「 ✦MOTHERS AND FATHERS✦ 」

────

AS THEY WALKED DOWN toward the dock, the storm clouds above thickened, the air growing heavier with the approaching thunder. Luke's footsteps were slow and deliberate like he was walking them into a trap. The weight of his words from earlier hung over them, like a fog that wouldn't lift.

Luke's gaze hardened again, the façade back in place as he turned his back on them.

The climb to the top of the lighthouse had been their only option, desperation fueling their every step as they fled the pursuing cops with Luke in tow. The night was thick with tension, the humid air clinging to their skin as the distant wail of sirens grew fainter but no less threatening. MJ's legs burned with the effort, but she didn't stop, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. JJ was just ahead of her, his movements frantic, as though sheer momentum would make the truth they were chasing fall into their laps. Luke trailed behind, his presence a storm cloud threatening to burst. None of them spoke as they reached the top, lungs heaving and adrenaline coursing through their veins. The salt-laden air whipped through the shattered windows, carrying with it the sound of crashing waves far below, a stark reminder of how high they had climbed—both literally and figuratively—to get here.

The lighthouse's platform offered a brief moment of reprieve, but their minds were far from calm. MJ leaned against the railing, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of anger, betrayal, and desperation for answers. Luke's shadowed figure stood apart from the twins, his silence cutting deeper than any words could. The man who had always been a phantom in their lives now felt even more distant, his hesitations and half-truths chipping away at what little trust remained. JJ's frustration radiated off him like heat as he paced along the edge, barely containing the storm that roiled inside him. Below them, the patrol cars finally began to retreat, their beams of light disappearing into the darkness. The three of them remained rooted in place, the night swallowing their heavy breaths as the weight of their shared history pressed down like the storm clouds gathering above. For all the running, all the chasing, the answers they sought felt further away than ever.

The wind whipped around them at the top of the lighthouse, tugging at their clothes as the salt air filled their lungs. MJ leaned casually against the railing, her golden hair shining in the moonlight, cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. She looked effortlessly poised, a stark contrast to the chaos they had just escaped. Her white silk cami hugged her figure perfectly, tucked into her jean shorts. 

A pair of designer espadrilles peeked out beneath the hem, and a dainty gold anklet glinted around her ankle. The oversized diamond ring on her finger sparkled with an almost blinding intensity, catching the faint light as if daring anyone to question her place in the world. Despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, MJ looked more like she'd just stepped off a yacht than spent the night outrunning the cops.

JJ, in his usual disheveled state, paced a few feet away, his damp shirt clinging to his frame and his blond hair a wild mess from the chase. The tension between the three of them was palpable, crackling like the storm clouds that hung heavy over the ocean. Luke stood in the middle, his face shadowed by the faint light of the lighthouse.

"We're safe," Luke said finally, his voice calm but distant. "Ain't no cops coming here."

JJ let out a harsh laugh, his jaw tight as he shook his head. "Safe for who, Luke? They're not looking for me. Or MJ. They're looking for you," he spat, his tone bitter. "I've got my own life to deal with now, and I'm done wasting time worrying about yours."

MJ stepped forward, her espadrilles making soft, deliberate sounds against the floor. She lifted her hand, the massive diamond catching the light as she pointed it toward Luke like a weapon. "I'm getting married," she snapped, her voice cold and biting. "I shouldn't have to deal with your bullshit anymore, Luke." Her piercing blue eyes locked onto his, a mixture of exhaustion and resentment flashing across her flawless face.

Luke's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression unreadable. She looked so polished, so composed, so utterly Kook. It was like staring at a ghost of someone he once knew—someone who had been part of a life he'd let slip through his fingers. The realization settled like a weight in his chest, and for the first time that night, Luke looked truly lost.

The lighthouse towered above the churning waves, its beam cutting through the thick night. The wind whipped around them, tugging at MJ's white linen romper, perfectly tailored and cinched at the waist with a sleek designer belt. Golden sandals peeked out from beneath her long, tanned legs as she crossed her arms, her diamond engagement ring catching the faint glow of the lighthouse's light. She looked every inch the Kook she had fought so hard to leave behind—poised, immaculate, and unflinching. But her sharp blue eyes burned with anger, and her tone dripped with venom as she turned to Luke.

"You're unbelievable," MJ snapped, her voice cutting through the howling wind. "Dragging us out here, feeding us your cryptic bullshit. For once, just say what you mean."

Luke leaned against the railing, his gaze distant as he spoke, his voice weighed down with something that might have been regret. "You two saved me back there. I owe you the truth."

JJ scoffed, yanking his hat off his head and balling it in his fist. "Yeah, I'm not sure why I did that. Probably the dumbest thing I've ever done. And trust me, there's a long list."

MJ rolled her eyes, stepping closer to her twin. "Save it, J. Let's hear what masterpiece of a story he's come up with this time."

Luke hesitated, glancing between the two of them. His kids—his kids. Or, at least, they had been. "Albatross," he said finally, his voice almost a whisper. "That was the name of the boat Larissa Genrette died on."

JJ frowned, his patience wearing thin. "Okay, and what does she have to do with anything? What's your point, Luke?"

MJ's gaze sharpened, her hands tightening around the railing. She had always been the one to connect the dots first, but even she couldn't believe what she was starting to piece together. "Spit it out," she demanded. "I'm not wasting all night up here."

Luke straightened, his face illuminated briefly by the sweeping light. "I'm not your father. Not by blood, anyway."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. JJ froze, his jaw clenching as he turned away, pacing a few steps before snapping back around. "What the hell are you talking about? What kind of twisted game are you playing now?"

"I'm serious," Luke said, his tone soft but firm. "The woman you thought was your mother—she wasn't. Your real mom was Larissa Genrette."

