「 ✦  TROUBLE ✦ 」

────

MJ SWUNG THE DOOR to the Château open, her boots scuffing the wooden floor as she stepped inside. She barely had time to take in the sight of JJ and John B pacing like madmen before they both spun around to face her. Their expressions were a mix of panic and anger, and JJ's hair looked like he'd been running his hands through it nonstop.

"Where the hell were you?" JJ barked, storming toward her. "Do you have any idea what's been going on here?"

MJ raised an eyebrow, already defensive. "Nice to see you too, JJ. I went for a walk. Didn't know I needed to file a report every time I step out."

John B stepped in, his tone sharp but less hostile. "You didn't just step out, MJ. Rafe and Barry were here—at the house.

"You're telling me you just went for a walk?" JJ spat, stepping closer, his frustration boiling over. "While these guys are pulling up here, ready to start who-knows-what kind of trouble? You can't just disappear like that!"

"Okay, first of all," MJ snapped, stepping up to JJ, "you don't get to yell at me like I'm some kid who missed curfew. Second, I didn't know Rafe and Barry were gonna show up here! How the hell is that my fault?"

John B stepped between them, holding up his hands. "Both of you, stop. We need to figure out what's going on. MJ, think. Has Rafe said anything to you recently? Or Barry? Anything that would explain this?"

MJ hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. "Not... really." 

She left out the part about Kenyon—for now. She wasn't sure it was connected, and she didn't want to stir the pot without good reason.

JJ threw up his hands. "Great. So we're just supposed to sit here and wait for them to come back? What's the plan, MJ? You gonna charm your way out of it like you always do?"

MJ rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure, JJ. I'll just bake them some cookies and ask nicely. Because that's worked so well before."

"Guys!" John B shouted, his voice cutting through their bickering. "Focus. This isn't just about you. If Rafe and Barry think they can show up here whenever they want, none of us are safe. We need to figure out why they're looking for you, MJ. And fast."

MJ exhaled, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the wall. She didn't want to admit it, but John B was right. Rafe and Barry didn't just drop by for casual visits. If they were looking for her, it wasn't good.

"Fine," she said finally, her tone softer but still defensive. "I'll figure it out. But I'm telling you, I don't know anything. I haven't done anything."

JJ scoffed. "Yeah, because you're such a saint."

"JJ—" John B started, but MJ cut him off.

"You know what, JJ?" MJ snapped, stepping forward and jabbing a finger at his chest. "Maybe if you weren't so busy being pissed at me, you'd actually be useful for once. Instead of, oh, I don't know, pacing in circles and yelling at me."

JJ glared at her, his jaw tightening, but he didn't say anything. For once, it seemed like he knew better than to push her further.

John B sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Both of you need to chill. We'll figure this out, but not if we're at each other's throats. MJ, if you hear anything, you tell us. No more disappearing acts. Got it?"

MJ nodded, though the fire in her eyes hadn't fully dimmed. "Got it."

JJ muttered something under his breath, and MJ shot him a glare. But before either of them could escalate again, John B clapped his hands together.

"Alright," he said, his voice firm. "We stick together. No more surprises. Whatever Rafe and Barry want, we'll handle it. Together."

"Hey, guys! Don't tie up!" JJ yelled, sprinting down the dock like his life depended on it.

MJ trailed after him, shoving branches out of her way and muttering under her breath. By the time she reached the clearing, she looked more annoyed than panicked. "What he said!" she added, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Apparently, tying up is illegal now."

Kie blinked, already halfway through securing the boat. "What's going on? Why does everyone look like they've just seen a ghost?"

"We're dipping!" JJ called back, jumping onto the boat without waiting for a full explanation.

Kie's brows furrowed. "Wait—what? Dipping? What are you talking about?"

"Rafe knows where we are!" John B shouted as he helped Sarah hobble down the dock. His arm was wrapped protectively around her waist, her face pale and tense from pain.

Pope glanced between the group, trying to piece together the chaos. "Wait, where did you guys go? What happened last night?"

"Slept on the break," JJ replied with zero sincerity. His tone was sharp as he moved to grab the duffel bag John B tossed to him. "What's it look like? We were up all night figuring out how not to die. What about you?"

"Rafe knows we're here, and he's probably already planning his next move," Sarah added, her voice tight as she tried to keep her composure.

"Awesome," MJ muttered. "Because nothing says 'relaxing getaway' like being hunted by a homicidal maniac."

