CASTAWAY ⚓ R.C, J.M

N I N E

The Limbrey estate loomed over the Heyward truck, three visible floors of pure Charleston beauty. To Harley it was a house of horrors surrounded in a daunting and nauseating air. Kiara, JJ and Harley sat on the roadside staring at the home whilst they waited for Pope to return. They had parked up five minutes ago and Pope had been gone for two, long enough to let Harley spiral into a skin dampening anxiety that made her stomach somersault endlessly.

"I think I'm going to puke... swallow it down then puke again," she murmured in dismay, grossed out at her own words. She couldn't help it, her mind kept flicking back to Renfield. When she bumped into him after escaping the Cameron's she almost died on the spot once she realised who he was. Frankie had been there to protect her; he wasn't here now. "I didn't even bring my epilepsy meds. I'm going to die."

If she didn't die of consternation then Renfield would pop out and she'd die of shock. She wanted to hop in front of the wheel and drive a million miles away, but she wouldn't in fear of letting down the group.

She wanted John B back just as much as the rest of the group, but this felt too overwhelming. Her thoughts tried to reason that she didn't have to be there because John B hated her guts. He didn't want her around, that's what he had said. Yet, she couldn't help the guilt of using his words to chicken out. She was better than this, she'd do anything to protect her friends just like JJ. She had stood up to Rafe for Pope. She argued with literally anyone who spoke down to JJ in her presence. She had doubled her hate for Sarah in the name of Kie. She had jumped into this dangerous adventure to find millions in gold to help John B grieve their dad. And here she was dying at the thought of seeing her estranged aunt and step uncle.

JJ pulled a pack of pills out of his bag and showed Harley her medication. "I keep a spare." A soft shade of pink softened Harley's sight as she stared at JJ. He stared back nonchalantly as though the gesture wasn't the sweetest thing that had Harley's heart calming and then skipping with glee. "You're not going to die and I'd like it if you didn't throw up in your mouth. I don't like the taste of sick, surprisingly." His eyes sparkled with sarcasm amidst the concern.

Naturally, Harley's rebuttal rolled off the tongue, "I don't know. You ate mouldy bread pretty convincingly that one time."

JJ's eyes narrowed, not expecting that. He had a response in seconds but they were interrupted by a knock on the window. All of the teens startled but relaxed once they noticed Pope.

Harley wound down the window once she realised Pope wasn't getting into the vehicle.

"What's the matter, Pope?" Kiara questioned.

The answer received adamant protests from the three in the truck. Harley's presence had been requested with the threat that if she didn't go Renfield would come out and escort her himself. Maybe it wasn't a threat but it still sounded like one which led to her trudging into the Limbrey home with her guard sky high. She paid no mind to the way Pope led them in and to the tea room off to the right. All of her senses were tuned into everything she couldn't see.

"You came," Carla Limbrey's light, up-market voice floated to Harley. The girl's eyes briefly snapped to the woman sat in an antiquated, plush chair. The entire home and decor screamed old money and it was clear Pope could see that as he scanned the space and saw the worn, gold frame photos and plethora of useless vases and outdated tapestry. "It's good to see you, Charlie. I know your father wouldn't like it, but we are family."

A set of crutches propped against the arm of Carla's chair hinted that her aunt had not been getting any better. She had been ill for as long as she could remember with serious ebbs and flows to her health. Albeit the crutches she looked relatively fine. Fine enough that Harley didn't feel bad about the blank stare she had.