Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
chapter thirty-eight pogue style.
•+•+•+•+
"dude, where is he?" kiara shouts with a frustrated huff pacing back and forth anxiously on the dock where the four pogues were meant to meet john b over an hour ago.
"give him a second." pope rolls his eyes at her anxiousness taking the cooler out of the trunk of hannah's jeep and passing it to jj. "he'll be here."
the blonde nods his head taking the container from his friends hand and placing it with the rest of the boxes on the boat, "he's coming. he'll be fine." he assures her letting a tired sigh leave his lips as his eyes wandered to his girlfriend.
hannah hadn't said a single word to anyone since they left the warehouse for two reasons.
one, the assault from rafe cameron left her throat and voice completely hoarse to the point where it felt like her throat was on fire every time she tried to speak.
and two, after the altercation with the cameron boy she was left in complete and utter shock as to what he did to her and her friends.
hannah had known rafe for more than half her life, probably better than most people knew him.
yet after all the unspoken history and secrets the two shared between each other, she never thought he'd get physically violent with her.
while her friends prepared the phantom for john b and sarah, hannah sat on the steps of the boat staring at the sun beginning to set and thinking about everything that's transpired in the past 48 hours.
"hey," jj says kneeling down to her level so their eyes could meet, taking one of her hands in his own, "you with us?"
his voice snapped her out of the trance she was in as she became in touch with reality again.
hannah slowly nods her head in response, "i'm with you." she replies lowly with a small smile, the discomfort in her throat slowly beginning to subside.
the maybank boy frowns a bit at the feeble attempt she was making to pretend like she was fine.
his eyes fell to her neck where bruises had already began forming where rafe's hands were wrapped around her throat less than an hour ago.
"does it still hurt really bad?" he asks pushing her hair over her shoulders while running his finger tips delicately over the blue and purple marks that adorned her neck.