"Can you please take this seriously for, like, two seconds?" JJ snapped, turning to glare at her.

"I am taking it seriously, JJ," MJ shot back, climbing onto the boat. "I'm just not screaming and throwing things about it like some people."

"You're the one who is sleeping with—"

"You're sleeping with my brother?" Sarah screamed.

"Guys!" John B cut in, his voice sharp enough to make both of them pause. "Not the time."

MJ rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut. JJ muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like typical MJ.

"Come on, Sarah," John B said, turning his attention back to her. "We've gotta move."

Before John B could help her, Sarah was scooped up bridal style by Pope. She gave him a weak but grateful smile, her grip tightening around his neck as he carefully stepped onto the boat and eased her onto a seat.

Kie finally climbed aboard, looking more confused than ever. "So, what's the plan here? We just...run? Again?"

"Yup," JJ said, shoving the duffel bag into the corner and hopping onto the edge of the boat. "We run. And we don't stop until we're so far out, even Rafe's creepy little posse couldn't find us with a GPS."

MJ sat down and leaned back, her arms crossed as she stared at her twin. "Great. Because this has gone so well every other time we've done it."

JJ glared at her. "If you've got a better idea, genius, now's the time to share it."

"I'd rather not," she shot back. "Watching you flail around like a headless chicken is way more entertaining."

John B groaned, running a hand down his face. "Can we please just focus? Everyone, sit down, shut up, and let's get out of here."

As the boat roared to life, MJ cast a quick glance back at the shoreline, her pulse racing. The knowledge that Rafe knew where they were wasn't just unsettling—it was a ticking time bomb. A flicker of guilt twisted in her chest, though she shoved it down like she always did. She couldn't ignore the storm brewing on the horizon, but she also couldn't untangle herself from the web she and Rafe had spun. This wasn't just about their group anymore; it was about secrets, danger, and choices she wasn't sure she was ready to face.

────

JJ steered the boat through the marsh, finally pulling up near a patch of land safely away from Figure 8. The group gathered at the bank, huddling together to discuss their next move.

"Look, if Rafe and Barry know, it's only a matter of time," Kie pointed out grimly.

"Before everybody knows," Pope finished, casting a glance around the group.

JJ was pacing in tight circles, his agitation palpable. "I told you! We should've gone south. Why does nobody ever listen to me, huh?!" He threw his hands in the air like the solution had been obvious all along.

"JJ, just stop!" John B snapped, his frustration bubbling over. "We get it, okay? We all get it."

MJ, sitting cross-legged on a nearby log, rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, genius idea, JJ. Let's just 'go south.' You got gas money stashed somewhere I don't know about?"

JJ glared at her but didn't respond. Pope stifled a laugh.

"I have an idea," Sarah interrupted, her voice cracking slightly as she stepped forward. "With me back, my dad's going to have to choose between me and Rafe."

Everyone went quiet, their heads swivelling toward her as if she'd just suggested cartwheeling into a pit of alligators.

John B frowned. "Sarah..."

"No, listen to me!" Sarah cut him off, holding up a hand. "He's going to choose me. He always does."

"Ward keeps lying to you, Sarah," John B said, his voice softening now.

"And after everything that's happened? He's not going to agree to anything," Kie added, her tone firm but sympathetic.

"I know it sounds crazy, okay?" Sarah admitted, lowering her gaze. "But he's my dad. I know him. He loves me. I just... I just need two hours."

MJ leaned back, arms crossed, and let out a low whistle. "Bold move. Can't say I'd trust him farther than I can throw him, though."

Sarah shot her a look, and MJ sighed, softening a bit. "But if you think that'll work, I'll back you. Go ahead. Charm your way into the lion's den." She gave Sarah a lopsided smile.

"Thanks, MJ," Sarah said quietly, her voice tinged with relief.

JJ threw his arms up, turning to the group. "Seriously? You're all just gonna let her walk into that death trap?" He shot MJ a particularly exasperated look. "Come on, are we pretending Ward Cameron's suddenly a reasonable guy now?"

"Cool it, J," MJ shot back. "She's not asking for your approval. She's just asking for two hours." She gave him a pointed look, daring him to keep arguing.

Sarah stood, still frowning at the lack of full support, but MJ quickly moved to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "You've got this," MJ said, giving her a firm squeeze.