MJ blinked, her composure faltering for just a moment. She stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the platform. "Larissa Genrette," she repeated, her voice cold. "The one who drowned? That's who you're talking about?"

Luke nodded. "She was a good person. A damn good person. And she—"

"Spare me the sentimental crap," MJ snapped, cutting him off. "You're telling us this now? After all this time?"

JJ's frustration boiled over, and he threw his hat to the ground. "So, what? You just decided to play dad for shits and giggles? What the hell does any of this mean?"

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was trying to protect you. Both of you. Larissa had two babies, not one. The one the world thinks drowned with her? That was you, JJ."

The revelation sucked the air out of the space between them. JJ shook his head, disbelief etched across his face. "No. No, that doesn't make any sense. None of this makes sense."

MJ's mind raced, the pieces falling into place faster than she could process. "And Chandler Groff," she said slowly, her voice like ice. "He's the one, isn't he? He's our real father."

Luke looked at her, a flicker of something like pride crossing his face. "You've always been the smart one, Rosie."

"Don't call me that," MJ snapped, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "You've been lying to us our entire lives. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

JJ stepped forward, his fists clenched. "You're sick, Luke. Sick. You let us think you were our dad. You let us live in this nightmare."

Luke didn't flinch, but his voice softened. "I did what I thought was right."

"Right?" MJ spat, her voice breaking for the first time. "You wouldn't know right if it hit you in the face. You've been nothing but a selfish bastard, and now you're trying to pass it off as noble? Screw you, Luke."

The storm in the distance grew closer, the low rumble of thunder echoing their fury. JJ turned to his sister, his eyes searching hers for answers. But for once, even MJ didn't have them. All she knew was that everything she thought she understood about her life was unravelling, and Luke had been the one to pull the thread.

The summer sun blazed overhead, casting a golden hue across the sprawling estate grounds, where young Luke Maybanks toiled under its relentless heat. The air was alive with the chirping of birds, a symphony of nature that softened the intensity of the day. Luke had been hired to tend to the pristine gardens of the Genrette family, a task that brought him closer to Larissa Genrette as she navigated the challenges of being a new mother to twins.

On this particular afternoon, Larissa was outside on the manicured lawn, her laughter mingling with the gurgles and coos of her babies. She sat barefoot on the grass, her delicate hands guiding the twins as they reached for the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. Luke couldn't help but watch from a distance, his work momentarily forgotten. There was something about Larissa that struck him—a kindness, a warmth that seemed rare in the world she belonged to. Over time, he grew to admire her resilience and grace, seeing in her not just the lady of the house, but a devoted mother striving to give her children the love and care they deserved. To Luke, Larissa Genrette wasn't just a good person—she was an exceptional one.

The summer heat pressed down heavily as Luke approached Larissa Genrette, who sat on a blanket beneath the shade of a tree. Her delicate hands busied themselves with the twin babies, one nestled in her lap and the other giggling as the grass tickled her tiny fingers. Luke crouched down beside them, his calloused hands holding out a daisy he had plucked from the garden.

"How are the little champs today?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Jackson's a little restless, as always. Rosemary's her usual cheery self," Larissa replied, her smile lighting up her face. She took the daisy and held it down for the twins to see. "Look, a flower just for you."

Jackson reached out with his tiny hands, grabbing at the daisy with determined curiosity. Larissa chuckled. "Oh, he's claimed it now. Look at you, Jackson—your first flower."

Luke's eyes softened as he watched the interaction, his admiration for Larissa growing. She always spoke to him with kindness, treating him like an equal—so unlike her husband, Chandler Groff. That moment of peace, however, was shattered when Chandler stormed across the lawn, his expression sour.

"Luke," Chandler barked mockingly, "working hard, I see."

Luke immediately straightened, backing away from Larissa. "Yes, sir," he replied stiffly before retreating to the garden. "Bye."

Chandler's focus turned to Larissa. "Got them out here in this heat? Get them inside," he ordered, his tone cold and cutting.

Larissa tensed, hurriedly scooping up the twins. But it was clear she struggled with their weight, her movements clumsy under the pressure. "You don't help me," she murmured softly, her voice carrying a hint of defeat. Chandler scoffed, dismissing her struggles as he strode back to the house, muttering a list of superficial "help" he'd provided—none of which Larissa could actually rely on. Luke watched from the garden, his heart heavy. He wanted to step in, to protect her and the twins, but he knew that doing so would only put them in greater danger.

A few days later, as Luke worked his shift at the Genrette estate, he heard the cries of the twins echoing through the house. Larissa's voice, sweet but edged with panic, followed as she tried to calm them. Without hesitation, Luke made his way to the nursery and found her overwhelmed. He offered to help, taking Jackson into his arms and rocking him gently. The baby's cries softened, and soon, he drifted to sleep. Luke turned to Rosemary, whose wide eyes still shimmered with tears, and began to soothe her as well.

"Thank you," Larissa whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Luke sat beside her as she sobbed quietly, the weight of her struggles pressing down on both of them. He wondered, not for the first time, if in another life he could have been part of their world—not as the help, but as someone Larissa could depend on. Perhaps even as a father to the twins. But he pushed the thought away, knowing it was nothing more than a dream.

That night, long after the estate had quieted, Luke's unease grew when Chandler paid him an unexpected visit. The encounter was charged, leaving Luke more certain than ever that the dynamic in the Genrette household was as fractured as it was dangerous.

"Hey, how you doing, Luke?" Chandler said as he let himself inside the house. He was soaking wet, almost as if he hand just gone for a swim - however Luke didn't think much of it as it was raining hard outside.

"Mrs. Groff, what can I do for you?" Luke said looking up from the things he was tinkering with at his desk. 

