𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 49.

"𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐁 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, wasn't he." Ward sighed.

"He said the words with a certain tone of disappointment, mixed with worry and anger. It wasn't a question, he already knew. I sat on the leather couch in his office, elbows perched up on my knees, and chin resting in the crevices of both palms. I bit down onto my bottom lip, so hard, that it nearly drew blood. Sarah was next to me.

The spaces in my mind were occupied with John B's face, when I jogged away from him standing there behind the bush, the tears in his eyes, and the sound of his shaky voice— along with his accusations, and suddenly vile targets. Ward, the wound on his arm, and the missing pieces of the story— the story that still wasn't making any sense. And my grandparents, who were probably sitting in their living room, worried sick, waiting for me to come home. It was a jumble of thoughts, and each one made my heart beat even faster.

Somehow, in the matter of hours, everything had shifted upside down. My world, my world of people I love, was split in two, and suddenly I was pinned right in the middle of it.

"Was he here," Ward repeated, but again, the words spilled out in a demanding form, not even close to a question. As if he just needed to hear me say it, or nod my head, or shift uncomfortably to get an answer.

"Yeah..." I huffed, not tearing my eyes away from my bare feet, the bottoms stained green from the wet grass. "He was." I said shortly.

Sarah folded her hands together, looking at me. She knew, she had seen him.

"And, and, what'd he want," Ward persisted, shifting his weight between both feet.

It was hard to look away from the ground, but soon, I peeled them away and looked towards the books along the wall, always avoiding eye contact. "To talk." I said, lowly, adding a lazy shrug. "He just needed to talk to me."

The dried tears on my face made my cheeks stiff, and made my under-eyes drop.

Ward let out a stressful breath, leaning his hand on one of the leather arm chairs, as if he could tell that I was lying. "Charlotte, don't lie to me, this is a very serious situ—"

"So then what happened on the boat," I cut him off, and finally looked up, "Don't lie to us either," I cut a glance to Sarah beside me. My voice was only rising a little bit, because my mind was racing with thoughts, and this was the only moment to get them out clearly.

"I'm not," he claimed, sounding a bit taken aback by my interruption.

"Then tell me what happened on the boat," I stood up from my spot on the couch, my back straight. "The whole truth, not just parts, everything." I tried to not make my voice crack, but the tears shooting up to my eyes was making it difficult.

In the midst of my sentence, Ward scoffed, looked away, outraged. "Charlotte!" He exclaimed, shakily. "I wanted to take the boy fishing!"

As he started, all I could think about was John B, and his side.

"You were there, you saw that, all right?" He took small steps towards Sarah and I. "And I did it because a boy needs a father figure in his life— you know that! And I was gonna—"

At this point, I was stepping away from the couch, and around the opposite end of the coffee table, my arms crossed hard over my chest.

"Look! I was gonna offer him another spot on the job!" Ward tried to explain, stressfully. "So off we go, and it was great, it really was, but then he just starts... drinking, and then,"

"John was drinking." I repeated, lowering my foggy eyes. "On your boat in the presence of an adult. He wouldn't do that—"

"And at a certain part." He cut me off, continuing with his story, this time a lot more strongly. "the boy starts accusing me of these... insane things!" he exclaimed. "And the more I try to calm him down, the angrier he gets, till finally, he attacks me!" he spat the last words out with a clear tone of anger and hatred.

I stumbled on my feet. "You're telling me that John Routledge did that to your arm," I didn't believe him, and it was evident in my voice. I looked down at the bandage wrapped around his skin.

"You don't believe this?" His voice was getting louder, and his steps towards me quickened. "Do you wanna see it again— where he stabbed me with a spear?" He was reaching for the bandage.

"John B wouldn't do that!" I shouted, feeling my vision go foggy again.

"Or do you wanna see the one on the deck of the Druthers?" He was close to screaming.

"Dad," Sarah finally spoke up, as she stood from her spot. Her voice was quiet.

"Do you wanna go out there, girls? Come on, let's go!" He yelled, aggressively pointing a hand towards the window behind him.

"Stop it!" Sarah stepped in front of us.

I didn't want to cry, but the feeling of getting yelled at caused a few small tears to skid down my cheek. The room fell quiet, as Ward rubbed a hand over his mouth and sat down on the coffee table, sighing. Sarah turned her head and looked at me.

"John B is not who you think he is." He said with a much lower voice. "Okay? I mean, if you heard the crazy things he was saying on that boat—"

"Like you killed his father." I spat.

"He told you that?" Ward immediately looked up to me after hearing those words.

"What?" Sarah narrowed her eyebrows sharply, shooting glances between the both of us.