"Thanks," Sarah said with a small nod, her voice shaky.

John B stepped forward, conflicted but clearly trying to trust Sarah's instincts. "Sarah..."

"I'll get the boat," Sarah said quickly, avoiding his gaze as she headed toward the dock.

JJ sidled up behind MJ and draped an arm around her shoulders in an exaggerated, almost theatrical motion. "Guess we're just winging it, huh? No backup plan? Nothing?"

MJ clasped her hands together dramatically, locking her fingers over JJ's and shaking her head. "Oh, don't worry. If everything goes to hell, I'm sure you'll come up with another flawless plan, Einstein. Like 'go south.'"

JJ snorted, giving her a light shove. "Bite me, MJ."

"Already did, bro," she quipped, smirking. "I'll go with Sarah." Her voice was steady, but inside, she was already making plans. She knew she couldn't let this opportunity slip away. She had to say goodbye to Rafe. She needed to see him one more time.

The group looked at her, surprised by her sudden agreement.

John B frowned, clearly not convinced. "MJ, are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," she said, though her mind was already elsewhere. "I can help Sarah with whatever she needs."

With a small nod from the others, Sarah and MJ walked toward the boat. As the group began to disperse, JJ pulled Kie close, his arms around her. Kie leaned into him, her fingers brushing his. "She's got this," she whispered, though her eyes followed Sarah and MJ as they climbed into the boat.

But as the boat drifted away, MJ's thoughts were far from the task at hand. She was supposed to be helping Sarah, but her real plan was to sneak away to say goodbye to Rafe. Her heart ached at the thought of walking away from him, especially when everything was falling apart. She couldn't leave without seeing him one last time.

The night had fallen quiet, the hum of the house around her barely audible as MJ crept through the hallways of the Cameron estate. She had told Sarah she was just coming to help, but in truth, she had one destination on her mind—the room that had both tortured and captivated her for so long. Rafe's room.

Her heart pounded as she reached his door. Her hand hovered over the doorknob, a hesitant breath escaping her lips. She knew this was dangerous, knew the risks involved, but she couldn't leave without seeing him. Not like this.

She pushed the door open slowly, wincing as the hinges creaked softly. The room inside was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon outside, casting shadows on the walls. She stepped inside, her footsteps light, careful not to disturb the silence.

Rafe's figure was slumped on his bed, one arm draped lazily over his eyes, the other resting on his chest. His breathing was steady, but even in the quiet, she could feel the tension radiating off him. She had to do this. It had been too long since they'd been in the same space like this, and the thought of walking away without saying anything—without touching him one last time—was unbearable.

The door clicked shut softly behind her, and Rafe stirred, his body tensing before he lowered his arm. His eyes flickered open, a flash of recognition crossing his face before his lips parted in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered, his voice low, raspy with sleep.

MJ's pulse quickened, but she stood her ground, her eyes locking with his. "I needed to see you," she said softly, her words hanging between them. "One last time."

Rafe pushed himself up on his elbows, his gaze shifting between confusion and something deeper, darker. He knew why she was here—he had to know. But the moment was too fragile to break with words.

"You can't be seen with me, Rosemary," he murmured, his voice tightening as he swung his legs off the bed, stepping closer to her. "You shouldn't be here."

But she shook her head, her fingers reaching out to lightly brush against his chest, her touch sending a shiver through both of them. "I don't care about that right now," she replied, her voice breaking slightly. "I just... I need to feel you. I need this."

Rafe's hands found her waist, pulling her toward him in a single motion, his body warm and solid against hers. He didn't need to ask; he didn't need her to say anything more. They both knew this was the last time.

She tilted her head up, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was slow and aching, filled with everything they'd never been able to say. The kiss deepened, desperate, hungry, as if they both knew that this was their final moment. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, the heat between them building, raw and consuming.

"Don't go," Rafe breathed against her lips, his voice hoarse with the emotion he couldn't keep hidden any longer. His hands traced the curve of her back, pressing her even closer. "Please don't leave me, Rosemary."

She felt the weight of his words, but the ache in her chest told her she had to be strong, even if it tore her apart. "I have to," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't stay. It's too dangerous for both of us."

Rafe's expression flickered with frustration, and anger, but also something else—something vulnerable. He pulled away just enough to look at her, his forehead resting against hers. "Then why are you here?" he asked softly, his breath mingling with hers. "Why come back if you're just going to leave?"

