not a chance • jj maybank

f o u r

PAISLY ROUTLEDGE

Gripping onto JJ's shoulders and on the verge of tears as I glance over at Pope and Kie. They were pretending to have a normal conversation. I hear the blinds open, making JJ's grip get even tighter.

We stay as close to the wall as we can. I stop breathing in fear they might hear me even though it's not even possible.

Once the coast is clear, John B struggles to open the widow but eventually does. JJ lifted me by the waist and placed me inside the motel room. He climbs in once he sees I'm safe.

"That was too fucking close." John B states, checking the front window.

"JJ what the fuck were you thinking grabbing the gun?" I shout at the blonde, a single tear escapes my eye.

"I'm so sorry, Paisly." He says, engulfing me into a hug. As before, I am surrounded by his musky, woodsy scent.

"Let's get out of here." John B says before opening the door and storming off.

"I told you not to get the gun." My voice cracks. JJ finally lets go of the hug, but rests his hands on my forearms.

"Paisly, I promise you I wont ever put you in that type of situation again. I pinky promise." He holds up his pink. After a second of debating on if I should trust him or not, I link my pinky with his.

"Okay, let's go. This place sketches me out." I shiver.

• • •

"Could have warned us sooner." JJ says, standing in the front of the boat. John B was driving, Pope was standing next to him, and Kie was sitting on the other side of John B.

"We would've, except Pope was on the math team." Kie grumbled.

"Did you guys find anything?" Pope asked.

"Did we find anything? No, I don't think so. Oh, yeah, we did." JJ holds up the gun and a wad of cash. John B looks proud of him, however I was upset.

"What the hell? Why take that from a crime scene? I'm gonna lose my merit scholarship." Pope starts stressing out.

"Hey, hey, hey. Sh, sh, sh. sh, sh." JJ tried calming him down. "At least you have us, right?"

"I'm living a nightmare." Pope groans.

• • •

I had the group drop me off at the chateau, not wanted to socialize anymore. Told them I was tired and wanted to take a nap. When in reality, I was overwhelmed by todays events.

I went into my room and laid down on my bed. After a while, I ended up falling asleep. Slept for a few hours but was woken up by the voice of Pope.

"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too." He says.

I roll off my bed and went out to see where they were. All four of them were on my porch talking about something.

"This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas." John B explained, pacing around the porch.

"What happened?" I asked the group. They all look at me in sync.

"The man who owns the Grady-White is Scooter Grubs, he's dead." Kie informed me.

"We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had
more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden,
he's got a Grady-White? Just sayin'." John B shrugs.