Ward looked to his daughter. "Leave the room, please, Sarah," he ordered, calmly.

She furrowed her brows even harder, her mouth falling agape, "No— what's going on,"

"Please," he stood up, gently grabbing her shoulders, and guiding her past me towards the door. "Leave, for now."

Hesitantly, and after refusing a couple more times, Sarah was out, and the door was closed shut. With slow steps, Ward made his way back over to the coffee table, sitting down and letting out a long breath. The room was quiet.

"Take a seat, Charlotte," he suggested, with a tired voice.

"No," The word fell short, and I stayed in place by the wall of books, my feet planted.

He let out a sigh, and placed his head in both hands. "I did not kill his father." he said, and looked up.

I didn't know if the tears in his eyes were from being accused of such monstrosities, or if he was almost crying because he was close to getting caught.

"Do you realize how crazy that sounds," he scoffed. "Me."

I tapped my foot quietly on the ground, impatient. In honesty, I hadn't known Ward or his family long enough to identify if he was a killer. He could've been telling me the truth, or lying straight through his teeth, and it sent my stomach into whirls.

"I know you have feelings for John B, and I know how strong they can be," he sighed again. "Especially at your age." he almost smiled.

I swallowed, hard.

"But sweetheart— he's dangerous right now," Ward continued, now whispering lowly. "And I want you to stay away from him, and to stay here until this thing all blows over—"

"No, I'm sorry," I sniffed, preparing for my next words, as a small tear trickled past my lips. "But if this— this whole thing is just, just some," I paused, stammering, "Elaborate fuckin' way of keeping me here, forever, and, and, becoming a family like you wanted— I just can't."

"Charlotte, John B is dangerous!" he stood up, persisting. "You can't go and see him— who knows what he'll do!"

"Okay, well, I'm not really your daughter," I said with a shrug. "So, therefore, I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

Before he could say anything else, I turned on my heel and marched out the door, leaving it open behind me.

___

By the time I had woken up the next day, the sun was high up in the sky, blazing down over the water.

Sarah had not been next to me again, but this time, I sat up to see her sitting on the floor in front of the bed, folding clothes and stacking them neatly in a suitcase. Almost immediately, I had asked her what she was packing for.

The cameron's were going to the Bahamas. It wasn't just the abruptness of it, the last minutes planning of the trip, or the sudden urge that caused me to grow confused. It was the fact that only Sarah and her dad were going. No mentions of Wheezie, Rafe, or even Rose. Sarah had explained in small detail, that her father brought the trip upon her just that morning, the morning after John B had broken in, and she didn't know how long they'd be gone for. It didn't sit right. Nonetheless, I had helped Sarah pack her things.

The only thing I knew for sure, was that I was going to get to see John B, and finally talk. From the moment I learned they would be leaving for a few days, I was only looking forward to seeing him— to talk about everything. Sarah made it clear that I could stay at TannyHill with her family if I needed to.

"I'll call you, okay," Sarah now stood in front of me, our feet on the runway.

"Yeah," I gave her a soft smile, pulling my lips up.

I couldn't quite figure out how she was feeling. She was excited to go to the Bahamas— anyone would be— but at the same time, she was puzzled just like the rest of us, and felt guilty for leaving. She had asked me multiple times if I wanted to go with her. On any normal day, I would have said yes, of course, but it wasn't a normal day. I still had my grandparents at home, and I couldn't just leave the Pogues and dip to the Bahamas for weeks.

"I don't know if I want to do this," Sarah tugged her bottom lip to the side, glancing back at her dad who called on workers and men carrying boxes. "I mean, like, it's so sudden,"

"It is sudden," I nodded, "But maybe your dad just needs to... get away. For some time," I suggested, truly having no confidence in what I was telling her. "You know, you'll probably be back soon."

"I don't know," she looked down at the floor.

"Don't worry, dude," I leaned forward, and gently wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her in tightly, "I'll be here and I'll update you on everything," I whispered the last part, referring to the gold.

"Okay," she sniffed on my shoulder, before pulling away after a few moments. "Call me, please," she lightly laughed.

"C'mon guys lets get this stuff loaded!" Ward directed the workers. "Let's go,"

"I think I have everything," Sarah was saying, "I'm pretty sure I do," she looked into the open trunk of her car right next to us. "God, there's so much shit."

She continued to talk, skimming over everything she had packed and saying items out loud for clarification, but I was drowning her voice out. My eyebrows then narrowed, as I looked away from her and towards the workers. There were many men, carrying large crates on machines, lifting them up into the plane as Ward conducted them.

