Ain't Shady Baby, I'm Hot

81

Shoupe rounded the desk to peer at the wound as Ward kept talking.

"So I'm trying to take care of this. He runs off. He steals my Jet Ski. He's out there God knows where." I let Shoupe get a closer look, his eyes calculating as he took in the hole.

"This guy's dangerous. I'm worried about my family. I'm worried about my daughter. They had some kind of thing. He's..." he trailed off looking at me as I wrapped up the wound. I kept my emotions as neutral as possible.

"Let's write it up. In the meantime, you go home. We'll find him." Peterkin spoke calmly, looking at Shoupe then Ward.

"Thank you." I gently sealed the last edge of the wrap as Ward gave my hand a pat. "And thank you, Xena."

I nodded. Not trusting myself to speak. Who knows what unfiltered thing might escape.

Shoupe escorted him out as I sat back, pulling the gloves from my hands. Peterkin had stood up and watched Ward leave through the office window.

My eyes darting from her to the closed door.

"It's a half-truth." I spoke, cleaning up the first aid supplies. "Ward's story."

"And how do you suppose that?" She'd kept her head to the window as she stared out.

"First off. The wound on his arm couldn't have had much force into it. Ward's rich, he'd have the best spear gun money could buy. All the worthwhile spear guns have a powerful kick, should have shot clean through his skin into bone, maybe even fracturing it." I explained my thoughts, jotting down some notes on the paper. "So however he got that, it wasn't from John B shooting him."

Peterkin turned, her arms crossed as she gestured for me to go on.

"Second, John B is a major hot head. I wouldn't put it past him to start an argument. But he's smart enough to know that if he touched a hair on Ward's head he'd be screwed. I believe there was an argument. And I believe that John B stole his Jet Ski. But there's more to the story than what Ward gave us." I clicked my pen twice. The noise deafening as I leaned back in the chair.

"I know we just started my internship today. And I get that this case might be considered 'too personal' but John B is one of my best friends. If he really did this there had to be something more behind it. But I don't think he did. And I'd like to find out."

"You're right." My head cocked, waiting to see what she'd say. "This case would be considered 'personal' and it would be pushed to another officer. But in a small town where everyone knows everyone there's some wiggle room. You're also just an intern and it's your first day." I sank backwards realizing this wasn't going in my favor.

"I think it's possible Ward was telling a half-truth. Here's the catch. Ward is this shining light for the people in Outer Banks, and your buddy, John B, is at the bottom of the totem pole. You'd have to have some extremely good evidence to make such a claim." I caught on as she came to sit back down behind her desk. Her eyes not leaving mine.

"You should probably get going." I nodded, packing my notebook into my backpack as I stood lifting it onto my shoulder.

"Sheriff," my hand rested over the door handle a pause following, "why'd you let me sit in just now knowing how close I am to John B?"

"You're an intern aren't you? Sitting in on investigations is part of the job description." I nodded catching the wave of something as it crossed her eyes. Another message I would have to work on translating.

"I'll be back tomorrow."

"Take care now."

_______•*•*•*•_______

I had driven myself to John B's house. Knowing if he was back on the island he'd come here. It was empty. The sun beginning to set, but I waited.

The group text was silent as it had been throughout the last two days. But now the silence was consuming. I'd sat on the dock, watching the sun as it set.

The pure peace that surrounded me battled the howling thoughts inside my mind.

The sky was aglow in pinks and pastels, shining light of sun beams reflected on the water like a path to a better tomorrow. The water tapped gently against the wooden beams, a rhythmic sound letting me quiet my mind. The cooling breeze wrapped around me in a hug attempting to soothe my conflict.

I leaned my head against a beam as a sigh filled the air. The buzzing of insects reaching my ears mimicking the chaos in my mind.

We'd found the gold.

I was shot.

We'd been held at gun point.

I threatened one of Maurice's drug dealers.

We'd been accomplice to robbing the same drug dealer.

I pretty much got kicked out of the gym until I situated my priorities.

We'd been threatened by that same drug dealer through Rafe.

I kissed Rafe. I'd fully made out with him.

We hate Rafe. He was a menace to the Pogues.

B, I won't let Kooks hurt this group. I mean it.

I enjoyed the thrill. I'd do it again even if it meant betting with my heart.

I don't like Rafe. Never have, never will. I will always choose my friends over him.

I couldn't do that to them. My friends. I couldn't just toss them aside for a flame that could easily burn me.

But that temptation. That infatuation. It was addicting. Rafe and I are the two that can never be. And maybe that's why it was so intoxicating. So alluring.

"So terrifying." I whisper sharing my secret with the water. I was terrified of myself. Terrified that I'd make one wrong move and life would checkmate me before I could even blink.

But that's life. Taking those risks. Doing things that set your soul alight. Things that give you purpose. Things you're passionate about.

Passion.

Rarely anyone finds that thing so fast. And sometimes that thing gets ripped from people without so much as a goodbye.

I didn't know what my passion was. Not anymore. I thought it was fighting. But now I'm not quite so sure.