𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞 || jj 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

014

PULLING UP TO THE LIMBREYS HUGE house, the pogues and I stare at it in awe. The house is ginormous— far bigger than any of the mansions back on Figure Eight. "Yeah, they're a bunch of fancy people. They've had, like, three governors in the family. They've run Charleston for, like, three hundred years." My sister informs as Pope puts the car in park, taking the keys out of the ignition with a sigh.

"These kooks make our kooks look like pogues." JJ observes with an impressed look, his eyes scanning every inch of the house that's visible from our spot in the truck. His blonde hair is tucked into his cap, a few loose strands hanging out, emphasizing his sun-kissed features. I shake away my admiration, mentally cursing myself for allowing me to get lost in the boy's beauty during an important moment.

"Yeah, don't let Topper hear you say that." I let out a laugh, knowing the boy would have a total heart attack if he heard that anyone could top his parent's earnings. "Are you sure we're at the right place, dude? Not to sure if we should go in there..." I motion towards the house— which is more like gigantic building— that's oddly dark and radiates a weird energy. I may be dramatic but the mansion looks anything but welcoming.

Pope swings his door open with a nervous expression. "Pretty sure." I hear him mutter as I clamber out of the truck, trailing behind Kie and JJ. I was getting uncomfortable after sitting in the truck for so long, but now I would much rather sit in the car and let my butt get sore than have to talk to the person that lives in that house.

I know that judging someone based off of their house is not morally right, nor have I ever done it before, but the sight of huge fences with sharp spikes certainly isn't the kind of house that a kind person would be living in.

"Twenty seven, King Street." Pope reads, holding up the letter and reading off the address, his eyes flickering over to the address printed on a sign hanging from the fence.

My eyes are locked on the spikes atop of the fence, my brows knitted and my anxiety picking up. "Home security seems pretty aggressive." I nervously murmur, a wave of dread washing over my body and engulfing my senses.

"Are those spikes to keep people out?" JJ quizzes, following my gaze.

My sister shakes her head sadly, "No."

"Slaves quarters were over there." Pope points towards the backyard beyond the slightly terrifying fence. "These spikes were to keep people in." His words make my heart drop. The least the owners of this house could do was replace the fence. Why keep it up after its disturbing history? No idea.

Wearily, we all walk into the yard and towards the front door. Pope gives us all a nervous look and I nudge him forward with a nod. "You do it, bro. I don't want to touch their door." My voice is seeping with fear and uneasiness.

Pope gives me a light shove back before taking a step forward, grabbing onto the old-fashioned 'doorbell' before slamming it against the surface of the door three times. The loud noise makes me want to flinch, but I stand still, not wanting to seem like a baby. The Heyward boy takes a step back, resuming his original spot. "Think that was too much?" He asks, nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Yeah, it's echoed the entire house so they definitely heard it that's for sure." JJ raises his brows, a light-heartedness coating his tone, to which I let out a snicker.

"The ground shook beneath me, that's how loud it—" I add onto the joke, but before I can finish, the door swings open, a gruff looking man now standing in front of us. I clamp my mouth shut, shifting nervously as I look down at my hands.

"You must be Pope." The guy creepily smiles, his eyes moving to get good looks at the four of us. His tone is low, deep and somewhat condescending, though he didn't say anything rude. I can tell by the glint in his eyes— which I can't quite pinpoint— that there's something weird about him.