「 ✦BARRACUDA MIKE✦ 」

────

JOHN B LET OUT A LOW WHISTLE, shaking his head as he watched MJ stroll back to Rafe, her confidence radiating like the sun overhead. "Damn, she's really leaned into the whole Kook Queen thing," he muttered under his breath, earning a pointed look from Sarah.

Kiara scoffed, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. "That's not the MJ we knew. She's just... one of them now." Her words dripped with disappointment, her gaze lingering on how MJ laughed at something Rafe said, completely at ease in her new world.

JJ stood a few steps away, his board tucked under his arm, his jaw tight as he refused to look directly at the couple. "She's still a Maybank," he muttered, his voice low and raw. The words were meant for himself more than anyone else, like a reminder he didn't want to hear. He stared at the waves crashing on the shore, his fingers digging into the waxed edge of his board.

Sarah hesitated, glancing between them. "People change," she offered softly, though even she didn't sound entirely convinced.

JJ let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face the group. "Yeah, well, I guess some people change for the worse." He shook his head, the hurt in his eyes barely concealed before he turned and walked toward the water, leaving the rest in awkward silence.

John B broke the silence first, unable to keep the question from spilling out. "So, JJ... what do you think about all this?" He motioned vaguely toward MJ and Rafe, now lounging on their towels with an air of smug satisfaction. "You know, her moving in with Rafe, buying a house together, and now..." He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the engagement ring that glinted in the sunlight.

Kiara raised an eyebrow, her voice sharp with disbelief. "Yeah, JJ. She's what? Playing house with the guy who made all of our lives hell? And you're just cool with it?"

JJ didn't look at them, his eyes locked on the waves as if he could drown out the conversation with the ocean's rhythm. "It's her life," he muttered, his tone flat.

Kiara didn't have it. She stepped closer, her arms crossed. "That's it? That's all you've got to say? She's your sister, JJ. And she's with Rafe Cameron. The guy's a psycho, and you know it."

JJ's grip on his surfboard tightened, his knuckles turning white. "What do you want me to say, Kie?" he snapped, finally turning to face her. His blue eyes burned with a mix of frustration and hurt. "That I'm thrilled she's playing house with the guy? That I'm over the moon about her shacking up with someone who's got more skeletons in his closet than a damn Halloween store? Fine. You want the truth? It pisses me off. It pisses me off that she left. It pisses me off that she picked him. But what the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

John B frowned, his voice calmer but no less curious. "Doesn't it bother you? Like... what happened to the MJ who was all about us? About the Pogues?"

JJ laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "That MJ doesn't exist anymore, man. She made her choice. Does she want the big house, the fancy ring, the Kook life? Fine. Let her have it. But don't expect me to sit around and pretend like it doesn't suck to watch her forget where she came from."

Sarah, who had been silent until now, spoke up hesitantly. "She hasn't forgotten, JJ. I think she's just... trying to find her place. Even if it's not what we wanted for her."

JJ's jaw tightened, his voice dropping to a cold edge. "Yeah, well, her place sure as hell isn't with us anymore. Not when she's playing the part of Mrs. Rafe Cameron." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the water, leaving the group in uneasy silence as they exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond to the raw emotion he'd just laid bare.

MJ leaned back on the towel, the sun warming her skin as she glanced sideways at Rafe, who was scrolling through his phone, a satisfied smirk still plastered on his face.

"Feeling proud of yourself?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe snorted, not bothering to look up. "Why wouldn't I be? You put her in her place. That was brutal, babe." He finally turned to her, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

MJ rolled her eyes, adjusting her sunglasses. "You'd deserve it if you did."

He chuckled, reaching over to trace a lazy finger along the back of her hand. "Good thing I'm perfect, then."

Before MJ could respond, her phone buzzed beside her, drawing her attention. She picked it up, frowning at the notification. A text from an unknown number popped up:

Unknown Number:

Enjoying the sunshine, Maybank? Be careful—it doesn't last forever.

Her stomach twisted as she read it again, her fingers gripping the phone tighter. She didn't need to guess who it was. Hollis.

MJ's face must have given something away because Rafe leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "What's that?"

She quickly locked the screen, shaking her head. "Nothing. Just spam."

Rafe didn't look convinced, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You're a bad liar, Rosemary."

MJ forced a casual shrug, slipping the phone back into her bag. "Just someone trying to rattle me. It's not a big deal."

Rafe's expression darkened, and he sat up straighter, his protective side kicking in. "If it's Hollis again—"

"It's fine," MJ cut him off, her tone firmer. "I can handle it."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't press further, instead leaning back with a sigh. "You'd better tell me if it's not. I'm not letting anyone screw with us."

MJ gave him a small smile, though her mind was already elsewhere, running through every possible implication of that message. She glanced out at the ocean, watching the waves roll in, trying to ground herself in the moment.

But as much as she tried, the lingering tension from the text clung to her, an unshakable weight pressing on her chest. No matter how far she thought she'd come, shadows always threatened to pull her back.

The rumble of Topper's Jeep was unmistakable as it tore through the dunes, growing louder and more threatening by the second. Savannah and Ruthie were perched in the front seats, their faces gleaming with malice as they hurtled toward the Pogues.

"Are they seriously doing this right now?" Kiara shouted, her voice trembling with disbelief.

"Move!" Sarah screamed, grabbing one of the makeshift barriers they'd placed around the baby turtles. "Get the turtles out of the way!"

John B and Pope scrambled to scoop up as many tiny creatures as possible, sand spraying in every direction. JJ, still crouched near the water, stood up, his face hardening as he realized the Jeep wasn't slowing down.