"Because I need to remember you like this," MJ replied, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, memorizing the feeling of him beneath her fingertips. "I need to hold onto this... this last moment with you. I don't want to forget how it felt to be with you. How it felt to be... loved."

Rafe's eyes softened, his chest tightening as if her words had broken something inside him. "You don't have to say goodbye, you can stay with me," he whispered desperately. "We can figure this out. I always do."

She shook her head, her throat tightening as tears threatened to fall. "I wish I could believe that," she whispered, but she couldn't. It wasn't just about them anymore; it was about everything else. The danger. The lies. The secrets. "But I can't."

Rafe looked as though he was about to say something else, but MJ pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him. "This is it, Rafe. This is all we can have."

And with that, she kissed him one last time, pouring everything she had into it—her love, her regrets, and her heart. The kiss was everything they never had a chance to say, everything they couldn't be.

When they pulled apart, it was with the painful understanding that there was no going back. She gave him one last lingering look, before turning and slipping out of the room, leaving Rafe standing there in the silence, the weight of everything they'd shared settling heavily in the space between them.

MJ's hand was already on the door handle, her heart breaking as she prepared to leave Rafe behind. The weight of the moment was crushing, the finality of it gnawing at her. She had promised herself she wouldn't look back, but as she stood there, the silence of the room pressing in on her, she couldn't bring herself to walk away without one last piece of herself to give.

Her breath hitched, and before she could stop herself, she turned on her heel and rushed back to him. Rafe hadn't moved, still standing by the bed, watching her with a mix of confusion and something else—something raw, something that mirrored the storm inside her.

"Wait," she gasped, her chest heaving with emotion as she closed the distance between them in a few quick steps.

Rafe's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could speak, MJ's hands cupped his face, pulling him down to her level. Her lips crashed into his with desperate urgency, as if this kiss could change everything as if this was the one thing she could hold onto.

The kiss was more than just a goodbye—it was everything. It was all the moments they never had the chance to live, all the words left unspoken, all the love they couldn't fully express in the chaos they lived. Her hands threaded through his hair, pulling him closer, needing him like air, like she couldn't breathe without him.

Rafe's hands found her waist again, his body pressing against hers as if he, too, couldn't bear to let go. The kiss deepened, feverish, and for a moment, the outside world didn't matter. There was no danger, no secrets—just them, lost in each other.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them gasping for air, MJ's forehead rested against his, her hands still trembling as they slid down to his chest. She could feel his heart racing beneath her fingertips, mirroring her own.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, thick with emotion. "I love you, Rafe. I always have. I just... I can't stay. I can't be with you like this."

Rafe's eyes searched hers, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths—desperation, disbelief, pain—but there was love, too. His hands moved to her face, his thumb brushing over her lips as if he couldn't believe she had said it.

"Don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "We can fix this, Rosemary. We can figure it out."

Her heart shattered as she shook her head, tears threatening to spill over. "I wish I could, but I can't. I've already said too much, and given you too much. This... us... it's too dangerous. I need you to be safe, Rafe. I need to be safe."

He stepped back, his hands falling to his sides as he let out a shaky breath. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't get it?" His voice cracked, and he stepped forward again, his fingers lightly grazing her arm. "I need you, Rosemary. I don't know how to let you go."

She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, but the tears came anyway. "I don't know either," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "But I have to."

She kissed him once more, quick and soft, the final whisper of a promise she couldn't keep. When she pulled away this time, she didn't look back.

With her heart in pieces, she left the room, leaving Rafe standing there, his hand reaching out to her retreating form as if he could stop her. But she was already gone, disappearing into the shadows of the house, knowing that this was the end.

The door clicked shut behind her, and the house seemed to hold its breath as if the world itself knew that something had irrevocably changed.

The boat sliced through the water, the steady hum of the engine filling the space between Sarah and MJ, who sat side by side in silence. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, casting an amber glow over the water as the boat rocked gently with the waves.

Sarah kept her gaze fixed on the horizon, her hands gripping the edge of the boat as her thoughts swirled in the quiet. Her plan had failed—her father had chosen Rafe, just like she'd feared—and now she wasn't sure where she stood, not just with him, but with herself.

Beside her, MJ sat with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable as she watched Sarah. The weight of the moment was heavy, thick with the kind of tension that only comes from too many unspoken words.

