” The man reiterated, pointing to himself. “My name is Carlos Singh.” He smiled, fixing his blue and black plaid blazer before adjusting his gold watch. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Cameron.” He spoke, shoving one of his hands in his pocket and use the other to point at you. “And Ms.Carter, I do apologize for the rough tactics in bringing you here. But please, come.” He urged you both, pointing to the furniture behind him. “Sit down.”

You and Rafe exchanged a quick glance before narrowing your eyes at Singh.

“Come.” He said more firmly, his body half turned away from you now. “I don’t bite.” He smiled. Another moments pause and you locked eyes with Rafe who was seemingly waiting to see what you would do. You clenched your jaw before looking away from him and walking into the conjoined living area, taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

“Rough tactics...” Rafe finally spoke, his thoughts lingering on Singh’s words as he entered the room and took a seat himself on the other end of the same couch. “What about me?”

“Yes, Mr. Cameron, false pretenses.” Carlos replied, pouring himself a drink. “But the ends justify the means, I’m afraid.” He assured, swiping up his glass as he turned to find a seat himself as he eyed the two of you, sat noticeably far apart. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Why are we here?” You swiftly responded, sat leaned back on the sofa with you arms crossed defensively, fixing Singh with a deadpan expression.

“Well, Ms. Carter, Mr. Cameron — we share certain interests, y’know. Objectives…” Carlos began, leaning forward in his seated position, swirling his glass around in his hand.

“Is this not about the cross?” Rafe sighed, manspreading in his seat as he threw an annoyed hand out.

“It is.” The man assured, a bright smirk on his face. “Tangentially, it is about the cross, but it’s also about somethin’ much, much bigger than the cross.” He explained, standing from his seat and walking to a painting on the wall as your eyes trailed him. “By orders of magnitude, the completion of a grand quest. You see…” Carlos started, turning slowly to face you both once again. “The story goes that four-hundred and fifty years ago, a Spanish soldier came out of the Orinoco Basin wit’ a few gold beads. And they asked the Spanish soldier where the beads came from, the Spanish soldier replied he got them from a peaceful Indigenous tribe who lived in a city of gold.” He recalled the story enthusiastically. “El Dorado.” Singh emphasized, a hazy look in his eyes.

“And for the next four-hundred and fifty years, people tried to find that gold, y’know.” He spoke with passion, pacing the room as he did. You and Rafe never took your eyes off the man. “They tried. Conquistadors, knights, captains of ships, tribes, entire nations. All fightin’ each other in a race for the end of the rainbow.” He informed. “Thousands of lives, laid on the pyre of gold fever. And it falls to me, y’know.” Singh pointed to himself repeatedly, emphasizing his point. “It falls to me to complete the task. To bring full circle a quest that has gone on for almost five-hundred years…Perhaps the greatest quest in the history of the western hemisphere, y’know.” He continued his borderline villainous monologue as you shifted in your seat, growing aggravated. “And you two,” He started again. “You two are goin’ to play a part in that.”

You side-eyed Rafe slowly at Carlos’s words, watching as he drew his lips into a thin line, growing increasingly annoyed. Your gaze refocused on Singh as he started speaking once again.

“Ms. Carter,” He dipped his head in your direction, eyes boring into yours. “Are you interest in history?” He asked slyly, taking a seat in an armchair across from you and setting his glass down on the end table next to it.

“I prefer to leave the past in the past.” You said, tone flat as you eyed the older man, straightening in your seat. “More a future person, y’know?” You mocked slightly as Rafe groaned, eyes on him now.

“Yeah, I didn’t listen to a word you said, okay?” He spoke, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. “How much you gonna keep philosophizing?” He questioned, jaw tense as he stared Singh down.

The wealthy man simply chuckled, fixing Rafe with a flat look, the smirk he’d had all afternoon quickly disappearing. “You are direct…aren’t you, Mr. Cameron?” Rafe offered no verbal reply, the two men sitting in suffocating silence as they sized each other up with their eyes, both leaned forward in their seats as your eyes darted between them.

“...What do you want from me?” You broke their pissing contest, wanting the answer to the question you’d been asking since you were hauled in the back of a truck on the beach.

Carlos spoke, eyes still on Rafe as he did. “I’ve come to believe that you and your friends,” He started, slowly fixing his gaze on you. “Are in possession of somethin’ that can help me get what I want.”

“Which is?” You asked, cocking a loathsome eyebrow as you sat up straighter.

“...An old manuscript.” Singh told you, staring down at his hands for a moment. “A diary, actually.”

At his words, your mind went to the only diary Singh could be looking for that was connected to the gold. The diary. Denmark’s diary.

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rafe spoke up, shrugging one shoulder. Singh’s smirk was returning as his eyes traveled from a genuinely clueless Rafe to you.

You leaned back once more, shrugging as you maintained eye contact with him. “I don’t know anything about a diary.” You said simply, crossing one leg over the other. Singh dipped his head at your words, seemingly laughing to himself before his expression hardened.

