THE Pogues hid out at the salvage yard, trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do.

Eden was pacing back and forth, Pope stood angrily, JJ looked worried and Kiara had her hands on her head in a stressed manner, fingers weaving through her curls.  The Pogues worked better when everyone was together, and having John B.—who was something of the ringleader of the group, truly—was taking a toll.  They were all worried, stressed, and upset. 

A whirring then sounded, and the four teens all looked at the sky with deadpanned expressions to see a plane flying over the salvage yard—the Cameron's plane flying off with all the gold.  With their gold.

Eden huffed, kicking at the cement floor with her foot.  She should've known better than to think they'd be able to get away with this gold, that something would go right—she wishes she can go back to the night at the Crain house, to where they were all cheering in the Twinkie, and tell herself that it wouldn't work. That all their cheers were for nothing.

"There goes the gold." JJ says angrily, kicking a nearby yard chair with anger, the item snapping.  Eden wasn't so surprised at the boy's action—she was fighting the urge to scream in fury, to let all her emotions out, and JJ was always one to break shit. "Shit!"

However, Pope's actions did shock the Bexley.

"Fuck!" the three other teens look back to see the Heyward boy throwing something into the air. He grabs a metal bat and begins slamming in against a deserted television, letting out his rage as if he was in a rage room. "Goddammit! Shit! Fuck!" Pope continues to slam the metal bat against items in the salvage yard, as well as the wall.

Eden watches with her mouth in the shape of an 'o'.  Out of everyone, she thought Pope handled his anger best—he was never one to do reckless shit like JJ, or to act first then think like John B.  He was calculated, and wasn't one to just start breaking shit and cursing because something went wrong.  That was more of a JJ move.

The girl slightly flinches as items come crashing down around Pope, dust flying in the air.  At some point within turning the salvage yard into his own personal rage room, he stopped cursing and just started screaming, beating up chairs and tables and whatever else happened to be in his grasp.

"We should have gotten him a rage room a while ago." Eden breathes as Pope slams the bat into a trash can, denting the metal.  She'd never seen the Heyward boy so angry before and honestly it was sort of....scary? This was a version of Pope Heyward she'd never seen before.

Kiara has wide eyes as she yells, "Pope!"

The Heyward didn't seem to hear and tossed away the bat, picking up the trash can and throwing it across the room with a yell. 

"Pope!" Kiara calls out again.

The Heyward finally seems to stop and takes a seat on a weaved couch, hyperventilating. His face scrunched up and Eden didn't need to look twice to know he was trying to keep from crying—she'd been there before.

"Pope." Eden rings softly, approaching the boy slowly so as to not alarm him.  Kiara does the same, looking around at the damage he'd done to the poor items sitting around the salvage yard.

"Yeah, dude." JJ has wide eyes, just as shocked at the boy's rare outburst as the girls were.  He crosses towards Eden and Kie, "I was wondering when this was gonna happen." Pulling out a vape pen, the blonde hands it over to Pope, "Here you go, chief.  A little weed never hurt no one."

In her usual disapproving mother tone, Eden scolded, "JJ."

"Relax, Eden." 

Kiara agreed that the weed was unnecessary, "You know he doesn't smoke."

"Well, maybe not until today." JJ shrugs, Pope taking the vape from his grasp.  As the Heyward examines the item, the Maybank takes a seat beside him, earning a look from both of the girls.

"Pope." Kiara voiced, sternly.  She could tell he was slightly hesitant, and added, "Yeah, what is that gonna help?"

Fighting back tears, Pope stammered in a dry voice, "I lost my scholarship. I walked out in the middle of the interview.  Every—it's gone. It's not gonna happen." 

Eden's face fell completely, and she offered him a sympathetic look, "Oh, Pope."

The scholarship had been Pope's one way ticket off the island, away from the OBX and to a place where he'd be recognized, and it was simply gone. All the parties he missed out on to do homework, the charities he helped and volunteer work he did, the hours spent missing sleep to write essays meant absolutely nothing now. 