"Get the hell out of here!" JJ roared, stepping in front of the remaining turtles with his arms outstretched.

Savannah leaned out of the driver's side window, her sunglasses perched smugly on her nose. "Aw, look at you guys. So noble. Saving the turtles. What's next, adopting a seagull?"

"Back off, Savannah!" Sarah shouted, her voice sharp and commanding. "You're taking this too far!"

Savannah's grin widened as she revved the engine, causing the Jeep to lurch forward. The Pogues scattered, shouting in alarm.

"Move it, Maybank!" Savannah sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. Savannah's smirk vanished, replaced by a sneer. "You're so pathetic, JJ. Just like your sister. Guess being a Maybank really does mean being trash."

And then Ruthie, laughing maniacally from the passenger seat, grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it to the side. The Jeep swerved wildly, plowing over one of the baby turtles with a sickening crunch.

"NO!" Kiara screamed, her voice cracking as she dropped to her knees, clutching the sand.

JJ's entire body went rigid, his face a mask of fury. "You're dead," he growled, charging toward the Jeep.

The Jeep skidded to a stop. Savannah slammed on the brakes, laughing as she climbed out of the driver's seat. "Relax, JJ. It's just a turtle. There's like, a million of them."

JJ didn't stop, storming toward her with a fire in his eyes that made even Savannah falter for a moment.

But before he could reach her, another voice rang out, cold and venomous. "Get back in the car, Savannah. Now."

Everyone turned to see MJ, standing a few feet away with her arms crossed and her eyes blazing. Her voice was calm, but the underlying fury was palpable.

Savannah turned to her, her bravado returning. "Oh, look who decided to show up. The better Maybank. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself, right?"

MJ's lip curled in a cold smile. "You've got about three seconds to get out of here before I do something you're gonna regret."

Ruthie climbed out of the Jeep, clearly emboldened by Savannah's presence. "What are you gonna do, MJ? Lecture us? Run back to your Kook boyfriend?"

MJ didn't respond. Instead, she marched straight up to Savannah, snatched the Jeep keys from her hand, and threw them as hard as she could into the ocean. The splash was distant but satisfying.

"You crazy bitch!" Savannah shrieked, lunging at MJ.

But MJ didn't back down. She grabbed Savannah by the wrist, twisting it just enough to make her yelp. "Call me crazy again," MJ hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "See what happens."

JJ was frozen, watching his sister with a mixture of shock and admiration.

Savannah yanked her arm free, glaring daggers at MJ. "You're just like your brother. Trash. No amount of Kook money can change that."

MJ's smirk turned deadly. "And you'll always be a desperate little girl who has to run people over to feel relevant."

The tension was suffocating, but it shattered when Ruthie muttered, "Let's just go, Savannah. This isn't worth it."

Savannah shot one last glare at MJ before storming off toward the dunes, Ruthie trailing behind her.

As the Jeep sat abandoned in the sand, MJ turned to the Pogues, her expression unreadable. "You good?" she asked, her voice softer now.

JJ nodded, his lips twitching into a small, reluctant smile. "Yeah. Thanks."

For a brief moment, the siblings locked eyes, a rare truce between them. But it was fleeting, as always. MJ turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the Pogues to deal with the aftermath.

The tension on the beach was palpable as Savannah and Ruthie smirked smugly, clearly revelling in the chaos they had caused. Kiara was still yelling at them, her voice raw with anger as she pointed at the crushed baby turtle.

"You're disgusting! What kind of person does something like that?" Kiara spat, tears welling in her eyes.

Savannah rolled her eyes, unfazed. "Oh, please. It's just a turtle, Kie. Get over it."

Ruthie added with a smirk, "Maybe you should save your little freakouts for something that actually matters. This is the real world, sweetheart. Not everyone's got time to hug trees and save turtles."

JJ stormed up then, his eyes blazing with fury, and his voice thundered over the beach. "You ever do something like that again, and I swear to God, I'll kill you."

The air went deathly quiet for a moment, the words hanging heavy in the space between them.

Topper, who had been lingering nearby, immediately stepped forward, his face a mix of anger and panic. "Did you just threaten them, Maybank? Are you insane?"

Ruthie didn't miss a beat, pulling out her phone and waving it smugly. "Oh, don't worry, Topper. I got it all on the recording. Let's see how long it takes for that temper of yours to land you in jail again, JJ."

Before anyone could react, MJ appeared from seemingly nowhere, her face a mask of fury. Without hesitation, she snatched the phone out of Ruthie's hand and, with a loud crack, smashed it against the rocks, the pieces scattering into the sand.

"You think you're so untouchable," MJ hissed, her voice low and venomous. "Not everything's gonna go your way, princess."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Ruthie screeched, lunging at MJ.

That was all it took for chaos to erupt. Topper dove into the fray, shouting something incoherent as JJ stepped forward, ready to swing at whoever came his way. The Kooks and Pogues collided like a tidal wave, shouts and insults flying as the fight escalated.

But before MJ could land another blow, a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her clean off the ground.

"Enough!" Rafe's voice cut through the madness like a whip. He threw MJ over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing, ignoring her flailing and yelling as he turned and started walking away.

"Rafe, put me down!" MJ shouted, pounding her fists against his back.

"Not a chance," Rafe snapped, his voice cold and unyielding. "You're done here. Stop before you make things worse for everyone—including yourself."

Behind them, the fight sputtered out as the Kooks retreated, Savannah shouting after them, "You're all trash—every single one of you!"