"I can't belive it's come to this, but uh, Larissa she's not doing very good." Chandler started to head back outside where he grabbed a carried of a baby inside of it, only one. Luke was confused why he was with Jackson and not with both. "Larissa just... just needs a little... a little break. Will you take care of the baby?"

"Um, I... I... I guess i'd be as good as anyone."

"Good, good, um i'll pay you. I just need you to stay here for a little, Larissa just can't see Jackson right now." Chandler said, his behaviour seemed off. " Could set her off. You understand?"

"Where's Rosemary?" Luke asked.

"Can we keep this between us, yeah?" Chandler said, "We really only planned for one, you know? I just.. I don't.. I don't.. I don't want people to talk about Larissa you know? She trust you. Can we?"

Luke glanced at Jackson and then back at Chandler, "Do you need me to watch Rosemary also? I can't see them be seperated being good for anyone."

"No no, it's okay i've got her. She's an easy one, you know?" Chandler said patting Luke's back, "My sisters watching her anyway. Just couldn't take them both."

The next day Luke got the biggest shock of his life. WZPR News on the hour reported the death of Larissa Genrette, drowned with her infant son in what is being called a boating accident. Authorities are investigating the tragedy and searching for her infant daughter who was unknown to be on the boat or at home. 

Chandler showed up later that day, Luke was confused why he wouldnt want to tell Larissa's father that Jackson was alive and with Luke. Chandler argued that they'll take Jackson away from him, and that its best for him to stay with Luke - its whats best for the child. 

Luke was hesitant but Chandler threatened him, said he'd pay him. Luke pressed for answers on the other baby, Rosemary, but wasn't given any answers. Luke thought that maybe Jackson being allive would prevent Chandler from gaining any inhertince, he didn't know. He spent three years wondedring what happened to Rosemary Genrette and why Chandler brought just the one twin that night. 

Then, one night, when Jackson was five, WZPR News delivered another shock.

"Rosemary Genrette, presumed dead since the tragic boating accident five years ago, has been declared officially deceased. This declaration concludes the legal battle over the Genrette inheritance, which will now pass to Chandler Groff, the heartbroken widower."

After five years of her being her case was closed and Luke found himself opening his front door again. Chandler stood there a childs backpack in hand and a little blond girl scowling up at him.

"Mr. Groff are you hear to take Jackson back?"

"Luke, I can't deal with her anymore. I'll pay you double."  Chandler said, rubbing his eyebrow, "She talks so much and asks all these quetions."

"Who is that," Luke asked, confused, "Is that - fuck, they said she was missing for all these years. Is that... Rosemary?" Luke's voice trembled as he stared at the little girl standing at Chandler's side. Her big blue eyes, so much like Jackson's, were filled with anger and tears. She clutched a small, tattered backpack, looking defiant but scared.

"Yeah, yeah," Chandler said dismissively, waving his hand like it wasn't a big deal. "Turns out she wasn't missing. She's been with me this whole time. Figured it was easier to let people think she was gone, you know? Keeps the questions away."

Luke's stomach dropped, his voice rising with anger. "You had her this whole time? You let the world think she was dead? You Larissa's family go throught loosing her, Jackson who was alive this whole time, and then his twin sister is ubducted but eactually with you for five fucking years?"

Chandler shrugged, unbothered. "It was easier that way. Larissa's father would've turned it into a media circus, dragged her through the courts. She doesn't need that. I didn't need that."

Luke stepped closer, glaring at him. "You didn't need that? You didn't think for a second that maybe she needed a real chance? Hell, when you dumped Jackson on me years ago, you could've brought her too! Why didn't you just leave them both with me then? At least they could've grown up together!"

Chandler shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Luke's gaze. "It wasn't like that, alright? I couldn't handle both of them back then, and Larissa was already..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I thought Jackson would be easier to deal with. Rosemary... she was different, okay? She cried all the time, asked too many questions. My sister offered to help, and I thought it'd be fine."

"Fine?" Luke snapped. "You thought splitting up twins, letting the world think she was dead, was fine? You didn't even give me the choice! I would've taken them both, Chandler. I would've taken care of them together."

Chandler scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well, hindsight's 20/20, huh? Besides, you're doing fine with Jackson. You're great with kids. That's why I'm here—because I'm not. I can't do it anymore, Luke. She's too much."

Luke stared at him in disbelief. "Too much? She's a child, Chandler. Your responsibility. You're her Father for christs sake." 

"Yeah, and I'm done. She's your problem now." Chandler shoved the backpack into Luke's hands and motioned to the girl. "You'll be fine. Like I said, I'll pay you. Just... just keep her quiet. Don't let her ask questions, don't let her go digging into the past. It's better this way."

Luke looked down at Rosemary, who stood there silently, her lip trembling but her jaw set in defiance. He knelt to her level, his voice softening. "Rosemary, do you know who I am?"

She shook her head, her messy blonde hair falling into her face. "No," she whispered. Then, with a hint of sarcasm that made her seem far older than her years, she added, "Are you my new dad or something?"

Luke's heart broke at the bitterness in her voice. "No, sweetheart. I'm not your dad. But I'm going to take care of you, okay? You don't have to worry about anything anymore."

"Great," Chandler muttered from the doorway. "You two can bond or whatever. Just don't come knocking on my door. We clear?"

Luke stood, his expression hardening. "Crystal," he said through clenched teeth.

Chandler didn't wait for a response. He turned and walked away without so much as a glance back, leaving Rosemary standing on the porch. Luke shut the door and leaned against it, his mind racing.

"Who's that?" Jackson's voice came from the living room. He was sitting on the floor with his toy cars, his head tilted curiously.

Luke sighed, glancing down at Rosemary. She looked back at him, her expression guarded.