They didn't speak. The silence felt endless, stretching between them like an invisible wall.

Finally, Sarah broke it, her voice barely rising above the sound of the boat's engine. "I don't know what I was thinking, MJ. I thought—" She stopped herself, biting her lip as if she didn't know how to finish the sentence.

MJ turned her head toward Sarah, her brow furrowed as she quietly listened. She didn't interrupt. She'd learned by now that Sarah needed space to process things on her own.

"I thought maybe I could fix it, you know?" Sarah continued, her voice cracking slightly as she spoke. "But it's always been the same. I'm never the one he chooses."

MJ glanced at her, the frustration and pain in Sarah's voice echoing in her chest. She knew exactly how that felt—the constant tug-of-war with family, the feeling of always being second best.

"Sarah," MJ said softly, her tone unusually tender. "You don't have to fix everything. Not for them."

Sarah let out a breath, glancing over at MJ but not quite meeting her eyes. "It's not just about them. It's about me. I feel like... I don't even know who I am anymore. I keep trying to please people, trying to make things right, but it always blows up in my face."

MJ's heart ached for her. She reached out, her hand brushing Sarah's arm in a rare moment of intimacy. "You don't have to please anyone but yourself. It's okay to let go of trying to fix things."

Sarah looked at MJ, her gaze softening, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she leaned back against the seat, her eyes turning back to the horizon. They both sat in silence again, but it was a quieter kind of silence. One that wasn't as heavy.

The boat crept closer to shore, and MJ could sense the change in Sarah, the way she seemed a little lighter like the weight of her family's expectations had shifted, even if just slightly.

Finally, Sarah exhaled, her voice barely audible. "I don't know what to do next, MJ."

MJ gave a small, understanding nod. "You'll figure it out. You always do."

For a moment, neither of them spoke again. The wind tousled their hair, and the sounds of the boat slowed as they neared the dock. Sarah may not have had all the answers yet, but in that moment, MJ felt like they both understood each other a little better.

────

The sirens were unmistakable, their shrill wail slicing through the tense air. The group froze, instinctively ducking for cover as the sound of police boats grew louder. Pope grabbed MJ's arm, pulling her back into the group, but she barely noticed. Her mind was still swirling with the memory of Rafe's kiss, of that moment of intimacy they shared. But there was no time for that now. The sirens meant trouble, and the Pogues weren't about to go down without a fight.

"Did they follow you here?" John B's voice broke through the haze, his hand reaching out for Sarah, pulling her behind him as he scanned the horizon. His eyes were filled with concern, but Sarah was too busy glancing over her shoulder at the approaching law enforcement.

MJ stood tall, her jaw clenched in defiance. She wasn't about to let this break her focus. She'd seen worse—been through worse. This? This was nothing.

Without hesitation, JJ's hand plunged into his bag, fingers wrapping around the handle of a gun. "If they want a fight, they're gonna get one," he growled, but there was a calm in his voice that MJ couldn't ignore.

"They must've been tipped off," Pope muttered, looking nervously toward the group. But MJ wasn't nervous. Hell, she wasn't even worried. She was pissed. This was the last straw.

"They followed you, not me," she shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm as she shot a glance at Sarah. "Couldn't even keep your own family from tracking you?"

John B's eyes snapped to her, a flash of surprise crossing his face before he quickly masked it. He was used to MJ's sharp tongue, but that didn't mean he didn't still try to keep the peace.

"Stay on the ground, hands where we can see them," the voice of an SBI agent boomed through a megaphone, cold and commanding.

"Oh, real original," MJ muttered, rolling her eyes. "What, they think we're gonna lay down and cry now?"

JJ's gaze flicked to her, the intensity of the situation momentarily lost on him as he chuckled at her defiance. "You're crazy, you know that, right?"

"Tell me something I don't know," MJ retorted, barely looking at him. The urgency of the moment was real, but it wasn't going to rattle her. Not now.

"Go. Run," Silas shouted, pushing Pope and Kie ahead, though MJ didn't even give him a second glance. She didn't need anyone's permission. She'd fight if she had to.

But before anyone could move, the shout of "Go!" rang out again, and Sarah was already darting into the marsh, leaving John B, JJ, and MJ to follow in her wake. River, too, was quick to move, but MJ was always a few steps ahead.

The water was thick, muddy, and smelled of the salt and damp earth of the marsh. JJ and John B were already making their way through the thick swamp, but MJ? She wasn't phased.