"Bikini... shorts..." Sarah was using her fingers to count. "Charlie, am I missing something? I feel like I am,"

I could barely hear the last part of her sentence, for I was newly breaking away from the conversation, and heading towards the plane.

"What's in those boxes?" I asked, sort of urgently, when I got close enough to Ward.

He swivelled around with his hands on his hips, his mouth slightly open as if surprised, "Uh," he cleared his throat, "Just some, uh, decorative marble pieces that Rose found," he told, "For properties down there. Antiques, I think." He kept glancing back to the crates being lifted. He was lying. It was a stretch, but I hoped that the crates weren't filled with what I thought.

"That's done, close it up!" One of the men announced.

My brows furrowed even harder, and I skipped around the other end of the plane, shoving my hair behind my ears. I spotted a man, walking over to one of the many white vans.

"Excuse me— hi," I called for him, waving my hand in the air. "What's in those crates?" I pointed to the plane.

"Charlie?" Sarah's voice sounded from around the bend.

The man scoffed mockingly, and then turned away without giving an answer.

I let my jaw fall, "Hey! Excuse me—"

"Come on, Charlotte," Ward cut me off by placing a hand on my shoulder, and turning me around to face the other direction.

"I'm just asking questions," I defended, wiggling away from his grasp.

"Charlie, what's happening," Sarah asked, confused, as she walked towards us.

"Please, just get on the plane," Ward ordered to his daughter, motioning towards the open entrance next to us. "We have to get going."

"I— I don't think I wanna go anymore," she looked to me with wary eyes.

"Sarah." Ward scoffed loudly, "Please, on the plane, now."

Sarah bit down on to her bottom lip in debate, her foot tapping on the ground repeatedly. Quickly, she gave me another hug, whispered a small goodbye, and then she was stepping up the stairs, turning around to wave sadly.

I waited until she was out of sight to turn on my heel, in hopes of heading back to their car to retrieve my bicycle, and soon bike home. But Ward called out to me.

"C'mon, Charlotte, on the plane." he said, with a demanding voice.

I barely took a step away before I halted in place, swivelling my head back around.

He jerked his head towards the entrance Sarah had gone in. "Let's go,"

"But I'm not coming," I almost laughed, shifting my eyes around awkwardly.

"Get on this plane, I'm only asking you one more time." He said with aggression, meaning it.

I looked at his face for a second, the smile slowly dropping from my lips. "But I'm not coming," I repeated, this time more serious. "I'll see you guys soon," I said, uncomfortably, "I have to go home—"

"On the plane, now," he ordered again, taking a few small steps towards me. "Do not cause a scene."

I narrowed my eyebrows, sort of trying to hold in a laugh as I turned away. "Nice try, but I don't think so. See you when you get b—"

My words were cut off when two arms wrapped around my body, immediately picking me up off the ground. Instantly I sharply inhaled in a gasp, quickly feeling pain from the tight grip. Ward was stepping towards the plane, lifting me towards it.

"What the hell, Ward!" I screamed, loudly. "Let go of me!"

The smallness of my hands were no use when trying to pry his arms off of my body in the air, but my legs did a perfect job at kicking the spaces in front of us, and kicking at his legs repeatedly. I squirmed harder in every direction when the stairs came into view right before my eyes— my eyes in which were almost entirely covered over from fallen hair strands. Soon, there were tears brewing at the brims of them, ready to fall, when I couldn't break free.

He shoved me to sit in one of the chairs in the back, holding me down as he strapped the seatbelt over. I cried, screaming words at him the whole time, my shoulders hurting from being pushed down too hard. I kicked at his legs.

"Charlie— what the hell!" Sarah was shouting from the front, upon seeing me in the back, with tears streaming down my face. "Dad wha—"

Her father grabbed her shoulders like he did mine, when she tried to climb back and see me, pushing her into the seat aggressively. Her head hit against the window, not dangerously hard, and he strapped the seatbelt over her as well.

The second her head made contact with the window, it was almost as if every assumption in my mind was cured. Everything thing I was wondering about Ward, was revealing itself, in a series of dangerous events. Suddenly, as I sat in the back, my eyes shut with pain, and he started the engine, I knew he was wrong all along. His story was bullshit— and now I was heading to the Bahamas because of it, without even getting to say a goodbye to my grandparents, or the Pogues.

While the plane turned, ready to head-start on the runway, I quietly sobbed in the backseat. I thought about undoing my seatbelt, opening the door and stepping out of the plane, but it was far too late, and I could've landed myself dead. Sarah was crying in the front seat, glancing back to me only once, to share the same glance. We were both thinking the exact same thing.