"That's your sister," Luke finally said, his voice steady. "Her name's Rosemary."

"Like the little girl from the stories?" Jackson's face lit up. "I have a sister?"

Rosemary stared at him for a moment, her scowl softening slightly. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I guess you do."

Jackson scooted over, holding out one of his cars. "You can have this one if you want," he said brightly.

Rosemary hesitated, then took the car, her small fingers brushing against his. "You have the same name as the baby."

Luke watched them, his heart aching. Chandler might've thought he could just dump his problems here and walk away, but Luke wasn't going to let Rosemary down—not like everyone else had.

For better or worse, she was his responsibility now. And he'd make damn sure she never felt abandoned again.

"I knew eventually he'd come back, but after a while I was hoping he wouldn't. I knew I was wrong." Luke said. 

MJ's voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes. "What happened to you, Luke? What happened to make you so cruel to kids that aren't even yours?"

Luke's jaw tightened, but he didn't look at her. Instead, he busied himself with pouring another glass of whiskey, his movements deliberate, controlled.

JJ stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "Yeah, what the hell, Dad? MJ's right. You've been a bastard our whole lives, and for what? For what?" His voice rose, shaking with anger.

Luke finally turned to face them, his expression dark. "You think you know everything, don't you? You think you've got it all figured out?" He pointed at JJ, his voice dripping with bitterness. "You don't know what it's like to have your life ripped out from under you. To be trapped in someone else's mess."

MJ wiped her eyes angrily. "That's not an excuse to take it out on us. On me! You had no right to treat us like garbage just because you hated Chandler or whatever he did to you!"

"Chandler?" Luke laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and sharp. "You don't know the half of it, kid. That man walked into my life with his lies and his schemes and left me holding the bag. You think I wanted this?" He gestured wildly around the room. "You think I wanted to raise someone else's kids while he walked away with his inheritance and his clean conscience?"

JJ stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "We didn't ask for any of this, Luke. You could've just said no. You could've walked away."

Luke's face twisted, his anger giving way to something more vulnerable, something closer to guilt. "And what? Leave you two to rot? Let Chandler throw you to the wolves, or worse, split you up for good?" He ran a hand through his graying hair. "I didn't want this. I didn't ask for this. But I couldn't let him ruin you. So yeah, I stayed. And maybe I screwed up along the way, but I stayed."

MJ's voice softened, though her tears kept falling. "You stayed, but you punished us for it. You didn't protect us, Luke. You made us feel like we were the burden. Like we didn't deserve to be here."

Luke looked at her, his eyes heavy with something unspoken, something close to regret. "You think it's that simple? You think I didn't care?"

JJ crossed his arms, his face hard. "You acted like you didn't care. Every damn day. You made us feel like nothing."

The room fell silent, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks outside the lighthouse the only noise. Luke opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, his shoulders slumping.

"I did the best I could," he said finally, his voice quieter now. "It wasn't enough. I know that. But I did what I thought I had to do to keep you safe."

MJ shook her head, her voice breaking. "Safe? You call what we went through safe? We weren't safe, Luke. We were scared. Of you, of everything."

Luke didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the floor.

JJ stepped closer to MJ, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We're not kids anymore, Luke. And you don't get to use your past as an excuse for what you did to us. You don't get to pretend you were some kind of hero."

Luke looked up at them, his face etched with years of wear and tear. "You're right," he said after a long pause. "I'm not a hero. I'm just a man who made a lot of mistakes. But I took you in when no one else would. I gave you a roof, food, a chance to grow up together."

MJ's voice was quiet but firm. "We needed more than that. We needed love. We needed you to care."

Luke didn't have an answer. The weight of her words hung in the air, pressing down on all of them.

JJ exhaled sharply, pulling MJ closer. "Come on, MJ. We're done here."

MJ hesitated, looking at Luke one last time. "I hope someday you figure out how to forgive yourself, Luke. But until then... I can't keep carrying this."

With that, she turned and walked toward the door with JJ at her side. Luke stayed where he was, staring at the glass of whiskey in his hand, the distant sound of the waves filling the empty silence of the lighthouse.

The rain had eased by the time JJ and MJ left the lighthouse, but the air still felt heavy, as if the storm had left its emotions behind. They walked in silence for a while, their footsteps crunching against the gravel of the path leading back to the truck. MJ kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her face blotchy from crying, though she tried to hide it.

JJ finally broke the silence as they reached the truck. "You good?" he asked, though his voice was softer than usual, lacking the usual bite of his sarcasm.

MJ hesitated, glancing at him before looking down at her boots. "I don't know. Are you?"

JJ sighed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair as he opened the driver's side door. "Not really," he admitted. "That was... a lot. Even for him."

MJ climbed into the passenger seat, staring out the window as JJ started the engine. "Do you think he meant it? When he said he did the best he could?"

JJ clenched his jaw as he backed out onto the road. "I don't know. Maybe he thought he did. Doesn't change the fact that his 'best' was trash."

They drove in silence for a while, the faint hum of the engine and the rhythmic swishing of the windshield wipers the only sounds. MJ fiddled with the hem of her hoodie, her thoughts spinning in a dozen directions.

"JJ," she said quietly, breaking the quiet.

"Yeah?"

"Can I... can I come with you? To the house?" Her voice was small, almost hesitant.

JJ glanced at her, his brows furrowing. "I guess. Yeah," he said finally, his voice low. "Yeah, you can come."

Relief washed over MJ's face, though tears still clung to her lashes. "Thanks, JJ."

He glanced at her again, this time with a faint, protective smile. "Hey, you're my twin. We're in this together, remember?"

She nodded, the smallest smile tugging at her lips. "Together."

By the time they reached the house, the sky was clear, stars beginning to peek through the fading clouds.