“But how else could you have learned that the cross was on The Royal Merchant?” He threw out, eyes locking with yours.

It was silent for a few beats before you sighed, adjusting yourself. “Look, I can’t help you.”

Singh just let out a single, low laugh. “I was hopin’ you wouldn’t say that, y’know.” He squinted his eyes at you, drawing his lips into a line. “...’Cause unfortunately, I don’t believe you.” He spat, his casual demeanor quickly turning into something more sinister. “You and your friend here couldn’t have found the cross without it.” Carlos snarled.

“He’s not my friend.” You snarled back, eyeing Rafe for the smallest of seconds before fixing your glare on Singh.

“Well, we can’t all be friends.”

“Look,” Rafe cut in with a harsh sigh, clapping his hands and standing from his seat. “This is ridiculous, okay? I’m out.” He affirmed, walking away as he spoke. “I don’t know anything about a damn diary, okay? So…” Just as Rafe turned to leave, a guard side-stepped in front of him — a large gun in his hand as he blocked Rafe’s path.

“...Do I look like a fool to you, Mr. Cameron?” Singh asked, slowly picking up his glass and sipping from it as he stared at Rafe’s back as Rafe stared at the guard — shoulders moving up and down as he laughed to himself. Singh stood from his seat, approaching the Cameron boy. “Do I look like a fool to you?” He repeated, raising his voice.

Rafe simply walked away from the guard, shrugging his shoulders in response to Singh’s question.

“...You have the cross.” Carlos told him, voice nearing a villainous whisper as he slowly pointed behind him in your direction as his eyes remained focused on Rafe. “She and she friends had the cross at one point. So, one of you,” He pointed back and forth between you and Rafe. “Has the diary.” At Singh’s words, Rafe’s eyes darted to you, stuck on your figure on the couch as Singh continued. “And if you really don’t know, then I suggest you convince your friend to tell me.”

You looked away from Rafe’s burning gaze at Carlos’s words, but you could still feel his burning blue eyes on the side of your face.

“Once I have the diary,” Singh turned around to you, the bright smile back on his face. “You’ll be free to leave.”

“ENJOY THE GROUNDS DURIN’ YOUR STAY.” Carlos welcomed you and Rafe, leading you both back up the room you were locked in prior to meeting. “I must warn you though,” The man looked at the both of you, standing in the doorway. “I’m not a man of infinite patience.” He warned, taking his hands out of his pockets and holding up one finger. “You have one day.” He said, voice dropping dangerously low. “...Go to the window for a little demonstration.” He smirked, throwing his head in the direction of the largest window in the room and backing out of the door, closing it behind himself.

“Hey, hey!” Rafe called, walking towards the door as you stayed planted. “You just done talkin’?!” He shouted through the wooden entryway, rattling the handle.

“It’s locked.” You said, walking over to the window Singh had pointed to and pulling the curtains back. The sound of vehicle approaching travelled through the glass as Rafe’s footsteps got closer to you. But your attention was stolen when two people exited the driver and passenger seats of the truck, pulling a man from the back, his plea's so loud, they were clearly heard through the window.

“Get off me, man! I didn’t do nothin’!”

“Who the hell is that guy?” Rafe’s voice appeared dangerously close to your ear, sending a chill down your spine that you brushed off as the man came into view, two guards dragging him by each arm.

“I know him.” You said, tone flat. “It’s Jimmy Portis.” You said, shaking your head as you came to a sad realization. “He was trying to help me…” You muttered to yourself, Rafe’s eyes on you for too long before returning to the window to watch whatever this was play out.

The two guards dragged Jimmy out of your field of vision just as Singh came into frame. He stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at the two of you from his place outside. In slow movements, he reached for the waistband of his pants, pulling out a gun with a sadistic smirk on his face.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” Rafe mumbled to himself, watching Singh’s eyes leave you two and he turned around and continued to walk away and in the direction Portis had been taken. Your eyes widened as you came to grasp the reality of what was happening.

Moments passed and just as you were taking in another labored breath, the sound of a single gunshot rang out.

You didn’t know this Singh guy. But it was clear that if Ward was a sinner, this man was the devil.

“...This diary.” Rafe breathed, turning to you and putting a hand on your shoulder that you promptly shrugged off.

“Don’t.” You warned, eyebrows set into a hard line. “Ever.”

Rafe just licked his lips and sighed. “Okay, no bullshit. Okay?” He spoke frantically, wide eyes searching you. “Do you have it?” He asked, but you didn’t look at him, eyes still staring longingly out of the window. “Y/N.” He gritted, gaining your attention as you slowly drifted your eyes to him.

You stared at him for a few moments, watching the boy send himself into a frenzy. You don’t know what he thought your answer would be.

With a shake of your head, you answered him.

“...No.”

next chapter >

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