And to think he'd done all of it to help John B. and his search for the gold made Eden feel worse.  He'd given up his future for the Pogues, for the chance at getting gold, and now that was nonexistent, too. 

"Pope, I'm sorry." Eden stated, solemnly. "I know that was your chance but—but there's other colleges and scholarships. We'll find another one, hell,  I'll pay for a scholarship for you—" the Bexley wanted Pope to get to college, to get out of the OBX and to a place where he was respected, and she didn't care how it happened.

Kiara interrupted, "You did that for us?"

"No, not for us." Pope corrected. Eden wasn't there for the argument, but it seemed there was still some unresolved, pent up anger between the two because of it.  The Heyward boy stood up and looked at the Carrera, "For nothing." 

JJ too got up and put an arm around the angry boy, patting his chest, "I'm here for you, Pope." The vape was against his shirt, almost like the blonde was urging him to try it, "Welcome to my world, okay?"

Kie's voice was raspy, "JJ—"

"What, Kie?" the blonde boy fired. He gestured to Pope, "He's right. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Sure, it doesn't, but smoking is our thing, J—your thing. It's how we forget about shit, not his."  Eden argued, sending JJ a knowing look.  The Bexley knew the habit was bad, and while she would be smoking a joint in this scenario, Pope shouldn't. 

Pope brought the vape up to his mouth and Kiara had a disapproving look, continuing to try and stop the Heyward, "You don't have to do that."

The Heyward pulled the vape away, a puff of smoke leaving his lips, "What do you care?"

No other argument could be made before John B. Routledge stumbled into the area, a dazed, unreadable expression on his face.

"Dude! Dude, you good?" JJ is already on his feet towards his friend, the rest of the Pogues following.

Kiara asks, "Oh my God, John B.!"

Thankful that her best friend was okay, Eden rushed over to the brunette boy and wrapped him in an embrace, "Never drive into an air tarp like that again, asshole. I thought you were going to get killed." 

John B. didn't wrap his arms around her in return. Instead, he slightly patted her on the back, almost awkwardly.

"Yo, Eden, you have something on your shirt—oh." JJ begins, though his words are cut off as he notices a crimson color staining John B.'s palms.  Eden glances down at the boy's hands, breath hitching as she noticed the red color they were stained, the same red parts of her shirt now were. 

Eden truly didn't care about the fact that she had blood on her shirt, more so the fact that her best friend was red handed himself, "John, is this yours? Are—are you hurt?"

"Whose blood is that?" Kiara asks in fear.

John B. stays completely deaf to their words. His expression was still bare, and he looked like he didn't know how he was supposed to react, or what he was supposed to say.  

"Hey, you okay man?" JJ asked.

"John B., are you okay?" 

The sound of police sirens caused all of them to jump. While the teens themselves did nothing wrong, John B. had clearly been involved with something and if he was caught red handed......nothing good was going to happen. 

So, the five teens race to hide behind some debris.  They sit quietly, waiting for the police to pass them by, which they did.

The moment the cars were gone, Eden looked at John B. with nothing but concern in her eyes.  She wanted—no, needed—to know what had just happened at the air tarp, what had gone wrong. "John, what the fuck happened? Whose blood is that?"

"It's Peterkin's." the Routledge boy mutters under his breath, voice shaky. "Sheriff Peterkin's."

"Peterkin's, okay." JJ sighs, beginning to pace back and forth. He was growing stressed, anyone could tell. "Well, what happened to the Sheriff? Why—why is her blood on your hands, exactly?"

"She was...." John B. took in a breath, ".....she was shot."

Kiara's mouth was to the floor, "Shot? Like she was shot with a gun?" When John B. slowly nodded, she girls eyes went wide, "Oh my god, is she okay? Who shot her?"

"I don't know if she's okay." John B. quietly replied.  He'd answered one of Kiara's questions, but fell silent at the other, like he didn't even want to say who'd shot the woman out loud.

