Outer Banks (JJ Maybank x Female Reader) Book 3

The Quest

"Yeah, we lost the others. Keep searching," The biggest officer says into his radio, his heavy accent making him hard to understand. I sit in the back of the truck, drenched and panting. I swallow hard, glad that nobody else was caught. I look around wildly, searching for a way to escape. Portis walks up to me, a towel around his shoulders. "I saved your life!" I hiss angrily, my breath shaking from the cold. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," He pleads. "I'm gonna try to help you, okay?" He says. 

"I swear, I didn't know it was gonna be like this," He says, his eyes pleading as I continue shaking, glaring at him. "Look, if you don't fight, if you just do what they say, these guys prob... probably, won't hurt you," He exhales shakily. "What did Ward promise you?" I hiss. "Who?" He asks, his face pure confusion. "Hey, just take my advice, do what they say," He nods as I look him, surprised. "Good luck," He nods, walking away. A huge man climbs into the bed of the truck across from me, his face an angry glare. 

"Alright, let's go," He calls to the guard driving the car. I bite my lip, realizing that this might be a lot bigger than just Ward. 

~~~~~~

I watch nervously as we pull down a long drive, stopping at a wide gate with more guards, huge guns and guard dogs in their hands. It takes less than a minute for them to suspect the truck, the dogs sniffing and searching. "Alright, let them in," One guard finally grumbles. We pull through the gate, continuing down the long driveway. Fields spread out on all sides, more guards, dogs, and watchtowers spread throughout them. I swallow, wondering who the hell is behind all of this. 

The truck finally stops at a large white mansion and a guard yanks me from the truck, dragging me through a gate and up the front steps to a wide porch wrapping around the entire house, covered in more guards. He pulls open the front door where a women stands, her maid attire making her position clear. He shoves me through the door, following close behind and locking the door behind us. 

I look glance inside the rooms we pass, catching glimpses gold and silver artifacts encased in glass coverings. "Take her upstairs, the Orinoco room," The housekeeper orders another guard at the bottom of the stairs. "This the way," He hisses, grabbing my arm harshly. "Up," He commands, shoving me up the stairs. "Inside," He demands, shoving me into the first room we come to. I look around the large room. An enormous white bed with beautiful curtains takes up most of the space. "Why am I here? Who are you working for?" I plead nervously to the guard. 

"Dinner at eight," He hisses. "I'd clean up," He snarls, taking in my appearance. "Just tell me what they want!" I shout as he slams the door in my face, locking it behind him. I rattle the doorknob, but it's no use. I inhale sharply, clutching the ring around my neck as I search the room. I run for the windows first, carefully sliding the curtains open. All I see are the guards pacing the porch. I turn again, coming face to face with a wide wooden closet, multiple sizes of the same dress hanging inside. I pluck the note from the first dress.

PICK YOUR SIZE is written largely in all uppercase across the paper. 

~~~~~~

The knock on the door comes exactly when the clock on my wall hits eight. I spring up from my position on the bed, dropping the ring around my neck back down, where it lays still, perfectly contrasting with the red dress snug around my body. "He's ready," The housekeeper says as I practically jump off the bed, smoothing the dress down. I follow her back down the stairs, keeping Portis' advice in my mind. 

She leads me down a hallway and motions through an open door. A tall man stands at the end of the room, his back towards me as he pours himself a drink. "Um, excuse me?" I mutter. I'm shocked when Rafe turns around to face me, his hair buzzed to his head. "No, I knew you and Ward were behind this shit," I snarl, stepping forward to face him angrily. 

"What are you talking about? You trying to weasel in on my deal?" Rafe asks angrily as he walks toward me, seemingly just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. "Is that what's going on?" He practically spits, standing barely a foot away from me now. "I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know?" An unfamiliar voice echoes from next to us. We both turn to see a man in a gray tuxedo, pouring himself a drink in the adjoining room. 

He turns to face us, chuckling to himself. "Who are you?" Rafe voices my thoughts. He scratches his scraggly back beard as he walks towards us, pointing a ringed finger at himself. "Me?" He asks. "My name is Carlos Singh," He says calmly, folding his hands in his pockets. He points his finger at Rafe. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Cameron," He says with a smile. "And Ms. Routledge, I do apologize for the rough tactics in bringing you here," He says apologetically. I don't remove the confused glare from my face. 

"But please, come," He says, gesturing towards the large dining table behind him. "Sit down," He nods. I take a deep breath, watching him carefully. "Come now, I don't bite," He says. I exchange a harsh glance with Rafe before following him to the table. "Rough tactics. What about me?" Rafe asks as he follows. "Yes, Mr. Cameron. False pretenses," Singh says as he pours another drink. "But, the ends justify the means, I'm afraid," He says, turning to face us.  

"Sit down," He tells him. "We have a lot to talk about," He says. I sit carefully at the table, keeping my face composed and expressionless. "Why are we here?" I ask calmly, but with a voice that demands an answer. "Well, Ms. Routledge, Mr. Cameron, we share certain interests, you know. Objectives," Singh says. "Is this not about the cross?" Rafe asks, dropping his head to his hands in a stressed manner as I glare at him. 

"It is," Singh grins, pointing a wild finger at Rafe. "Tangentially, it is about the cross, but it's about something much, much bigger than the cross," He says with a grin, walking across the room to stand in front of a painting. "By orders of magnitude... the completion of a grand quest," He says with wonder. I narrow my eyes in confusion, looking between Rafe and Singh. "You see, the story goes that 450 years ago, a Spanish soldier came out of the Orinoco Basin with a few gold beads," He starts explaining, turning back to us. 

"And when they asked the Spanish soldier where the beads came from the Spanish soldier replied that he got them from a peaceful Indigenous tribe who lived in a city of gold," Singh says, sweeping his hand across the room in awe. "El Dorado," He grins. I narrow my eyes again, thinking. That name sounds so familiar. "And for the next 450 years, people tried to find that gold, you know," He says, crossing the room to a small box on a desk. "They tried," He says, picking up a small blade. "Conquistadors, knights, captains of ships, tribes, entire nations," He says, turning back to us.

"All fighting each other, in a race for the end of the rainbow," He says, his accent thick. "Thousands of lives, laid on the pyre of gold fever," He says, sweeping his hand across the room while my mind races to keep up. "And it falls to me, you know," He continues. "It falls to me to complete the task," He says. This is a bunch of bullshit. "To bring full circle a quest that has gone on for almost 500 years," He says. "Perhaps... perhaps the greatest quest in the history of the western hemisphere, you know," He grins. Rafe nods his head sarcastically, echoing my thoughts once again. 

"And you two...," He grins, pointing at each of us with his knife. "You two are going to play a part in that," He chuckles happily. Rafe purses his lips, still nodding. I look at him warily. "What about you, Ms. Routledge... are you interested in history?" He asks, sitting down. "I'm more of a future person," I mutter sarcastically. "Yeah, I didn't listen to a word you said, okay? How much you gonna keep philosophizing?" Rafe groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"You are direct aren't you, Mr. Cameron?" Singh chuckles. The two of them stare at each other, neither one willing to break it. "What do you need from me?" I mutter tiredly, pursing my lips together. "I've come to believe that you and your friends are in possession of something that can help me get what I want," He says, turning to me. I shake my head slightly, frowning. "Which is?" I ask. "An old manuscript," He says. "A diary, actually," He says, glancing at the table. Rafe turns to look at me curiously but I keep my eyes on Singh, swallowing nervously.