P4L | Outer Banks | JJ Maybank

This Girl Ain't Made For Jail

Her ass was starting to hurt. She had been sitting for too long. Her eyes wandered around the office, eventually landing on the door that popped open.

Sheriff Peterkin walked in. She sighed.

"Delia," she sighed.

"It's Cory," she corrected.

"Cory," she fixed. "That boy has pulled you too far under."

Cory looked away as Peterkin sat down across from her.

"You cannot let him keep bringing you down–"

"He's not bringing me down," she snapped. "I chose this."

Peterkin examined Cory. "You're telling me his voice wasn't in your ear the whole time."

"Well," she stared straight at Peterkin, unwavering. "My ear was underwater for most of it."

Peterkin pursed her lips, opening the file before her.

"Trespass on protected habitat," she read off. "Felony destruction of property."

Cory was silent. She did those things, it was true. She wasn't gonna deny that now.

"Cory," Peterkin's voice softened. "This can't become who you are. Don't become JJ."

"JJ isn't such a bad thing to be," Cory snapped.

Peterkin raised an eyebrow. "Now Cory. Look at your sister–"

"Don't talk about my sister," Cory yanked against the handcuffs.

"And now look at you," Peterkin finished. Cory sank back into her chair. "Your sister is getting married. She's gonna have a good life. And you're 16 and sitting in my office."

"I have a good life," Cory mumbled.

"A life of crime?" Peterkin asked.

"I have my friends," Cory added. "I don't need a Kook husband."

Peterkin was silent as she pulled out a few pieces of paper, changing the topic.

They were mug shots that she laid out on the table. It was the men who had shot at the Pogues that day on the marsh.

"You know these two?" Peterkin asked. Cory was silent, staring at them. "My question was, do you know these two?"

"They..." Cory thought for a moment. "They broke into John B's house," she admitted. "And... then they chased us through the marsh, other than that, I have no idea."

"Here's a more recent photo," Peterkin said, placing down two more pictures. Cory glanced down, seeing the two men's dead bodies, covered in wounds. "Somebody gaffed them, then used them for chum. Whatcha think, bull shark?" Cory's face contorted. "Heres the bad new, doll. Whoever killed these two men is still out there, and I got a reason to believe their next target is a friend of yours. John B. You kids don't think you're the only ones after the Royal Merchant now, do you?" Cory glanced up at her. "And yeah. I know about that, too."

Cory gulped.

"Look, Sheriff," she started. "I promise you he's not on it anymore–"

"So you say," she interrupted. "I'm just tryin' to keep him safe. I want you to tell John B to come in and talk to me. And let's see if we can get you home," Peterkin angrily said, leaving the room and slamming the door behind her.

She sat in a cell for a few more hours until the door finally opened. An officer stepped inside, gesturing for her to follow.