JJ, blood trickling from a split lip, glared after them but didn't follow. His gaze shifted to MJ, still slung over Rafe's shoulder, and something dark and conflicted flickered across his face before he turned and walked back toward the Pouges.

────

Back at the house, the slam of the front door echoed through the spacious halls as MJ stormed in, still fuming. She kicked off her sandals with a sharp flick of her foot, muttering under her breath. Rafe followed closely behind, his jaw clenched, his movements jerky and erratic.

"Are you out of your goddamn mind, MJ?!" he exploded, his voice ricocheting off the walls like gunfire. "Do you have any idea what you just did?!"

MJ whirled around to face him, her eyes blazing. "I smashed her phone, Rafe! Big deal! Someone needed to put those spoiled brats in their place!"

Rafe's hands went to his hair, tugging at it violently as he began pacing the room like a caged animal. "Big deal? Big deal? MJ, that was assault! Do you get that? She's got witnesses, MJ! And with your record—Jesus Christ—do you even think before you act?!"

MJ's glare deepened, her arms crossing defensively. "Oh, don't you start with me, Rafe. You're the one who always says to stand up for myself!"

"This isn't standing up for yourself! This is you being reckless!" Rafe snapped, his voice cracking with the force of his anger. He turned to her, his eyes wild, his breathing shallow. "Do you know what they could do with this? They'll use it to screw us over. They'll use it to screw me over!"

MJ took a step back, her own anger faltering as she saw the unhinged glint in his eyes. "Rafe, calm down—"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" he shouted, slamming his fist against the wall so hard the picture frame above it rattled. "You think this is a game, huh? You think we can just waltz through life, pissing people off, breaking their stuff, and no one's gonna do anything about it?"

"She was threatening JJ! She was threatening me!" MJ argued, her voice rising to match his.

"And now you've given her exactly what she needs to bury you!" Rafe yelled, pointing a shaking finger at her. "They'll press charges, MJ! They'll dredge up every little thing from your past—everything you've worked to get away from—and they'll throw it in your face! And guess what? You'll drag me down with you!"

MJ froze, her throat tightening. "You're really making this about you?"

"It's about us!" Rafe barked, pacing again, his hands fidgeting, tugging at his shirt collar as if it were choking him. "You think I busted my ass to build a life for us, just so you can throw it all away over some stupid fight on the beach?"

Tears pricked MJ's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I didn't ask you to save me, Rafe. I didn't ask for any of this."

He stopped in his tracks, turning to face her, his chest heaving. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "No, but you're in it now. And if you don't start thinking about the consequences of your actions, you're gonna ruin everything."

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing. Then Rafe grabbed his keys off the counter and stormed toward the door.

"Where are you going?" MJ demanded, her voice cracking.

"Out," Rafe snapped without looking back. "I need to clear my head before I lose it completely."

And with that, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving MJ alone in the silence, her hands shaking as she tried to steady her breathing. The weight of his words settled heavily on her shoulders, and for the first time, doubt began to creep in. Had she really just put everything on the line?

Later that night, the house felt colder. MJ paced back and forth, the silence of the house pressing down on her. Rafe had left without a word, disappearing into the night. She knew where he was going—Hollis. And she couldn't shake the feeling that everything was spiralling out of control.

Minutes stretched into hours before Rafe finally came back, his steps heavy as he pushed open the front door. He looked different—tense, shoulders squared, as though the weight of something far too heavy had settled on him.

He didn't look at MJ right away. Instead, he walked straight to the counter, pulling a file out from his jacket. He slammed it down in front of her with a sense of finality.

"Rafe," MJ began cautiously, her voice small in the large, empty room. "What happened? What did Hollis say?"

Rafe finally met her gaze, and the frustration in his eyes was unmistakable. "She said she'll protect you," he muttered, his tone a mix of anger and exhaustion. "But I had to sign a deal with her. If we want out of this mess, if we want to stay off the radar... I had no choice. I had to do it."

MJ's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean? What kind of deal?"

Rafe took a breath, his hands shaking slightly as he gripped the edge of the counter. "She's got leverage, MJ. She knows too much. She made me sign it—said if I do what she wants, she'll keep you out of her reach. Keep you from anything that could hurt you."

MJ's pulse quickened. "What does that even mean? What does she want from you?"

Rafe's jaw clenched, and he hesitated for a moment before answering. "It's not just about me. She wants us both in on something. A development project, some high-stakes deal with connections I don't want to touch. But it's the only way to keep you safe. It's the only way to stop her from using that shit against us."

MJ's stomach churned. "So, you're telling me you made a deal with Hollis, of all people, to protect me?" she asked, her voice cracking with disbelief.

Rafe met her eyes, his expression dark. "I didn't have a choice, MJ. She has too much on us. You—me—our pasts... She can ruin everything. And if it means playing her game for a little while, so be it."

Her head was spinning as she processed his words. The fact that he was willing to sacrifice so much for her—willing to tie them both to someone like Hollis—was almost too much to handle.

But there was no going back now. They were in this mess together, whether she liked it or not.

"Do you hate me for this?" Rafe asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

MJ stood there for a moment, unsure of how to answer. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to scream at him for letting this happen. But as she looked at him—so torn and broken—she realized she was just as trapped as he was.

"I don't hate you," she finally whispered. "But I don't know if I can keep doing this. If this is the life we're supposed to have, I don't know if I can survive it."

Rafe's gaze softened, and he stepped closer, his hand gently brushing against her arm. "We'll figure it out. Together. I promise."

But even as he said the words, the weight of Hollis's deal hung over them both like a storm cloud—dark and heavy, threatening to tear them apart. And MJ had a sinking feeling that they were only just beginning to see the true cost of getting involved with people like her.

