CHAPTER SIX:
BAD HABITS
(episode two: the lucky compass)

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JJ WAS DEVELOPING A really bad habit of showing up on Haven's doorstep. After getting shot at in the marsh and discovering that the only thing in the bag John B had found was a frigging compass (which, mind you, was a compass owned by John B's father, but Haven't wasn't mentally prepared to unpack all of that) Haven had been given a ride home by Kie and had once again gone straight to her room. Her mum was asleep by the time she got home, but just her luck, she was awake bright and early knocking on Haven's door the next morning. Clearly, she'd grown tired of giving her daughter space.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded once she fought Haven into eating breakfast with her. "You've barely touched your eggs."

"I'm not hungry," Haven mumbled as she pushed her food around her plate with a fork. She thought the trick would work on her mum but not this time.

"Did something happen?" she asked with narrowed eyes. They weren't close by no means, but the Murphys would always bat for one another if needed.

"No, mum, I'm just not hungry," she sighed.

Melinda huffed but didn't push further. Instead, she sat and ate the rest of her meal, then snatched Haven's untouched plate to throw out. Haven had to bite her tongue as her mother made remarks about how wasteful it was, but in the end she didn't care. She wasn't hungry, and she had more important things to think about than the cold scrambled eggs her mother had given her no choice but to eat. Important things to think about. That was a common theme for her these past few days. No, not even days, months. It'd been like this since the night of Sarah's party.

"You working today?" Melinda asked as she came back to the table.

She sat across from Haven with her nose in a magazine, a coffee mug in her other hand, which prompted Haven to just look at her for a moment with a frown. Melinda Murphy was a thin woman with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes, the total opposite of her daughter. If you put them side-by-side, they didn't even look related, let alone like mother and child. It used to upset Haven when she was a kid, but now the ache wasn't as prominent.

Snapping herself out of her trance, she shook her head. "No, later this week, though."

"Good," her mother nodded.

Taking this as her dismissal, she eagerly rose to her feet and left the room, taking a minute to sit on her bed with her head in her hands. She thought her cousin shooting a gun was bad, but having a shotgun aimed at her and shooting multiple times with the aim to kill was so much worse. For a second, Haven considered giving up the pogues entirely, Kiara included. The girl was everything to her but wherever Kie went, those boys followed and no friend was worth losing the life her father had died to give her.

She quickly shook the thoughts away, guilt eating at her like a disease. How could she even think of leaving Kie after everything she'd done for her? Haven Murphy was no Sarah Cameron, she wouldn't abandon her friends. She took a shower to truly wash the thoughts away, emerging with red skin from the heat paired with sunburn. It was as she changed into another swimsuit with a pretty blue sundress overtop that a knock came from in the living room. Then, after the second it took for her to answer the door, Melinda's shocked gasp.

"Luke?"

Haven rushed out the door in an instant, halfway through clipping her hair into a half-up half-down style and looking around anxiously for her uncle. Alas, it wasn't him but rather it was JJ with John B awkwardly standing behind him.

"Uh, hi, Aunt Melinda," JJ stammered nervously. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I live here," she said with folded arms. "The real question is, what are you doing here, young man?"

"We're here to pick up Haven, Mrs Murphy," John B intervened before an antsy JJ could say anything that would give them away. "Is she here?"

"I am," Haven declared before her mother could lie and slam the door in their faces. When Melinda turned to stare at her in outrage, she just scoffed and nudged her out of the way. "Mum, it's okay, they're my friends."

At that, Melinda turned to survey the two boys. JJ had what looked to be white paint in his hair and John B's eye was bruised from his fight with Topper. Their clothes were also covered in white paint like they'd rolled around on a construction sight, a look that immediately made Melinda anxious. Her brother used to get into all kinds of trouble, and here his son was in the exact same predicament. She didn't want Haven around that.

"Boys, would you mind giving us a moment?" she asked before her daughter could step outside. "I need to speak with my daughter."

Haven sighed but nodded at the boys when they turned to look at her. After a second's hesitation, John B lead a crestfallen JJ down to the Twinkie, muttering for Haven to join them whenever she was ready. Once she was sure they were out of earshot, Melinda snapped the door shut and immediately shook her head.

"I don't think you should be spending time with them, Haven," she said. "They're bad news."

"Mum, come on," she sighed. "JJ's your nephew."