 Kiara was outside, tending to her small garden near the edge of the yard. The soil smelled rich from the rain, and she worked in silence, her hands digging into the earth. Gardening always calmed her, giving her something to focus on besides the chaos that came with being a Pogue.

She looked up when she heard the crunch of boots on gravel. JJ was stomping toward the house, his face set in a scowl, shoulders tense as if he were ready to explode. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his jaw clenched tight.

"JJ?" Kie called out, standing and brushing the dirt from her hands. "Hey, what's going on?"

JJ didn't answer. He didn't even slow down, his stormy expression making it clear he wasn't in the mood for conversation.

Kie frowned and stepped toward him. "Hey, don't ignore me," she said, her voice firm. "What's your problem—"

Then she saw her. MJ was walking a few paces behind JJ, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her hair was messy, her face pale, and her eyes red-rimmed from crying. She looked out of place, vulnerable in a way that made Kie's stomach twist.

"What is she doing here?" Kie's voice rose, her tone sharp.

JJ stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. "Not now Kie."

Kie's mouth fell open in shock. "What? JJ, are you serious? She's fucking Rafe."

"She's my sister," JJ snapped, stepping closer to Kie. "You got a problem with that?"

Kie blinked, taken aback by his sudden aggression. "No, but—JJ, she's... she's not exactly one of us."

MJ flinched at Kie's words, her gaze dropping to the ground. JJ noticed and immediately stepped in front of her, blocking her from Kie's view.

"You don't know shit about her," JJ said, his voice low and dangerous. 

Kie's lips pressed into a thin line as she crossed her arms. "And you didn't think to talk to any of us about this first? This isn't just your place, JJ."

"Don't start with me, Kie," MJ growled.

"Where have you even been, J?" Kie asked, her tone softening as she looked him over.

JJ rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. "Long story. Where are the others?"

"Almost here, why? What happened?"

"Nothing," MJ snapped, cutting in sharply before JJ could answer.

Kie raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing at MJ. "Don't lie to me, JJ," she said, ignoring MJ and focusing on her longtime friend.

JJ sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "Doesn't matter. It's just our dad."

Kie stiffened. "Oh shit, he's back?" she asked, starting to piece together why JJ might be upset.

"Yep. He's been holed up at Barracuda Mike's, I guess," JJ said, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he started pacing around the garden.

"Wait—he's not trying to come back here, right? He didn't say anything about this place being his, did he?"

MJ laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and cutting. "Are you fucking kidding me? That's your concern right now?"

Kie turned her glare on MJ. "It's a valid question. This place is all we've got, and—"

"And we've never had shit," MJ interrupted, stepping forward. "You think I care about your little hippie garden and your precious hangout spot? I'm trying to survive. JJ's trying to survive. But sure, let's worry about your safe space instead."

Kie opened her mouth to retort, but JJ cut in, his voice strained. "It wasn't about that. Look, just—forget the house for a second, okay? He told us we weren't his kids."

Kie's eyes widened in shock. "What? Are you serious?"

"Yeah," JJ said, his voice cracking slightly. "He told us we weren't his. And then he gave us these." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded letter, shoving it toward Kie. "Read it. It's from Wes Genrette."

Kie hesitated before taking the letter, her expression shifting from confusion to disbelief as she scanned the words. "It says... 'Talk to your father'?"

"And get this," JJ said, "Luke tells us Wes Genrette is-"

"Our grandfather," MJ answered coldly, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "According to Luke, anyway. Which makes Groff..." She trailed off, glaring at Kie as if daring her to finish the sentence.

"Makes Groff your dad," Kie said slowly, her voice laced with disbelief.

"Yeah, so if you could maybe cut us some fucking slack, that'd be great," MJ snapped, stepping closer to Kie. Her eyes were blazing, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger.

Kie bristled, straightening her posture. "Look, I get it, okay? This is heavy—"

"You don't get it," MJ cut her off. "You've had your perfect little family, your perfect little life, playing revolutionary while the rest of us were drowning. You don't get what it's like to find out your whole life's been a goddamn lie."

"That's not fair," Kie shot back, her voice rising. "You don't know anything about my life."

"Oh, please," MJ sneered. "Spare me the sob story about how hard it is to be a Kook-turned-Pogue. Try growing up with nothing—no money, no love, no safety. And now we find out the one thing we thought we had—a dad—was just another lie."

"Hey, hey," JJ interrupted, stepping between them. His voice was firm, but his eyes flicked nervously between the two girls. "Enough. Both of you."

MJ huffed, backing up a step but still glaring at Kie. "Whatever. I'm done talking." She turned and walked toward the house, her steps heavy with frustration.

Kie stared after her, then turned to JJ. "You're really letting her talk to me like that?"

JJ sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kie, just... don't. She's been through enough."

"And you haven't?" Kie asked, her voice softening again. "Are you seriously just going to let her talk to me like that? What the hell is her problem?!" Kie shouted, her voice shaking with anger.

That was it. JJ spun around, his face flushed, his blue eyes blazing with barely contained fury. "What's her problem? What's her problem? Are you fucking serious right now, Kie?"

Kie blinked, startled by the venom in his voice. "I'm just saying—"

"No, don't. Don't just say anything, Kie!" JJ yelled, taking a step closer to her. "You don't know shit about what we're going through, so stop acting like you have the right to judge us. You think this is easy? You think finding out the guy we called 'Dad' isn't even our fucking dad is something we're just gonna brush off?"

Kie's face paled, but she held her ground. "I'm not judging—"

"Yes, you are!" JJ snapped, cutting her off. "You've been judging MJ since the second you saw her. You don't like her, fine. Whatever. But don't act like she's the problem here. She's not the one who's been walking around like her shit doesn't stink!"