Eden's stare was serious, "John B., who shot Peterkin."

"Rafe." 

The name drop caused the whole group to fall utterly quiet. 

Rafe Cameron was known to be an asshole. He held his head high and looked down on everyone other than himself because, well, he was Rafe Cameron and compared to his fancy polo shirts and shiny shoes, they were no one.  To him, Pogues were scum—trash to be taken out.

Eden knew this too well. She'd been forced into proximity with Rafe throughout her childhood, (her mother had always dreamed of her daughter becoming a Cameron herself) and his attitude was horrendous—just because his daddy paid all of his fines didn't make him king of the world.  It actually made him terribly co-dependent on the people around him, and unreliable. 

It was clear to see the Bexley had a lot of nicknames for Rafe Cameron but murderer was never on her list.

Sure, Rafe had his violent tendencies—her nose, beating up Pope and JJ, and plenty of more fights that Eden didn't even want to name—but she always assumed that was because of the way his father favorites Sarah rather than him.  Because his mother, his person, died.

She never assumed it was because he truly had murderous thoughts, because he truly needed mental help.

Looking at her friends, they all shared a similar look.

Shit was about to get bad.

Later that night, after getting the full story from John B., the group of five pulled up to the Kildare County Police Station.

Basically, after almost getting killed by the Cameron's plane, Sheriff Peterkin arrived to arrest Ward for Big John's murder.  As the man was getting arrested, Rafe showed up and shot Peterkin. They tried to call for more enforcement, but had the walkie stolen by the two Cameron men.  Peterkin told them to run, and so they did.  The last they saw her, she was bleeding out on the tarmac. 

Now, Eden thought what had happened was horrific enough—John B. had witnessed the police sheriff, the one woman who truly gave a shit about where he ended up, get shot, possibly to her death—but what made it worse is that John B. had left the Twinkie there, and had the woman's blood on his hands.

If she knew anything about Ward Cameron, it was that he would do anything to protect his family's name.  And if it took blaming a sixteen year old for the murder of a police sheriff, so fucking be it.

So, Eden wasn't all too surprised when John B. pulled into the station's parking lot—John B. needed to clear his name before it was tarnished by Ward, because who were they going to believe more? Rich, King of the island, known by all, Ward Cameron, or orphan, Pogue, troublemaker, John Booker Routledge? To the Bexley, the answer was clear.

Her friends, however, didn't seem to get it.

"John B., what are we doing at the police station?" JJ questioned from the back seat of the car, recognizing the familiar place—he'd been there too many times to count.

John B. simply replied, "Somebody's gotta tell them what happened."

He knew that Rafe nor Ward would dare reveal what happened, and would make sure Sarah wouldn't, either.  Peterkin was either dead or injured, and the Pogues had left the scene before the gun-shot rang out.  He was the only one who could tell the truth about what happened, and he wasn't going to keep in to himself.  Ward deserved to be punished, and so did his son.

Silence filled the vehicle for a few moments before it was ruined by Pope, who started coughing hysterically, a joint in his fingers—he'd switched over to it from JJ's vape a while ago, much to Eden's dismay.

"Ooh. Easy there, Chief. Damn." JJ looks over at the Heyward, waiting for him to finish his coughing fit. Once he did, the blonde boy leaned towards the front of the car, looking at John B. "Alright, I'm just gonna be real with you right now.  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 never ever trust cops, no matter what the circumstance is."

Kiara raised a brow, retorting, "Your old man's an abusive liar."

Eden sent a look towards Kie. It was too soon to mention JJ's home life or father like that—not when he still had bruises on his chest from the previous night the way he did.

"I agree with JJ." Pope voices, teeth gritted in anger, "Fuck the police."

His words cause the other four heads to turn in his direction with wide eyes, surprised he'd said something like it.  

Eden looks with a tight lipped expression, "How much weed did we give him?"

Kiara faces the boy from the driver's seat, "You goin' to the Dark Side, now?"