"Exactly. I know what his father is like," she hissed, moving to peer out the window like she expected JJ to rush back up the driveway with a knife or a gun. "No, I think you should stay in today."

"Hey, that's not fair," she snapped, seemingly catching Melinda by surprise as she turned to gape at her. Haven was shocked too, if she was being honest. She and JJ had their moments, but they were starting to get along, and Haven refused to stand in the same room where she'd promised him that he wasn't like his dad only to listen to JJ's aunt of all people dispute that. "We both know Uncle Luke treats JJ like crap. Do you want him to end up like his dad?"

Melinda faltered. "Well, no—"

"They're okay, mum," Haven insisted. "I like spending time with them. Plus, I get to see Kie more, and you like Kie."

Melinda stayed quiet for a moment before sighing in defeat. She couldn't stop Haven from leaving, she just wanted her daughter to be safe. The worst moment of Melinda's life was Sheriff Peterkin showing up at her door late at night with the news that her husband was dead and her only child was injured in the hospital. She didn't know how she'd cope if it happened again.

"Fine," she mumbled. "Just, be safe."

Haven smiled tightly. "I always am."

When her mother made no move to stop her, she put on a pair of sandals and quickly made her way outside, hurrying into the back of the Twinkie and telling John B to step on the accelerator. She could see Melinda watching them pensively from the doorway and quickly averted her gaze. If she had to watch her mother watch her leave, she would've asked John B to turn back, and judging by the state of the frantic boys in the front seat, something had gone down.

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HAVEN THOUGHT IT WAS safe to say that shit had definitely gone down. The boys had refused to tell her what happened on the way there, wanting to save the story so they could tell the pogues at once, but the moment they got to the Chateau and saw Pope and Kie waiting for them, they immediately burst into a frenzy.

"We were right outside like this," JJ started to demonstrate as Haven took a seat next to a clearly confused Pope. "And all we hear is just 'bam, bam, bam!' Knocking paint off the wall, man, from the inside. Alright? And I'm just looking at him, like—" He pulls a dramatic face that had all the pogues rolling their eyes.

"That did not happen," Haven scoffed at him.

"Don't believe me? Look at my hair," he cried, stumbling over to shake the remnants of white paint over Pope and Haven. "Look at this shit, look at it."

"That's dandruff," Haven heard Kie say over her and Pope's groans of disgust.

The thought only grossed her out more, prompting her to shove JJ back and stand up to brush the gunk off her dress. "Thanks so much, JJ. You know this dress was expensive, right?"

"Yeah, whatever, Kook Queen," he rolled his eyes at her. "Look, that's paint, okay? So at that point, I was just waiting for death."

"Wait, okay," Pope sighed, struggling to comprehend what the erratic blonde was actually trying to say. "So you saw the guys that shot at us, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, did you get a good description of them? What did they look like? Anything we can bring to a police report maybe?"

JJ thought it over for a moment before nodding. "Burly."

"Oh, for god's sake," Haven grumbled. Surely, he could do better than that? Or even John B? However, after taking one look at John B's clueless expression, she changed her mind. JJ was their only hope.

"That's not very helpful."

"Okay, fine," he sighed, pacing back and forth as he thought about how to explain it to them better. "Like the type of guy at my dad's garage. I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers—"

Haven did not know, but she wasn't surprised that Luke would do such a thing. If anything, she was more shocked that he bothered with any work in the first place. Luke Maybank wasn't the type that sought to earn anything. The others quickly brushed over it, pestering JJ for more of a description. There had to be something, anything, that could actually assist them.

"I can tell you with full confidence, guys, that these boys, these killers... they're square groupers."

"They're square groupers," Pope repeated incredulously. "Like narco square grouper? Like Pablo Escobar square grouper?"

"Yeah, man," he nodded with wide eyes.

"Guys, not everything is a Kingpin movie," Kie huffed.

Just as JJ went to defend himself, Pope snapped. He stood up, hands falling to his sides in defeat as he stared JJ down. "Okay, so what does this square grouper look like then?"

"You weren't there, bro—"

"Because, apparently, you don't know what to look for!"

"Jesus christ, the testosterone is killing me right now," Haven exclaimed, Kie making a noise of agreement as she massaged her temples.