Kie's jaw tightened, her hands curling into fists. "That's not fair, JJ. I've been here for you every time—"

"Have you?" JJ shot back, his voice breaking slightly. "Because it sure as hell doesn't feel like it. You've been too busy worrying about your garden and your town council meetings to notice that my whole world's falling apart. And you don't get to sit here and act like you're some fucking saint when you've been side-eying MJ from the second she showed up."

"She's rude, JJ!" Kie argued, her voice rising. "She doesn't respect anyone—"

"She's angry, Kie!" JJ shouted, his voice echoing in the garden. "She's angry because she's been dealt a shit hand her entire life, and now she's finding out it's even worse than she thought. And you know what? I'm angry too. I'm fucking furious. But I don't have time to deal with your attitude on top of everything else!"

Kie flinched at the sheer force of his words. "I'm just trying to help—"

"Then fucking act like it!" JJ roared, his chest heaving. "Stop making this about you and your feelings and start being the friend I thought I could count on. Because right now? You're just making everything worse." JJ turned around and headed to the docks. 

"Bet you're happy to be an official kook," Kie said under her breath. 

MJ's sharp laugh echoed through the garden as she turned back toward Kie, the glint in her eyes cold and dangerous.

"Happy I'm officially a Kook?" MJ said, her voice low, venom dripping from every word. She took a slow, deliberate step closer to Kie, who stiffened but refused to back down. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Kie crossed her arms, her chin lifting in defiance. "I know exactly who you are. You're just like the rest of them. The money, the entitlement—"

"Entitlement?" MJ cut in, her tone like a razor slicing through the air. She took another step forward, her presence suffocating. "Let me tell you something, Kiara Carrera. You wouldn't last a day in my life. Not one. You've spent your entire existence playing at rebellion, pretending to be 'down with the Pogues' while living in your parents' cushy house, with your trust fund and your organic garden. Don't stand there and lecture me about entitlement when you wouldn't know real suffering if it punched you in the face."

Kie's jaw tightened, but MJ didn't stop. She wasn't even close to done.

"You think you're better than me?" MJ hissed, her voice rising slightly. "You think you're better than JJ because you've got two parents who actually give a damn about you? Because you can pick and choose when you want to be a Kook and when you want to be a Pogue? Newsflash, princess: I didn't get to choose. None of this was my choice. Not the lies, not the betrayal, not the years I spent living under the thumb of people who treated me like I was nothing. And now? Now I get to find out that my entire life has been a fucking lie. So forgive me if I don't give a single shit about your moral high ground."

"That's not fair—" Kie started, but MJ didn't let her finish.

"Fair?" MJ barked out a bitter laugh. "Do you know what's not fair? Watching your mom walk out the door and never look back only to find out she wasn't even your fucking mother. Your actual mother drowned. 

Do you know what's not fair? Watching your twin brother carry the weight of this entire shitty life on his shoulders because he doesn't think anyone else will. Do you know what's really not fair, Kie? Coming here, trying to find some semblance of family, only to be met with your judgmental, holier-than-thou bullshit."

Kie's face flushed red, but MJ wasn't done yet.

"You're the worst kind of hypocrite," MJ snarled. "You act like you're above the Kooks, like you're some beacon of morality, but deep down? You're just as shallow and judgmental as the rest of them. The only difference is that you're too much of a coward to admit it. You don't like me because I remind you of who you really are. I'm the mirror you're too scared to look into. And that terrifies you, doesn't it?"

Kie's mouth opened, but no words came out. MJ stepped closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"Here's the thing, Kie," MJ said, her tone icy. "I don't need your approval. I don't need your fake loyalty or your pity. And I sure as hell don't need you dragging JJ down with your passive-aggressive bullshit. He's been through enough without you adding to it."

MJ turned on her heel, her hair whipping around her as she walked away. She paused for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder.

"And for the record," MJ added, her voice cutting through the tense silence, "being a Pogue isn't about where you live or how much money you have. It's about loyalty. Something you clearly know nothing about." She paused for a moment, her gaze unwavering as she let the words sink in. "You think just because I'm a Kook now, that I've forgotten what really matters? That I've forgotten my brother? My loyalty has always been to him, always. I've been protecting him long before any of this — long before the money, long before the lies. That is what being a Pogue is really about. The rest of it? Just noise."

With a final glance, MJ turned and walked away, leaving Kie standing there, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

The twins sat on the old, worn-down docks, the salty breeze drifting through their hair, mingling with the faint smell of the ocean. JJ's hand trembled slightly as he passed the joint to MJ, who took it without hesitation. The moonlight glimmered off the water, but everything felt distant, out of reach — the sound of the waves crashing against the pylons below seemed muffled, like they were underwater, and the world around them was slowly fading into a hazy blur.

"Maybe this is what we need, y'know?" MJ mumbled, her voice thick and slow, as she blew out the smoke and leaned back on her palms, looking up at the sky. "I mean, what else is there to do?"

JJ let out a low, half-hearted laugh, though his eyes still looked a little lost. "I don't know... just... forget about all the shit, I guess."

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the distant chatter of the wind and the occasional creak of the old wood beneath them. MJ's mind drifted, but she couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at her. As much as she tried to numb everything with the smoke, the thoughts of what they had just learned — about their father, about their past — kept slipping through the cracks.

 MJ leaned back on the wood, feeling the vibrations of the ocean beneath her. Her head swam in a cloud of thoughts, too overwhelming to sort through. She was tired — of the lies, of the questions, of this whole damn town. But right now, it was just her and JJ, and for the first time in days, they weren't fighting the storm inside them. They were just... existing.

JJ's eyes were glassy, but he seemed a little more relaxed than before. He looked out at the water, his fingers playing with the edges of his shirt. "I used to think we could just get away from all this, y'know? Just... run. But now..." He trailed off, his voice small.