Rafe's hands trembled as he reached out, gently cupping MJ's face in his palms. His touch was tender, almost pleading, as if trying to hold her together in the storm of everything that had just unfolded. He leaned in slightly, searching her eyes for something he was afraid to find.

"You need to tell me what Hollis has on you," he said, his voice low but urgent, a flicker of desperation in his gaze. "Whatever it is, whatever she's holding over you—don't keep it from me. We need to be on the same side here, MJ."

His words sent a cold shiver down her spine. She'd been holding this in for so long, burying the fear and shame she had been carrying for years. The weight of Hollis's threats, the terrible secret that had always loomed over her, now felt like an insurmountable wall between them.

MJ swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotions at bay, but she could feel the cracks starting to form. Rafe was so close now—too close for her to keep hiding. She had never wanted to involve him in this. She had never wanted him to know what she'd done, what she was capable of, but now, in this moment, it was clear that the lies couldn't hold up anymore.

"I—" She stopped herself, her breath shaky. "Rafe, I... I didn't want you to know. I didn't want this to ruin what we have."

Rafe's thumbs gently stroked her cheeks as he watched her, his expression softening, but his eyes were full of worry. "I'm not gonna run from you, MJ. Whatever it is, we can deal with it. But I need you to trust me. Tell me what Hollis has on you. We're already in this together. Don't shut me out."

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. She had to tell him. She couldn't keep carrying this alone.

MJ's heart hammered in her chest as she tried to pull herself together, but the fear gnawed at her insides. She could feel Rafe's gaze on her, and she knew this was the moment she had to finally tell him. Her hands were shaking, her mind racing for a way to protect him from the truth. But there was no escaping it now.

Rafe's touch was gentle, but the urgency in his voice made her stomach twist. "MJ, please... I need you to tell me what Hollis has on you. I need to know."

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Rafe, I—" She faltered, words trapped in her throat. "It's something from a long time ago. Years ago, actually. I don't think you'll even remember."

His expression tightened, clearly anxious to know what she was about to say. "MJ, whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm not going anywhere. You're not alone in this."

She opened her eyes, and for the first time, she let herself truly look at him—his face full of concern, his hands still holding her gently, like he was afraid to let go. That made this so much harder. The thought of him hating her, of this ruining everything they'd started to build, was more than she could bear. But she couldn't lie anymore.

"I—" Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, trying to push past the lump in her throat. "I wasn't always... this." She gestured vaguely to herself, to the life she'd built since escaping. "Before I came here, I wasn't in a good place. I was... I was in a juvenile detention center, Rafe. For something I did when I was younger."

Rafe's face froze, confusion flashing across his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He blinked several times, trying to process what she had just said. 

MJ nodded slowly, her stomach turning. "Yeah. It wasn't... like what you think. I wasn't some hardened criminal, Rafe. I—I made a mistake. A huge one. I got into a fight. A bad one. And I ended up in juvie for a while." She closed her eyes, unable to look at him anymore. "It was an accident."

MJ's pulse raced as she struggled to gather the courage to confess, every part of her body urging her to stay silent, to avoid the confrontation. But the weight of Rafe's stare made it impossible to lie any longer. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, and finally, she spoke, her voice trembling.

"Rafe, there's something you need to know. Something I've never told anyone... because I can't ever take it back."

Rafe's grip on her wrist tightened, his brows furrowing as he leaned in, his eyes intense and demanding. "What is it, MJ? What's going on with you? What does Hollis have on you?"

She closed her eyes, her chest tightening with dread, as the memory of that day came rushing back. The guilt that she had buried for years reared its ugly head, and she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"When I was younger," MJ started, her voice cracking, "I wasn't... I wasn't like this. I was stupid. Reckless. I wanted to fit in, to be seen, to prove something. And I did something... horrible. Something unforgivable."

Rafe's face hardened, but he didn't interrupt. He was waiting, as if knowing the next words would destroy everything.

"I... I set a building on fire," MJ whispered, the words feeling like acid on her tongue. "It was supposed to be just a dare, something stupid, but it... it wasn't just a building. There were people inside. People who didn't deserve to die."

Rafe's eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at her, as if the weight of her confession had momentarily knocked the breath out of him. He stepped back, his face pale, a flash of disbelief flashing across his features.

"I—I didn't know, Rafe," she continued, her voice breaking. "I didn't know they were inside. I didn't think it would be so bad. But the fire spread... it was too fast. People couldn't get out. They died, Rafe. People died. And it was my fault."

Tears started to streak down her face as she collapsed into herself, the memory of the fire, the screams, the smoke filling her lungs as she watched the flames tear through the building, now too much to bear. She had never fully understood the extent of the damage until it was too late. Until she saw the aftermath—the bodies, the families who had lost everything. And she knew that she was responsible for it all.

"That night... I was arrested. They charged me with arson, manslaughter," MJ choked out, her hands shaking as she tried to hold herself together. "I spent time in juvenile detention, but nothing could ever undo what I did. And Hollis—she knows everything. She has pictures, reports... she knows about the fire, about my record. And she's threatening to ruin everything if I don't do what she says."

Rafe's face turned an ashen color, his jaw clenched tightly as he tried to process her confession. He didn't speak at first, as if trying to find the right words or maybe to even believe what he had just heard. The silence between them stretched on painfully.

"You... you killed people?" Rafe's voice was low, his words filled with shock and disbelief. "And now Hollis has... what, blackmail material on you?"

