DROWN YOUR DEMONS | "i've loved you since we were children, i just didn't realise it until now."
Toby McAllister was just like any other troubled teen. With a sharp toungue and glare that could cut glass, few dared to see past the sarcastic remarks...
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If Toby had known that getting her hands on a hundred million dollars meant spending every waking minute with JJ's friends, she would've bailed the day her weed got stolen.
Well, maybe that was a bit dramatic. She wasn't stupid enough to walk away from that kind of money. She'd probably check herself into a mental institution before she gave up a fortune like that. Still though, her point stood: she hadn't realised just how much socialising was involved in hunting for lost shipwrecks and gold.
She just didn't fit into the group's dynamic. At least, that's what she thought. When it was just her and Pope working for his dad, it was fine — strictly business, she was only there for the pay check. When it was her, JJ, and John B, she could sit back, letting the boys fill the space with their banter. But anything beyond that felt...off. She didn't think she'd ever been alone in a room with Kiara before, and she rarely spoke in group settings unless she was cutting in on an ongoing conversation.
She was like an extra puzzle piece, part of the picture but never quite fitting in.
But she'd endure it. Once she was rolling in money she could go back to seeing them once, maybe twice a week, just to keep JJ happy. Everything would all go back to normal.
Not that it would stop her from complaining in the meantime.
"I really don't see why you need me to be here for this." She wined from the back of the twinkie, rubbing her tired eyes.
"We've been over this, T. No participation. No money." JJ turned from the front seat, his tone a mixture of exasperation and amusement.
Toby huffed and crossed her arms. She had planned to do absolutely nothing that day, or maybe, if she felt motivated enough, figure out a way to pay Barry back. Instead, JJ had dragged her off John B's couch literally kicking and screaming. He'd only got her into the van by bribing her with a morning joint — he knew she couldn't resist those.
"But—"
"No buts."
Grumbling, Toby let her head fall against the window, glaring at the pristine neighbourhood John B drove them through. They were headed to one of the many fancy hotels the Figure eight offered, ready to use JJ's job to their advantage. The north side of the island looked as though a hurricane never hit, still posing as the perfect paradise with its manicured lawns and debris-free streets. Toby wondered if the tourons knew that it was the people from the cut that were responsible for maintaining their little utopia. She wondered if they knew the cut existed at all.
When they arrived, Toby remained sprawled in the back seat, sliding down as far as possible, hoping they'd forget about her long enough for a quick nap. Pope climbed out, and Kiara moved forward, neither sparing her a glance as they focused on the task ahead. Toby stretched out fully when the back of the van was vacant, her body sinking into the backmost seat.