MJ didn't have an answer for him. She took another drag from the joint, passing it back to him without a word. She couldn't run. They both knew that. No matter how far they went, they were always tied to this place. Tied to the secrets, to the lies, to the mess that was their family.

"I don't know how we're gonna fix all this," MJ finally said, the words heavier than she meant them to be.

JJ shrugged. "Maybe we don't. Maybe we just live with it."

MJ took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything press down on her chest. The soft buzz of her phone in her pocket reminded her of the world she couldn't fully escape, but for a few moments, she had been free—just her and JJ, letting the night pass without the usual chaos.

She stood up, her legs unsteady, as she glanced at JJ. "I should go home," she said quietly, voice tinged with the exhaustion she hadn't been able to admit until now.

JJ gave a small nod, eyes still clouded with something between exhaustion and frustration. "You're gonna tell him, aren't you?"

MJ didn't respond right away. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling the weight of her decision as if it were a thousand pounds. She wanted to lie, to pretend it wasn't happening, but the truth was already there, sitting between them. It was time to face it—time to face Rafe.

"I love him, JJ," she said, voice soft but certain. "I trust him. I'm not sure about everything else, but I trust him. And that's where I have to start."

JJ's expression hardened, the familiar walls going back up, but his voice was surprisingly calm. "I don't trust him. Not with you, not with your brother. Hell, not with anyone." His gaze flickered to the ground for a moment before he met her eyes again. "But if you trust him, then I'll try. For you."

She looked at him, her heart heavy with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. JJ was always there, always looking out for her, always willing to fight. But this was a fight he didn't want to be a part of. And part of her understood why.

"I don't expect you to trust him, not after everything," MJ said quietly. "But... I need you to try. Just for me, okay?"

JJ didn't say anything at first, just watched her with a mixture of caution and concern, before nodding slowly. "I'll try. But don't make me regret it."

MJ gave him a small, bittersweet smile, touched by the raw honesty in his voice. "I won't."

With one last lingering look at her brother, she turned to leave, her mind already back on the conversation she would have with Rafe. The thought of facing him, of dealing with the truth, was daunting, but she knew it was the only way forward.

────

MJ stepped through the door, her feet dragging, every step heavier than the last. The house felt too quiet, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something. Her stomach twisted as she heard the soft sound of movement coming from the kitchen. She could feel the tension already building, her heart pounding in anticipation of whatever confrontation or conversation waited inside.

When she rounded the corner, she found him standing there—Rafe, leaning against the counter in gray sweatpants and a hoodie.He didn't notice her right away, and for a moment, she just stood there, watching him, her heart aching in a way she couldn't explain.

Then, as if drawn by some invisible force, she took a step forward—and then another. And before she could stop herself, MJ was in his arms, her face pressed into his chest, hot tears streaming down her face.

Rafe's arms tightened around her, the initial shock of her sudden breakdown quickly replaced by a gentle, steadying grip. "Rosemary? What's wrong?" His voice was soft, his hand moving to the back of her head, running through her hair in soothing strokes.

"I—I don't know where to start," she gasped, her breath hitching in between sobs. "It's about Chandler. About everything."

"Chandler?" His brow furrowed, but he didn't pull away. "What about him?"

"He's... he's my real father, Rafe," she whispered through her tears, barely able to get the words out. "Luke isn't my dad. Chandler Groff is. And he's been lying to me... lying to us. He hid me for five years... then gave me to Luke because he couldn't deal with me. He just... gave me away like I didn't matter."

Rafe went still, his body rigid with shock, but his hands never left her. "Wait... what? Chandler Groff?"

MJ nodded, her voice shaking. "Yeah. All those years I spent thinking Luke was my dad, it was all a lie. Chandler had me hidden away... like I was some kind of secret. I didn't even know about him. I didn't know he was the one who did this. I thought I was just a messed-up kid... but he never even tried to be my father. He just tossed me to Luke."

Rafe's expression twisted with disbelief and anger, his grip tightening around her. "He gave you away like that? Just left you with Luke, without even saying anything? What the hell is wrong with him?" His voice was low and filled with fury, but MJ could tell it was more for her than for anyone else.

"I don't even know anymore," she sobbed, her body trembling. "And now... now I don't know who to trust. Everything's shattered, Rafe. I don't know how to fix it. I thought I had everything figured out, but... I didn't even know who my real father was. I've been living a lie, and I don't know how to deal with it."

Rafe's hands cupped her face gently, forcing her to look at him. His eyes softened with something that felt almost like regret, but his voice was steady, full of reassurance. "You don't have to deal with this alone, MJ. You've got me. You've always had me." His thumb brushed away a tear from her cheek. "I know this is a lot, but I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together, okay? You don't have to carry all of this on your own."

She leaned into him, seeking solace in his presence, but the words still weighed heavy on her chest. "I just... I don't want to lose you, too. I've already lost so much... I don't know what to do with all this."

Rafe's grip on her tightened, his face inches from hers, his voice quiet but firm. "You won't lose me, MJ. I'm not going anywhere. Whatever happens, I'm here. You can trust me, okay?"

 MJ's grip tightened around Rafe's arms as the weight of the truth came crashing down on her once again. Her voice broke as she spoke, still trying to make sense of the twisted web Chandler had created, a web she had been caught in for so long.

"Chandler lied to everyone, Rafe. He gave JJ to Luke, just like he gave me to him. He told everyone I was dead—he lied about everything. The baby boy... with Larissa Genrette? He didn't drown like they said. He's alive. Chandler told the cops his sister had the baby girl and that she was abducted... that she was gone. But that's not true either. He had me hidden, kept me away from everyone, because I was too much for him, Rafe. Just like JJ. He couldn't deal with us, so he lied and made everything worse."