"I didn't mean for it to happen!" MJ screamed, her emotions raw, her breath ragged. "I was just a stupid, reckless kid! I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt, but they did. I killed them, Rafe. And I can't change it. I can't undo it. And now I'm stuck—she's using me to get what she wants. And I can't stop her."

Rafe stared at her for a moment, his lips pressing together into a thin line. His body was tense, his hands clenched at his sides, as the full weight of what she had just confessed settled in. The room was thick with silence before, to her surprise, Rafe let out a sharp laugh—bitter, hollow, and completely unexpected.

"Wow," he muttered, shaking his head, still chuckling as though the whole situation was some kind of cruel joke. His eyes met hers, the amusement flickering for just a second before the smirk faded. "I shot a sheriff. I tried to kill my sister, and her friends - your friends. 

I did it to protect myself, to protect the people I care about. So, yeah, you think you're some kind of monster for burning down a building, killing people? Well, I guess that makes me just as bad. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna judge you for it."

His words hit her like a punch in the gut. He paused, staring her down with a twisted grin, as if daring her to argue.

"So, go ahead, MJ," Rafe said, his voice lowering to a dark growl. "You can tell me about your stupid, reckless past, and I'll tell you about mine. But in the end, neither of us is any better or worse than the other. We both did horrible things. And you know what? I don't give a damn anymore. We're both in this mess now. We both have to deal with it."

MJ was silent, her chest tight, her mind reeling as Rafe's words sank in. She had expected anger, or maybe judgment—but not this. Not a laugh. Not a confession of his own, one that made her feel like her own guilt was nothing compared to his. 

"Rafe..." she whispered, her voice shaky.

He nodded, the grin fading into something more somber. "Yeah. And if I had to do it again, I wouldn't hesitate. So don't sit here thinking you're the only one who's crossed the line. You're not. And I sure as hell won't judge you for it."

Rafe took a step closer, his face now serious, his eyes cold but unyielding. "I'm not perfect. You're not perfect. But we're in this together, MJ. And if Hollis thinks she can use your past against us... she's got another thing coming."

MJ swallowed, her head spinning. She couldn't decide if she was relieved or terrified by his response. Rafe had just admitted to something as terrible as her own secret—but now, somehow, it felt like they were even. It wasn't that she felt better; it was just that the weight of her confession didn't feel quite so heavy when compared to his own sins.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know how to tell you."

Rafe's face softened, the anger momentarily fading. "Doesn't matter anymore," he said quietly. "We've got bigger things to worry about than who did what when."

But the words didn't make her feel better. They didn't undo the guilt, and they didn't take away the fear that now haunted her—the fear that the mistakes they'd both made would eventually destroy them. 

────

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Rafe had already woken up before her, his presence palpable even in the quiet moments before she fully opened her eyes. When MJ finally stirred, she saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down at her with a soft smile that made her chest tighten.

"Good morning, soon to be Mrs. Cameron," Rafe said, his voice low and affectionate, his gaze full of warmth. The words felt like a promise, like he was staking his claim in a way that was both comforting and unnerving.

MJ's heart skipped a beat, the sound of the title hanging in the air between them, unfamiliar yet so real. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment, but before she could respond, Rafe leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead, a gentle touch that somehow felt like everything was right in the world—at least for that brief second.

"I wish I could stay," he murmured, pulling back just slightly to look at her with that familiar, almost possessive gaze. "But I've got some meetings to attend. Things to wrap up, you know how it is."

His words were matter-of-fact, but his tone carried a tenderness that felt new—almost as if he were trying to hold onto the moment with her, even if only for a little while.

MJ watched him, her heart still beating fast, her mind a swirl of emotions from the night before. She had never expected Rafe to be so... gentle. The edge, the volatility he so often carried, was still there in the background, but right now, it seemed like he was trying to let her into a part of him she had yet to fully understand.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice still thick with the remnants of sleep and the weight of everything they had talked about the night before. She sat up slowly, the blankets falling around her as she met his gaze.

"I'll be here when you get back," she added, unsure of whether she meant it more for him or for herself.

Rafe gave her a soft, reassuring smile. "I know you will."

He stood, stretching his arms over his head before he turned to grab his jacket from the chair. "I'll make it quick. You deserve a peaceful day."

Before leaving, he stopped by the door and turned back to look at her, his eyes lingering on her with a gaze that felt almost possessive, but in a way that wasn't threatening. He seemed to take a moment to appreciate her presence before his usual bravado returned.

"See you later, Mrs. Cameron," he added with a smirk, his voice playful but sincere, before walking out.

MJ sat there for a long moment, the silence of the room wrapping around her. The words he had said, the way he'd kissed her forehead, it all felt like a dream—a dream she wasn't sure she was ready to wake up from.

She couldn't help but smile softly to herself. The name, Mrs. Cameron, felt strange on her tongue, but somehow, hearing it from Rafe... it didn't feel entirely wrong.

Yet in the pit of her stomach, the weight of the secrets they both carried loomed, reminding her that their perfect moments were never without complications.

MJ sat on the porch, strumming her guitar absently, the soft rhythm offering her some peace. The morning sun warmed her skin, but her mind was anything but calm. She had just come to terms with everything going on in her life—Rafe, her engagement, the Kooks, and the Pogue tension—and yet, there was always something lurking under the surface, waiting to disrupt it all.

It wasn't long before the sound of footsteps broke her reverie. She looked up, startled, to see a man standing before her. His appearance caught her off guard. He wore a baseball cap low over his face, but his eyes were sharp, and his stance was confident.

He took a few steps forward, his gaze locking with hers, and without a word, handed her a sealed envelope.

"Are you Rosemary Jane Maybank?" he asked, his voice low but steady.