"Look, dude, I wasn't taking mental little polaroids the whole time. I was under duress, okay?" JJ exclaimed, his paint-encrusted hair falling in front of his eyes. They were red again, Haven noticed, and the thing to blame was the blunt carelessly perched between his fingers. "But I can tell you, I can tell you by the way that Miss Lana was screaming, that these guys are serious, serious hombres, man."

As the others continued to try and figure out what the men wanted with Miss Lana, Haven noticed John B slowly moving from his spot to pace the porch. He had his dad's compass open in his hands, eyes alight with potential realisation.

"John B?" she frowned at him. "What's wrong?" Now, that caught the others' attention. They looked at her in confusion before following her gaze over to John B, landing on the compass as he held it in front of him. He saw things they didn't, coming to conclusions that only he'd understand from his father. "Dude, you good—"

"My dad," he cut her off suddenly. "His office."

He disappeared inside before they could get another word out. The others exchanged a wary glance before following him. From the few times Haven had been to John B's house, she knew he liked to leave Big John's office untouched. The others knew not to go in there too; it was Big John's space and disrupting it meant disrupting everything that was left of him.

John B didn't seem to care now, though, as he searched for the key while explaining, "He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. We used to laugh at him all the time like he was actually gonna find it, but now that he's gone, I've just kinda... I left it as he kept it."

The words were heavier than any of them were prepared for. Kie eventually took one for the team, stepping up to smile at him comfortingly. "Yeah, for when he gets back."

No ifs, just when. Big John had gone missing nine months ago and hadn't been found ever since. He didn't try to contact anyone, nothing was found of him to say that he was dead or hurt. Everyone just presumed that he was, but not John B and by default, the pogues. They refused to kick their friend while he was already down, especially not when some of them knew what it felt like to lose someone.

"Look, John B," Haven sighed as their eyes met. She was the only other person present who knew what death in a parent felt like. Pope and Kie were lucky enough that both their parents were around. JJ... well, his mum had left, but at least she was alive out there somewhere. John B and Haven, on the other hand, death was their reality. "If you don't want to open the door, you don't have to."

"I know," he nodded.

Still, he hesitated for a moment before slowly lifting the key to the lock and removing it from the door. It creaked open then, revealing a room covered in dust but holding all their potential answers. Haven took a few minutes to marvel at it while the others got right to work, but their conversation soon drew her attention away from the countless historical maps and images Big John had pinned to the walls.

"He was shot right after he brought it," John B said.

"Jesus, that's not dark at all," Haven muttered as she moved to stand beside Pope. In front of them was a board showcasing all of John B's prominent ancestors. First, some man named Robert, then a bunch of other names that meant nothing to Haven but everything to the boy opposite her. "So who's next?"

"Well, after Robert died, the compass was shipped back to Henry. He was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass. And after he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had the compass with him when he died in Vietnam—"

"And let me guess," JJ sighed. "He died in action, right?"

"Actually, he was killed by a banana truck, in country."

Haven struggled not to laugh, knowing it was incredibly insensitive. She took a moment to turn away and examine the walls again, only somewhat listening while the others discussed the clearly cursed nature of the compass John B held so near and dear to him. She wasn't sure why they were so surprised. Not even ten minutes after they found it, two men tried to shoot them.

"Look, my dad used to talk about this compartment in here," John B said, moving to sit at the desk Haven had made her way over to and unscrewing the bottom of the compass to show them. "Soldiers used to hide their secret notes in it."

Unfortunately, the compartment was empty, or at least they thought it was. Imprinted on the inside of the lid was one word. Redfield. John B was convinced it was his dad's hand-writing, and so the group immediately set to work on trying to decode the message, starting with objects and soon moving on to places and people. Alas, they weren't having any luck, and they were getting pretty impatient with it. Surely, this wasn't another dead end.

After several minutes writing down ideas, there was a crackling sound outside as a car pulled up on the asphalt. No one seemed to notice, no one but John B and Haven. Haven looked away from the book she was examining only to lock eyes with a frowning John B standing by the window. They both made their way over just in time to view an unfamiliar black truck.

"Not this again," Haven sighed as John B hissed, "Uh, guys, somebody's here."

The others joined them at the window, waiting to see who got out. When the two men from the marsh and now this morning with Miss Lana emerged with weapons attached to their hips, Haven knew they were in deep shit. Just how were they meant to get out of this one?