"I swear to God if I get mud in my shoes..." MJ muttered, but it was more to herself than anyone else. The sound of police chatter echoed around them, and she knew it was getting worse.

When they finally found a little bit of cover, JJ muttered under his breath, frustration clear in his voice. "We're trapped. We're gonna have to make a stand."

MJ didn't flinch. "And here I was thinking I'd get to go down like a badass, not a sitting duck."

John B shook his head but grabbed MJ's arm, pulling her close as the situation got more heated. "Just keep your head down, okay?" he said, his voice low.

But MJ wasn't having it. "No promises," she shot back, eyes narrowing as she looked around, assessing their options. "I'm not just gonna sit here and wait for the cops to grab us."

As the SBI agents began pushing forward, River stepped up, grabbing JJ's arm and pulling him closer. "I love you, J," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. The words were soft but heavy.

"Love you, too, Rosie Jane," he said, voice steady but filled with emotion.

John B, always the protector, walked over to the pair. He could see the storm brewing inside JJ and could feel the urgency of the situation. "We're not doing this," he said firmly, grabbing JJ's gun and tossing it into the bushes, covering it with leaves.

MJ watched, her eyes flicking between the group. It was clear they were all in this together—through thick and thin. But as John B calmed JJ, MJ's thoughts drifted again to Rafe. The kiss, the words left unsaid—it all rushed back like a wave.

Shoupe's voice cut through the air again. "John B. Step out into the clearing," he shouted, a calm tone masking the threat underneath.

John B didn't hesitate. With his hands up, he stepped into the clearing. "I'm here to talk," he called out, trying to de-escalate the situation.

MJ's hand tightened around her phone, ready for anything. The familiar anxiety started creeping in, but she pushed it down. No time for weakness. She wasn't going to let them win.

The moment Shoupe grabbed John B and slammed him into the ground, MJ's blood boiled. "Don't you dare," she muttered, stepping forward before another officer tackled her to the ground.

"You think you can keep me down?" she spat, trying to shove the officer off. The fear in her chest was quickly replaced by pure, unfiltered rage. If she had to take them all on alone, so be it. "You should've stayed the hell away from us," she snarled, as she fought to get back on her feet.

MJ's heart pounded in her chest as the cop pinned her down, his heavy weight pressing against her as she struggled beneath him. Every muscle in her body screamed to move, to fight back, to get out. She wasn't about to let anyone—least of all some trigger-happy cop—get the upper hand.

"Get off me!" she hissed, thrashing beneath the officer, her body writhing to break free. Her hands flailed, trying to land a punch, but the cop grabbed her wrists, twisting them painfully behind her back.

"Calm down, girl," the officer growled, his voice low and condescending. "You're only making this harder on yourself."

MJ's eyes blazed with fury. "Harder? You really think this is hard?" She kicked her legs up, aiming for his midsection, trying to knock him off balance. She could feel his grip loosening for just a second, enough for her to get one knee under her and push herself halfway up. But the cop reacted quickly, slamming her back down with more force.

"Stay down!" he shouted, his voice now laced with irritation.

But MJ was relentless. She wasn't about to give in, not while her friends were out there, not while everything she'd worked for was on the line. "I'm not staying anywhere!" she snapped, digging her heels into the mud beneath her. She brought her knees up to her chest and shoved backward, using every bit of strength to ram the cop of her.

For a split second, it worked. He staggered backward, and in that moment of freedom, MJ scrambled to her feet, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

The officer lunged at her, but she ducked under his grasp, twisting her body to the side. "Nice try," she muttered, landing a sharp elbow on his ribs as she spun around. Her movements were fast, calculated, fueled by adrenaline and the overwhelming need to escape.

Another officer approached, and MJ quickly assessed her options. There were too many of them. She needed a weapon, something to level the playing field. Her eyes scanned the area—nothing. She was on her own.

────

MJ sat on the cold bench of the holding cell, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her gaze fixed on the floor. Her heart still raced from the chaos of the past few hours, but there was no escaping the reality of the situation now. She was stuck, again, with no way out.

Her outreach worker, Sandra, paced in front of her, her steps heavy and filled with disappointment. Her jaw was clenched tight, and her voice had that unmistakable edge of frustration. "MJ, do you have any idea what you've just done?" She stopped in front of her, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. "You were just cleared of being a murder suspect, and now? You're assaulting a cop. What were you thinking?"