MJ eyed the envelope, the unease that had been gnawing at her since yesterday creeping up once again. "Yeah, I am. Who are you?" Her voice was cautious.

"I've been looking for you. This is for you." He pressed the envelope into her hand.

MJ took it, her fingers brushing against the worn paper. There was something about the way he handed it to her that made her stomach churn. He didn't seem like the type of person who would deliver a friendly letter. "Who's it from?" she asked, but the man didn't answer. He just nodded and started walking away.

The letter felt heavy in her hands as she flipped it over, her pulse quickening with each second. The handwriting on the front was neat but unfamiliar. Slowly, she tore it open, taking a deep breath before she unfolded the paper inside.

It was Mr. Wes Genrette's—carefully scrawled on the front: "Miss MJ Maybank."

Her fingers hovered over the envelope, hesitation gripping her. She'd heard the news: Wes Genrette was dead. His empire, his schemes, all the dark, tangled webs he wove behind the scenes were no more. But why was this letter here? Why was it addressed to her?

She carefully tore open the envelope, her mind racing. The letter inside was slightly worn, the edges creased, as if it had been handled and hidden for a long time. She unfolded it slowly, each motion feeling deliberate as if she were unveiling something far too dangerous to handle recklessly.

MJ's pulse quickened as she re-read the letter. The words swirled in her mind, their meaning as dark as the man who had written them. The letter felt like a final warning, a message from beyond the grave.

But now, even in death, he was pulling her back into it. She wasn't sure whether to be angry, scared, or both.

The silence in the room pressed down on her, thick and heavy. There was no escaping this. She was already tangled in his web, and she hadn't even known it.

She looked at the letter again, her mind working over the words.  

MJ froze as her eyes caught the sight of JJ sprinting toward her house, his face painted with frantic determination. His usual swagger was gone, replaced by something raw—something desperate. In his hand, he held a letter, identical to the one she had just read. Her pulse quickened, a cold shiver running down her spine.

"JJ?" she called out, but he didn't slow down, just barreling past her and up the steps to the porch.

"MJ!" His voice cracked, a mixture of fear and anger. "I got one too." He waved the letter in front of her, his grip tight around it like it might slip away if he let go for even a second. "We need to find Dad. Now."

MJ's breath caught. The last thing she needed was this—more chaos. But she knew this wasn't a coincidence. Not with the way his eyes were burning with urgency. This was bigger than her or JJ, bigger than anything they'd faced before.

"Did it say the same thing?" she asked, already knowing the answer but needing him to say it out loud.

JJ's eyes flashed as MJ stared at the letter in her hands, the weight of its words pressing on her chest. It was written in the same smooth, elegant handwriting as before—Mr. Genrette's unmistakable script. But this time, the words were heavier, laced with an urgency that sent a chill through her.

The first line caught her attention:

"I deeply apologize for the secrecy of this delivery, but it was necessary for reasons far beyond our control."

Her fingers tightened around the paper, and her heart pounded as she read on.

"There are matters of great importance regarding the project known as 'Albatross.' While the full scope of this project has yet to be understood, it is crucial that you, MJ Maybank and JJ Maybank, speak with your father. He knows more than he's revealed and has, for reasons of his own, withheld the truth. There are natural and supernatural forces at play that require his involvement."

The words "natural and supernatural" hit her like a punch to the gut. It was like something out of a bad dream—something she couldn't fully grasp but knew enough to realize that this was bigger than anything they'd ever encountered.

She looked up at JJ, whose wide eyes met hers, a mix of confusion and disbelief.

"What... what the hell does that mean?" he muttered, shaking his head as if trying to make sense of it. "Supernatural forces? Are we supposed to be hunting ghosts or something now?"

MJ shook her head, her breath shallow. "This... this can't be real, right? This sounds insane."

JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "No, it sounds like we're in deeper than we thought. And Dad's the key to all of it. That's why we need to find him."

MJ's gaze dropped back to the letter, reading the last few lines aloud:

"I ask for your understanding in these dire circumstances. I know you may find it difficult to comprehend, but trust that you have a role to play in this. Time is of the essence, and the stakes have never been higher."

Her voice trembled as she finished, the weight of Mr. Genrette's words sinking in. She could hear the urgency in them, the desperation that seemed to pour off the paper.

"Where do we even start looking for him?" MJ asked, her voice barely above a whisper. MJ felt the weight of it all, the letter still clutched in her hand, the words now almost echoing in her ears. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with all this, but JJ was right—they needed answers. Fast.

"Where is he?" she asked, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

JJ's eyes darted over his shoulder, scanning the horizon. "I don't know, but if we don't act now, we'll never get the chance. We've got to move—now."

She nodded, no more questions. No time for them. She knew what they had to do.

Before she could take another step, JJ grabbed her arm. "MJ, you need to understand something. This? It's not just about us anymore. We're not just fighting for our lives. We're fighting for everyone else's too."

She looked at him, his face hard with determination, and for the first time in a long while, she felt the weight of his words. This wasn't just a game anymore.

"No more running, then," she said, her voice steady, her resolve firming up with each passing second. "Let's find Dad."

Together, they turned and sprinted out of the house, the sun sinking lower in the sky, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch out ahead of them—a warning of the darkness they were about to enter.

────

The salty air of the Outer Banks hit them as they made their way down the weathered dock, the soft creak of the boards underfoot adding to the tension that hung thick between them. JJ's face was taut, his jaw clenched as he kept glancing over his shoulder. MJ could feel her own pulse quickening, the weight of the letter still pressing down on her chest like a physical burden.

