Me and the Devil

36.

The dock comes into view as my feet pound against the worn path, my heartbeat hammering in time with my racing thoughts. Sunlight glints off the water, casting a golden glow over everything, making it all feel deceptively calm like the eye of a storm before it tears everything apart.

Ahead, Kiara sits on the edge of the dock, her feet skimming the surface of the water. John B leans lazily against one of the railings, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. JJ is slouched on a cooler, a joint in hand, his face tipped toward the sky like he’s soaking up every ounce of the sunlight.

They look untouched by the chaos, oblivious to the shift that’s about to rip through all of us.

“Guys!”

Pope’s voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and urgent. I twist just in time to see him sprinting into view from the opposite direction, his dress shirt untucked, tie hanging loosely around his neck. He looks completely out of place like that - disheveled, breathless, and wired with adrenaline, but something about it makes the moment feel even more real.

He knows.

And I know.

I break into a run, reaching the dock at the same time he does. For a split second, we lock eyes, and the pieces fall into place. This is it.

“Guys!” Pope shouts again, louder this time.

Kiara twists around, startled. John B’s gaze snaps toward us, cigarette forgotten. JJ exhales a long stream of smoke, lazily pushing his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose.

“The hell is this?” JJ mutters, unimpressed but intrigued.

Pope and I stumble to a stop, panting, words colliding in the scramble to explain.

“Ward,” I start, my voice uneven from the sprint. “Ward’s plane.”

Kiara frowns, swinging her legs back onto the dock. “What about it?”

Pope leans forward, bracing his hands on his knees. “Before my interview, Heyward mentioned something about Cameron needing more room for takeoff. Said they were cutting palms because the plane was too heavy.”

“And what could be so heavy that it needs extra room to get off the ground?” I blurt, the answer already clawing at my throat.

Silence settles between us, heavy with realization.

John B straightens, his eyes dark with understanding. The cigarette slips from his fingers, rolling off the dock and into the water.

“The gold,” he says.

JJ whistles low, tipping his sunglasses down just enough to meet my gaze. “Son of a bitch.”

“The gold,” Kiara repeats, the words carrying weight, like they’re anchoring us all back together.

For a moment, none of us speak. It’s like we’re standing at the edge of something too big to comprehend the betrayal, the grief, the fury simmering beneath our skin. But then John B moves, pushing off the railing, jaw set with something dangerously close to hope.

“We’re going after it,” he says, and there’s no room for argument.

Kiara nods, fire lighting her features. “Damn right we are.”

JJ grins, flicking the last of his joint into the water. “Guess it’s time to remind Ward Cameron who he’s dealing with.”

A soft laugh escapes Pope, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time in what feels like forever. “Guess I didn’t need that interview anyway.”

I step forward, my gaze flickering between them. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly, my voice breaking. “For everything. For Rafe, for doubting you guys, for—”

“Save it,” JJ interrupts, but there’s no bite in his tone. He steps closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “We don’t have time for a therapy session. We’ve got a plane to catch.”

For a second, I see something raw in his gaze an unspoken understanding, a forgiveness I didn’t think I deserved.
John B claps his hands, the sound breaking the moment. “Alright, Pogues. Let’s get moving.”

We pile onto the Twinkie, the urgency electric in the air. The doubt still lingers beneath the surface, but for now, it’s held back by purpose.

For the first time in days, I feel like I belong again.

For the first time in days, I feel like I’ve finally proven myself.

But there’s something about this moment about the way the sun dips just below the horizon, casting everything in that eerie, golden light that makes my stomach twist.

Like the calm before the storm.