*ೃ༄GET THE GOLD, J. M 1

50

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗜𝗙𝗧𝗬
𝙨𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨.

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗗 𝗝𝗢𝗛𝗡 𝗕'𝗦 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗗, 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗢 not bombard him with questions as they drove.

Luna had stolen her mother's truck, her smaller one wouldn't have done the job, she was completely clueless that things were way worse then she had actually thought.

"John B, what are we doing at the police station?" JJ raised his brows in question, exiting out of the backseat as they approached the station.

"Somebody's gotta tell them what happened." He responded lowly, his voice on the verge of breaking as he gulped.

Pope had begun to cough rapidly, squeezing his eyes shut as his body had started to badly react to the laced blunt he had smoked, JJ patted his back harshly.

"Easy there, chief." His hand smacked against his back, "All right. 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 should never ever trust cops, no matter what the circumstance is."

Luna was quick to shoot back at the rambling blonde, "Your old man's an abusive liar."

"I agree with JJ." Pope blurted, recovering from his near death experience as he leaned against the boy, "Fuck the police."

"You goin' to the dark side now?" Luna chuckled, forcing herself to glanced away from him as she looked over at her brother, "When's the last time the police helped us?"

"Peterkin looked out for me, all right?" He shook his head slowly, "Tried to, at least. They need to know."

John B had nervously walked into the police station, accompanied by Luna as they rest of the friends had waited for them outside.

"Uh... excuse me, ma'am." He cleared his throat, attempting to get her attention as she frantically typed on her computer.

She had just glanced up from her screen, giving him a quick once over a she sighed, "This is not a good time, kid. Adam, advise if you need air tran."

"I know who shot the sheriff." He informed, watching as her body language stiffed.

She nodded, "You stay put. I'll get a deputy."

"Central, three Vick. We have a suspect in our 31.
John Routledge. Sixteen-year-old white male. Six foot. Last seen wearing board shorts, a "Bad Brains" T-shirt, and a faded red hoodie." Shoupe's voice had blared over her walkie talkie.

Luna had become frozen, a small gasp escaping her lips as she glanced wearily at her brother.

"Just... breathe. All right? Let me see your hands." The deputy cooed, gripping onto his gun as he ordered John B.

"John B, do what he says." The officer slowly approached the teenager, keeping their steps at a turtle like pace.

John Booker Routledge wasn't a stupid boy, but right now he had felt like the worlds stupidest person to exist. How did this fall on him?

He didn't have time to think, his feet working faster than his brain as he jetted towards the station doors, screaming for Kiara to start the car as the group of officers followed behind them quickly.

Luna was behind him, throwing herself into the backseat, her chest rising up and down as the car was quickly turned on.

"John B? What did you do?" Luna asked, her eyes wide as she had slumped into the backseat, the truck speeding forwards as the tires screeched.

"It wasn't me. It wasn't me." He repeated, shutting his eyes, "Rafe shot Peterkin."

Kiara had kept her eyes glued to the roads, ignoring the sirens behind her as she focused on getting them into the clear, she didn't question, maybe it was because her mind was a unfinished puzzle.

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