"I don't know why I didn't think to check here first," JJ muttered, his hand gripping the letter tightly, as though it might unravel all the answers they were looking for.

They stopped outside Barracuda Mike's, the low rumble of music and chatter spilling out from the inside. The place was quieter than usual for a midday crowd, and it felt like the right kind of place to ask questions. But both of them knew better than to expect easy answers, not with everything on the line.

They stepped through the door, the bell above the entrance giving a soft jingle as they entered. The bar was mostly empty except for a few locals nursing beers, but the familiar smell of fried food and old wood hung in the air.

"Mike," MJ called, her voice steady despite the storm of questions swirling in her mind.

The bartender, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a weathered face, looked up from polishing a glass. His eyes narrowed as he registered who had walked in. He didn't smile, but there was a flicker of recognition.

"Y'all looking for something?" he asked, his tone rough but not unfriendly.

JJ didn't waste time with pleasantries. "We're looking for my dad—Luke Maybank. He's been around here lately, right?"

Mike's eyes shifted, and for a split second, MJ thought she saw something like hesitation flicker across his face. It was quickly masked, but not before she caught it.

"Luke hasn't been around here for a while," Mike replied, but the way his voice lowered made it clear that he wasn't being entirely truthful. "Why do you wanna know?"

JJ wasn't backing down. "I need to find him. It's important."

There was a long pause as Mike continued to wipe down the counter, eyes darting between the two of them. Then, he leaned in closer, lowering his voice so the few patrons wouldn't hear.

"You didn't hear it from me, but Luke's been in and outta town for the last couple weeks. Kinda... keeping his distance," Mike said, his voice tense. "And I mean really keeping his distance. If you wanna find him, though, you might want to check down at the old warehouse. The one by the docks. Last I saw him, that's where he was holed up."

MJ and JJ exchanged a quick look. The warehouse wasn't exactly a place you went to for good news. But they had no choice. They needed answers.

"Thanks," JJ said, his voice tight.

As they turned to leave, Mike called after them, his voice low and serious. "You don't wanna get tangled up in whatever mess Luke's in. It's not good, and he's not the same man he was. Trust me."

Ignoring Mike's warning, MJ and JJ made their way back outside, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air between them. They didn't need to say it, but both of them felt the same thing: they didn't belive him for one second. 

 Something didn't add up, and JJ wasn't the type to let that slide.

"I'm not buying it," he muttered, shaking his head as he walked alongside MJ toward the docks. "Something's not right. Mike's hiding something, I can feel it."

MJ glanced at him, her brow furrowed. "So what now? We're not just going to let it go, are we?"

"No way," JJ said, his voice firm. "We're checking the docks ourselves. If my dad's around here, we'll find him. No more playing games."

The sky was beginning to fade into twilight, casting long shadows over the weather-beaten wooden planks of the dock. They found a quiet spot to sit near the edge, their feet dangling over the water. The evening breeze swept through the air, carrying the scent of saltwater and something darker, like the calm before a storm.

JJ's mind was a storm of confusion as he stared at the dark, swirling water, the pieces of his world not fitting together—his father's disappearance, the strange letter, Mike's cryptic words. Each unanswered question only deepened the gnawing dread in his gut.

MJ sat silently beside him, her own thoughts clouded, but she could feel the weight of JJ's frustration radiating off him. It was almost tangible. She nudged him, hoping to calm him. "JJ, maybe Mike wasn't lying. Maybe Luke's keeping his distance for a reason."

JJ's breath came out in a sharp exhale, his jaw clenching tightly. "I don't believe that for a second, MJ. He's my father. He wouldn't just vanish—especially not after everything that's happened. Something's off. There's got to be more to this."

Before MJ could respond, JJ's phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling his attention away from the dark water. His heart dropped as he saw the name on the screen.

Luke Maybank.

For a brief moment, JJ froze, his pulse quickening. His hand trembled as he swiped to answer, trying to sound calm. "Dad?"

There was a long pause before Luke's voice crackled through the line, rough and gravelly, as if he'd been drinking. "Hey, kids. Good to hear your voices."

JJ's stomach twisted into knots. "Where the hell are you?"

Luke's laugh was dry, almost forced. "Oh, man, deep in the jungle, up a river. Location unknown." He paused, like he was weighing something. "So, what's this I hear about JJ hocking something, and MJ slumming it up with a Cameron?"

"Fuck off, Luke," MJ shot back, her temper flaring, but JJ's face hardened, a frustrated frown creasing his brow. "It's not me selling anything, Dad. It's a long story, but it's about Wes Genrette."

Luke's tone changed, darkening. "Genrette? No bueno. Stay away from that mess. Trust me."

"Yeah, well..." JJ began, but MJ cut him off, her voice sharp. "A little too late for that, Dad."

They froze, both of them hearing the unmistakable sound of a dog barking in the background. The noise echoed from just down the dock—coming from inside Barracuda Mike's house. Their eyes locked in unspoken realization.

"Wait, hold on," JJ said, his voice lowering, the urgency creeping into his tone. "What's that noise? Where are you, Dad?"

From the phone, they heard Barracuda Mike's voice, low and gruff. "Settle down, boy."

JJ's jaw tightened. "Say that again."

"Hey, quiet down now," Mike's voice came through, more strained this time, and the barking grew louder.

Luke's voice came back, more panicked now. "I gotta go, kids. Stay safe."

Before JJ could respond, the line went dead, leaving only the echo of the dog's bark and the heavy silence between them. His heart hammered in his chest, disbelief mixing with growing rage.