All of a sudden, right as I finally came to terms with the fact that I wasn't getting out of Ward's scheme, Sarah heaved loudly.

"Charlie— it's him, it's John B, it's his—" she stammered, through breaths.

Ward put his hand over her mouth to shut her up, causing her voice to become muffled. But I didn't need to hear the rest of her sentence, I had already heard his name.

I didn't believe her until I saw the dirty brown van drive up past her window, faster than I'd ever seen it go before.

It felt as though the weight of the world was no longer on my shoulders, and I could finally breathe again when I saw his pink sweater behind the window.

Sarah tried to reach for the handles in the control panel of the plane, to slow us down, but Ward stopped her. Again, she was shoved against the window, this time harder, and causing a loud bang to echo through the space. She sobbed even harder from the hit.

"You fucking psychopath!" I screamed at Ward.

John B was driving far in front of us now, and I didn't quite know what he was going to do, until he did it.

He did the unthinkable, the impossible, the kind of thing you only see in movies— the van abruptly turned, it's tires screeching against the runway, so hard that a rim slipped from it's bolts, and rolled off somewhere on the pavement.

Every ounce of happiness and relief spilled from my body when the realization came in, that we were going to hit him if Ward didn't somehow stop the plane. Immediately tears shot to my eyes, and I yelled for him to stop repeatedly, louder than I'd ever yelled anything before, my throat scratching as I screamed at the top of my lungs.

It was as if the world stopped for a moment when he pulled a handle, meters away from the van.

But before I knew it, the plane was unexplainably stopping, the tires scraping against the pavement so loud, I could feel it in my ears. One of the crates hit against the back of my chair, sending me forward, and causing a sharp pain to scatter on my neck. I didn't care about the pain, I was already unbuckling my seat belt.

"John B!" I screamed through sobs, right after I figured out a way to kick the door open.

I practically jumped off all of the stairs, looking up to see him.

As if I didn't fell anything before, now, once seeing him standing there in front of me, I was safe. I felt a hand grip onto my wrist as I jumped out, but I wiggled away before Ward could stop me again. I ran right for John B.

"Oh my god," I breathed through tears, instantly wrapping my arms around his neck. My heart skipped beats when he hugged back, tighter than ever before.

"What're you trying to do— get us killed! You wanna get her killed!" Ward yelled, as he hopped out of the plane.

I ignored the man as I placed my hands on the sides of John B's face, tears falling from my eyes. "You're okay," I whispered, "Oh my god, you're okay,"

Ward grabbed my arm, "C'mon Charlotte—"

"Don't touch me!" I yelled. "You maniac." the words came out harshly.

John B held me close to him, my body pressed against his, as Ward stumbled back. Sarah jumped out of the plane, with wet tears on her face, moving in front of her father. While carefully watching Ward, I hugged her quickly but tightly, and John B followed my actions, keeping both of us with him.

"Come on, Sarah," Ward shouted. "Get back in the damn plane!"

"Don't tell me what to do," she spat, through hooded eyes.

Suddenly, a sound of sirens echoed on the runway, coming right in our direction. I gasped.

"You have to go— John B, you have to leave right n—" I reached up behind me to grab his shoulders. But he was staying in place.

As we all stood there, breathless and panting, Sheriff Peterkin stepped out of her cop car, charging straight for Ward. "Put your hands on your head." She ordered with a low-toned voice, really meaning it.

Ward let out a laugh, turning around to face us, "I'd do what she said, kid," he grinned at John.

The sheriff pulled out her gun. It was pointed at the back of Ward's head.

"She's talking to you, Ward," John B muttered.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Big John Routledge." The sheriff said, with strong words.

I grabbed Sarah's hand as she gasped and almost fell against me with shock, tears instantly brewing at her eyes.

"Oh my god—" I breathed out, shakily. John B had been right the whole time.

"Are you kidding me, Sue!" Ward yelled.

The sheriff ordered him again, and soon enough, Ward was down on his knees, with his hands being handcuffed. Before she could get his second hand in, he shoved the woman off of him, causing her to pull out her gun again, pointing it.

John B grabbed my hand tightly.

And then, there was a gunshot.

Sarah inhaled sharply, at the thought of it being her dad. But it wasn't from Perterkin's gun.

The heart in my chest fell to the floor when a patch of blood grew on the sheriff's uniform, and Rafe Cameron game around the end of the plane, with a gun in his hand.

✰༄✰

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐭

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 :/

𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭

𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢

𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 🙈

𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭

𝐧 𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐳

THIS IS CRAZY THE BOOK IS

NEARLY FINISHED!!!

𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 !!