MJ didn't flinch, didn't look up. She was used to this by now—the lectures, the disappointment. She almost preferred it to the silence. "I wasn't thinking," she said flatly, her voice lacking the usual bite. "I was fighting for my friends. It's what I do."

Sandra exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "You think this is some kind of hero moment? You're lucky you weren't shot. Hell, you're lucky they didn't press charges on that cop for brutality—he could've. And after all the trouble you've caused with that family, you're just adding more fuel to the fire."

MJ scoffed, finally looking up at her. "Oh, so now I'm the one in trouble for fighting back? Please. They're the ones who came at me first. If you want me to sit back and watch them hurt my people, then you're wasting your time."

Sandra rubbed her temples, exasperated. "I'm not telling you to sit back and do nothing, MJ. But you can't just charge in, guns blazing, every time things get tough. You've been running from consequences your whole life, and you know what? You can't outrun this one. It's catching up to you."

MJ's lips curled into a small, bitter smile. "Running? I'm not running from anything. I'm just making my own choices. If you want someone to blame, then blame the people who put me in this position."

Sandra leaned forward, her tone softening just a bit. "I get it, alright? You're tough, you're angry. But you're also smart. Smarter than this. You know you can't keep fighting everyone. At some point, you'll end up alone. Is that what you want?"

She didn't answer immediately. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Sandra was right, of course. She had been alone most of her life. The fight—fighting for survival, for loyalty, for love—had always been easier than the quiet spaces in between.

But this time, something was different. Something had shifted. And despite the mess she'd made, despite the wreckage she'd left in her wake, she wasn't backing down.

"I'm not going to let anyone walk all over me," she finally said, her voice quieter now, but still fierce. "Not this time. You don't know what it's like, Sandra. You don't know what I've had to deal with."

Sandra sighed, her gaze softening for a moment ass he watched her. "No, I don't. But I've seen enough to know that you're capable of so much more than this. You don't have to be reckless to be strong, MJ. You just have to be smart."

She leaned back against the cold wall, exhaling deeply. "I'll be smart when it matters."

Sandra shook her head, but there was no more fire in her eyes. Only exhaustion. "You're making this harder on yourself. You've got a chance to turn this around, MJ. But if you keep going down this road, you're going to end up in deeper trouble than you can handle."

MJ didn't respond. There was nothing more to say. She knew what she had to do. But right now, with everything swirling around her, the only thing she could focus on was getting out of this mess.

"I'll take the consequences," she finally said, her voice steady. "But I'm not sorry. I'm just doing what I have to do."

Sandra didn't argue, her shoulders slumping. "I just hope you don't regret it later."

Her expression hardened, and she stood up straight, her tone shifting to something more professional, but still laced with concern. "Listen, MJ. I'm legally required to call your dad about this. I don't like it any more than you do, but that's how it works. He needs to know what's going on, and I need to know if you're safe."

MJ's jaw tightened at the mention of her father's name, her body instinctively tensing. Her mind raced, her heart hammering in her chest. The last thing she needed was for Luke Maybank to get involved—not now, not when she was trying so hard to carve out her path. It felt like every time she tried to take control, someone else swooped in to pull the strings.

"I'm not talking to him," she said flatly, her voice steely. "Don't bother calling him."

Sandra raised an eyebrow, her gaze softening but still firm. "MJ, I get that you don't want him involved, but if something's going on—"

"I said no," she snapped, cutting him off. "I'm not answering to him, and I'm not answering to you. This is my life, not some family reunion."

Her words hung in the air, thick with defiance, and for a brief moment, Sandra seemed to weigh the options. She knew she wasn't the easiest to handle—hell, she'd been difficult from the start. But there was something in the way she refused to bend, the way she resisted any form of authority that made her pause. It wasn't just rebellion. There was real hurt behind her walls, a hurt that made her push away anyone who might try to help.

"Alright," Sandra said after a beat, her voice quieter now. "But you're making it harder for yourself. You can push people away all you want, but eventually, you're going to need someone on your side. And I'm not sure how much longer I can stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

MJ shot her a glare that could cut glass, her chin lifted in that stubborn, defiant way that always got her into trouble. "I don't need anyone. I can handle myself just fine."

Sandra sighed again, rubbing the back of her neck. "I hope you believe that, MJ. I really do. But right now, you've got to trust me when I say that the choices you're making aren't leading you down the road you think they are."