"When's the last time the police ever helped us?" the Heyward retorts, leaning towards the Carrera girl. 

"Peterkin looked out for me, alright?" John B. interjected firmly.  Eden knew he was right—out of everyone, she cared for him and tried to help him and his DCS situation.  "Tried too, at least."  As everyone fell quiet, he added, "They need to know." John B. then opened the car door, exiting the vehicle.  

Eden let out a sigh before doing the same, quickly walking over to her best friend.  His hair was covered in sweat and matted, dirt covered his face and his shirt, and he still had blood stained on his palms.  The Bexley couldn't feel worse.

"Knowing Ward and Rafe, they're probably trying to pin this on you.  If anything goes wrong in there, you run back to us, okay?" Eden says, firmly.  She didn't want John B. to get framed for a murder he didn't commit, especially by a man who knew the truth.  A selfish man who only cared what happened to him and his reputation. "We'll keep you hidden, make a statement, we'll do whatever we have to do to keep you safe. I'll do whatever I need to."

John B. nods, "Thank you." 

He turns towards the station and quickly rushes in.

Eden enters the car once more, stealing Pope's joint without a word for herself—she was stressed. Not only was the sheriff dead, a woman who'd believe them more than anyone else within the station, but John B. had her blood on his hands and the Cameron's voice against his.  Shit wasn't looking too good and the Bexley knew that whatever happened, her and the Pogues would be wrangled into it somehow.

The four sit in the car silently, awaiting John B. to return to the car with good news or bad news.

The latter ended up being true.

"Kie! Start the car!"

Eden's head snaps to look out the window, watching as the Routledge boy races out of the station, slamming his fist against the window of the car with a panicked expression.

"Start the car, Kie!"

The four look another, confused. 

"What? John B.!" Kie screams, looking back at the boy as he opens the back door, sliding in beside Eden, who squeezes against Pope to make room for him. "John B., what did you do!" 

"The cops!"

"Go!"

"Kie, drive, go!"

As the Carrera girl looks around panicking, Eden lunges forward and twists the key into the ignition, knowing they didn't have time to waste.  By the urgency in which the boy had returned, things hadn't gone well, and the Bexley knew that they needed to go.

A flood of officers flees from the station, one of them rushing up to the SUV.  Eden looks at Kiara and practically screams in her ear, "Kiara fucking go!"

"I'm going, I'm sorry!" Kie frantically apologizes, stepping on the gas.  Another officer comes to the vehicle, and they're hanging on to the car, slowing it down. 

"Go, Kie, go!"

"Stop the car!" an officer yells.

Another one, "Right now!"

Over the commotion, the Carrera yells. "What did you do?!"

Pope slaps John B.'s shoulder, "Open it!"

The Routledge boy does as he's told, opening the car door before slamming it quickly.  Eden cringes as she hears the officer groan in pain, but they needed to get away somehow and Kiara's driving wasn't going to do it.

The five teens silently look at one another as Kiara drives away, unsure on what had just happened.

mara's misc!

not me updating once again on my own accord. being back in school has me in a productive mood i see....(i literally procrastinate writing all day at school only to blankly stare at my computer when i get home).

happy birthday to my pookie chase stokes <3 he's really hated upon, as is john b which is like?????? i personally love john booker routledge, and chase as a person—don't even get me STARTED with him and kelsea. they are so precious. 

also, can we all thank surf-style for getting me into kelsea ballernini? i'm not much of a country gal but she managed to persuade me into listening, and now i love kelsea sm.  love is a cowboy lives rent free in my head and i blast penthouse (healed version) in my technology class.  her and chase make my heart just fkwitgilkabfhbgail.  he literally healed her.

this chapter is chill and we're finally getting into the deep shit. the last episode had me tense so, expect some tense moments????? (i'm not ready to write the finale even tho it is slowly creeping upon me. i can't do this to eden).  

hope you enjoyed <3 see you back with chapter twenty-five