"That was him," JJ said, voice tight. "Luke... is here. Right now. At Barracuda Mike's."

He could see it in MJ's eyes—she knew it too. The pieces were finally falling into place, but now they had no idea what to do next.

JJ and MJ didn't waste a second. As soon as the call ended, the tension in the air turned electric. Without a word, they both bolted down the dock, their feet pounding against the worn wood as they moved toward Barracuda Mike's house. JJ's mind raced, every step fueled by the frantic need for answers.

He knew Luke was close, but something felt off. Why had Mike tried to hide it? Why hadn't he told them sooner? The sound of the dog barking in the distance only added to the weight in his chest.

When they reached the front of Barracuda Mike's shack, they didn't hesitate. JJ slammed his fist against the door, the sharp crack of it echoing down the quiet dock. MJ stood beside him, equally determined, her eyes burning with a mix of frustration and fear.

"Mike!" JJ shouted, banging the door again, harder this time. "We know Luke's here! Open the damn door!"

MJ stepped forward, her voice cutting through the silence. "Tell us where he is, Mike. Right now."

There was a pause, followed by the sound of movement from inside, then the slow creak of the door. Barracuda Mike's face appeared in the gap, his expression guarded, eyes darting between the two of them.

"You kids need to leave," Mike growled, his voice low, but there was something in his eyes—fear or guilt, it was hard to tell.

"Not until you tell us where he is," JJ snapped, stepping closer, his voice rising. "You know something. What the hell's going on, Mike?"

Mike hesitated, his eyes darting between the twins as he weighed his options. He didn't want to get caught in the middle, but he could tell they weren't going to back down. With a resigned grunt, he stepped aside. "Fine," he muttered, clearly trying to shake the unease in his voice. "But you're making a huge mistake. Luke doesn't want to be found. Trust me."

MJ's patience snapped like a twig. She stepped forward, her voice low but fierce. "I don't care what Luke wants. We need answers, and you're going to give them to us. Now."

"Yeah, Barracuda, I know he's in there," JJ snapped, crossing his arms. His frustration was palpable, but it was only getting worse by the second.

"You can't just come in here hooting and hollering, all right? Calm down, let's talk this out," Mike said, his voice rising slightly in irritation.

JJ's eyes narrowed, noticing the cans of Busch Light stacked up near the door. "You've been drinking all this Busch Light, huh?" He made sure Mike heard the tone in his voice, knowing damn well Mike was trying to hide something. "Where's he at?"

"Jesus, you kids know nothing!" Barracuda Mike spat, his breath smelling of alcohol as he stood toe to toe with JJ. His fists clenched as he got in JJ's face. "You don't know shit about this world."

"I'm about to know real soon," JJ shot back, his stance unwavering. "Either I go in there or he comes out. Understand?"

Just as things seemed like they might escalate further, MJ's voice cut through the tension, soft but firm. "JJ," she said slowly, a shift in her gaze. She stepped back, her eyes locking on something behind Mike. "Look."

JJ turned just in time to see Luke step out from the shadows of the house, looking disheveled but strangely calm. His face lit up when he saw them, like he hadn't just been avoiding them for weeks.

"Hey kids," Luke said, his voice rough but laced with a half-hearted smile. "Good to see you."

JJ's hands balled into fists, his entire body tensing with anger. He barely looked at his father, his frustration boiling over. "So, you've just been chilling here the whole time, huh? Never thought about telling us? Either of you?"

Luke avoided his son's gaze, his voice dropping to something more defensive. "I'm just doing the Kildare runs. In and out. Mostly out." He paused, looking at MJ like he might say something more, but then seemed to stop himself. "But I'm here now. Come on."

"Don't fucking touch her," JJ snapped, putting his hand out in front of MJ, a protective instinct flaring in him. His voice was firm, like a warning. He wasn't ready to let Luke back into their lives so easily, especially not after everything that had happened.

Luke held his hands up in surrender, but there was a faint trace of regret in his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry about the disappearing act," he said, his tone softer than they expected. "I didn't want you two to get dragged into this mess. I'm... I'm a wanted man, and I didn't want to put you in danger. It's just..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. "It's complicated."

"Yeah, well, you sure made it complicated," JJ said, his voice bitter. "And now, we're trying to figure out what the hell's going on with Wes Genrette."

Luke's expression shifted at the mention of the name, the briefest flicker of concern in his eyes. "Genrette?" He let out a breath. "No bueno. Stay away from that, kids. Trust me."

"He's dead," JJ shot back, reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out the letter—the one that both he and MJ had received after Wes's death. "And we got this after he died."

Luke looked down at the envelope in JJ's hand, then back at the kids, his face softening as if he truly regretted not being there for them. "Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear that," Luke said, his voice quieter now. "He was a good man."

"Yeah, we wouldn't know," JJ muttered. "But he left us this." He handed the letter to Luke, his fingers tight around it as he let go. "No idea what it means. Thought maybe you could explain it to us."

A heavy silence fell between them as Luke glanced down at the letter, then back at the twins. The rumble of thunder was growing louder in the distance, an ominous sign that a storm was coming. Luke sighed, rubbing his forehead as he looked at them both. "Come on," he said, nodding toward the dock. "Let's talk."

He began walking toward the dock, his pace slower than usual, like he was avoiding something. MJ and JJ exchanged a brief look before following, each step heavy with uncertainty.

Luke had been gone for so long, and now he was back with more questions than answers. But one thing was for sure—they weren't going to let him disappear again without getting the truth.

────

Authors Note:

Uh oh, next chapter is the BIG reveal. How do we think MJ is going to take the news? Is she going to tell Rafe?