MJ turned her back to her, her arms crossed tighter against her chest, refusing to acknowledge the weight of her words. She was done talking.

────

The door to the holding cell creaked open, and MJ's eyes narrowed instinctively, her back stiffening as she spotted Luke Maybank standing in the hallway. His presence felt like a storm rolling in, all tension and barely controlled fury. He was standing with his arms crossed, glaring at them both as they were led out of the holding area.

JJ, looking worn but relieved, shot a glance at MJ. She couldn't help but notice the way his jaw tightened. This was going to be bad. Really bad.

Luke's eyes flicked from MJ to JJ as they walked toward him, his expression thunderous. When the officer handed over their belongings, Luke's eyes locked onto MJ, and the quiet simmer of anger in him was palpable.

"Let's go," Luke growled, his voice like gravel as he turned on his heel and headed toward the exit.

The twins exchanged a brief look, but neither of them spoke. They were too used to this routine—being dragged out of situations they never asked for, always dealing with the aftermath of Luke's anger. The drive to the car was eerily silent, the tension hanging thick in the air, and MJ could already feel the storm brewing inside her dad.

Once they were all seated in the car, the engine roared to life, and Luke's grip on the wheel tightened. His knuckles were white, and for a moment, MJ thought the car might shake from the force of it.

It didn't take long for the explosion to come.

"You two are unbelievable," Luke barked, his voice filled with raw rage. He whipped his head toward MJ, eyes blazing. "I should've let them lock you up. You're lucky you're not still sitting in that cell!"

MJ kept her gaze forward, her lips pressed together tightly, fists clenched in her lap. She wasn't going to let him see her crack. Not again. Not when she'd just spent hours fighting with Sandra, fighting with herself. She didn't need to listen to Luke right now.

JJ, on the other hand, wasn't as successful in keeping his cool. He leaned forward, his voice sharp. "Dad, give it a rest. We're out. You don't need to drag this out."

Luke's eyes snapped to him, and without warning, he slapped the steering wheel so hard that the entire car jolted. "Don't tell me to 'give it a rest,' boy! You've been nothing but a damn liability! And you, MJ," he turned on her, venom in his words, "What the hell were you thinking? Assaulting a cop? Getting in trouble with the law again? Do you even care about what you're doing to this family?"

The words stung more than she expected. It was like a slap to the face, cold and brutal. But she wasn't going to show it. She couldn't.

"I don't care about your family, Luke," she shot back, her voice hard and steady. "You don't get to control me. Not anymore."

"Shut your damn mouth!" Luke roared, his voice rising, his face turning red with fury. "You don't get to talk to me like that! I'm still your father, and I'm trying to keep you out of prison, but you're hell-bent on self-destructing! You think you can keep getting away with this shit, huh?"

He slammed his fist into the dashboard, causing both MJ and JJ to jump slightly in their seats.

"You're both so damn ungrateful!" Luke's voice was hoarse now, his anger reaching a boiling point. "I gave up everything for you two, and this is how you repay me? Like I'm some damn punching bag?"

The car veered slightly as Luke jerked the wheel, his fury making him reckless behind the wheel.

"I'm not going to keep bailing you out. Do you hear me? Do you think I want to spend every damn day fixing your messes? You think I'm your damn saviour?"

MJ could feel her pulse in her ears, blood rushing as the tension suffocated her. Her mind raced, and for a moment, it was like she could feel the weight of everything she'd been holding back—the anger, the frustration, the years of resentment. But she bit it back. The last thing she wanted was to get caught in this cycle again.

"Pull over," MJ said coldly, her voice surprisingly calm despite the storm brewing inside her.

Luke glanced at her, his expression twisted in disbelief. "What? Do you want to run off again? You think that's gonna fix anything?"

"No," MJ snapped. "I want you to stop acting like we owe you everything. You can scream and shout all you want, but I'm done listening."

Luke's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles almost glowing white as the car sped through the streets. The silence that followed was almost more suffocating than the yelling, and MJ kept her gaze fixed on the window, refusing to engage further. This wasn't worth it. Not today.

Luke muttered something under his breath, shaking his head, but didn't say anything more. The storm inside him was still there, just waiting to break loose again. And MJ knew—she knew she wasn't out of the woods yet.

────

authors note:

guess what!

the next chapter is being uploaded now

and its smut :)