Rafe's expression shifted, fury creeping into his eyes as he processed her words. "Wait—what do you mean? He didn't just lie about the boy. He lied about you being gone. He—he had you hidden away for five years?" He clenched his jaw, as if the idea of anyone being treated like that made him sick.

"I—I didn't know, Rafe. I don't remember any of it, Luke said there was a fire when we where little and the box of my baby stuff got burnt." MJ's voice broke, her breath shallow as the tears started again, threatening to overwhelm her. Rafe stepped back, rubbing his temples as he tried to make sense of it all. 

Rafe's hand found her cheek, his thumb brushing over the tears that fell. His voice was low, but the intensity in his eyes was unyielding. "I'll make sure he pays for what he did to you. To both of you." There was a dangerous edge to his words, a promise that whatever was left of Chandler Groff wouldn't escape without consequences. "No one treats my family like that. No one."

MJ let out a shuddering breath, shaking her head slowly. "I don't even know if I want to deal with him, Rafe. I just... I don't know how to feel anymore. What he did to us—what he did to me—it's all too much."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, MJ," Rafe said softly. "But just know that whatever happens, I've got you. And I'll make sure you're safe. You're not alone in this. Not now, not ever." He pulled her into a tight embrace again, letting her bury her face against his chest.

MJ clung to him, still trembling with the weight of everything she had just learned. But for the first time in days, she found herself taking solace in Rafe's words. Whatever else happened, she had him by her side. And maybe that was enough—for now.

"Thank you," she whispered against his chest, her voice small, but filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," Rafe murmured back, his voice steady and sure, as he held her close, determined not to let her go.

MJ pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, her voice still shaky but growing steadier with every word she spoke. "You know... when I was younger, before all of this, I used to get in trouble at school because I'd tell people Luke wasn't my dad. I never knew who he really was to me, but I knew he wasn't my father. Not really. And they'd get so mad at me for it. I didn't even understand why they cared, but I knew something didn't add up. I just felt like... like I was living a lie."

Rafe's expression softened as he listened, his hand gently brushing her hair back from her face. "You were just trying to figure it out, MJ. You had no idea what you were dealing with. You were just a kid."

"I know," she whispered, voice faltering again. "But every time I'd say something like that, they'd call me a troublemaker, say I had issues... They didn't know what I was going through. They didn't know about Chandler or Luke or all the bullshit they put me through. All the pretending. And I didn't know how to stop it. So I just kept saying it, hoping maybe it would make sense to someone, anyone."

Rafe shook his head, a sad, almost incredulous smile tugging at his lips. "People like that, they don't see the real picture. They don't see the shit that happens behind closed doors. But that was never your fault, MJ. You were just telling the truth, even when it was hard for you to understand it."

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, the truth. What truth? The truth that Luke wasn't my dad and I didn't know who my real father was? The truth that I've been kept in the dark my whole damn life?"

"I get it. I do," Rafe said, his tone softening as he reached out to cup her face in his hands. "But that wasn't your fault. None of this is. You didn't deserve any of it. And I'm sorry... so sorry you had to go through all that alone."

MJ nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she tried to hold it together, but it was hard. It was all too much. "I just... I just wanted to know who I was, Rafe. I wanted to know where I came from. And now... now everything's just broken."

"You're not broken, MJ," he said firmly, his eyes intense. "You're stronger than anyone knows. You've been through hell, and you're still standing. And no matter who your father is, no matter what Chandler or Luke did, you're not defined by them. You define yourself. And you've got me. And you've got JJ. You've got the people who care about you, and that's all that matters."

"I don't even know who I am anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"You're MJ," Rafe said, his voice steady, his hands gently cupping her face. "You're the girl who's been through hell and back. And that's enough. That's who you are."

She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his words sink in. 

MJ's eyes brimmed with tears again, her voice breaking as she spoke, "We went through so much, Rafe. All that abuse... all that pain. And for what? For nothing." She let out a shaky breath, wiping her eyes furiously. "Luke... Luke wasn't even our real dad. And Chandler... he just hid us away for years like we were some kind of secret. And for what? Just for some messed up inheritance game? For a power trip?"

Rafe's jaw tightened at the thought of what she and JJ had been put through. His hands instinctively gripped her arms as he stepped closer, his voice low but full of conviction. "That's not your fault, MJ. You didn't ask for any of that. You didn't deserve any of it."

"I know," she choked out, the pain of it all overwhelming her. "But it doesn't change the fact that we were just pawns in their game. And now... now I feel like all those years we spent in that hell—just surviving, just trying to get by—were for nothing. Like it was all pointless."

Rafe's heart ached for her, the depth of her pain hitting him hard. He pulled her into his arms again, holding her tightly, as if he could protect her from the weight of it all. "It wasn't for nothing," he murmured into her hair. "You survived. You fought. And look at you now. You're still here. You're still standing. And you've got people who care about you. People who love you. People who will fight for you. Don't you dare think it was for nothing."

"I don't know if I can keep going like this," she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. "I don't know if I can keep pretending it's okay."

"You don't have to pretend with me," Rafe said softly, his hands rubbing her back. "You don't have to be strong all the time. You've been carrying this weight for so long, MJ. Let me help you carry it. Let me help you find a way out of this."

"I don't know where to even start," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion.

Rafe pulled back slightly, just enough to look her in the eyes. "We start by not letting them win. We start by taking control of your story, your life, and not letting them keep you in the dark. You're not alone in this, MJ. I'm here. And I'll help you figure out the rest."

She looked at him for a long moment, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, the determination.

────

authors note:

get ready for a massive crash out from mj - I'm talking the start of the book pouge, juvy, wreckless mj.