Tidal Waves |outer banks|

viii. Katherine Scott, jealous?

For as long as Katherine could remember, she used her wit as her ultimate secret weapon. She was a lot smarter than others gave her credit for, but that made it all the easier to manipulate them.

Sneaking out with JJ sounded like a horrible idea on the surface. Not for the fact that getting caught with a Pogue was practically social suicide, because Katherine couldn't possibly care less about that, but because JJ was the embodiment of trouble. However, looking in, it was a brilliant idea. She wanted in on the stupid little treasure hunt and she knew that her key in was through the Maybank boy.

A coy grin spread on her lips as she followed him through the window. She quietly slid it shut behind her. "Where to," she hummed looking up at him. The light from the full moon was the only way she was able to see the surprise written across his face.

JJ had known of Katherine for the better part of his life. From the outside looking in, she seemed to be like all of the stuck up asshole Kooks that resided on Figure Eight. Hanging out with her had never appealed to him. He was certain that aside from her smokin' hot body, that she had nothing more that would interest him. But then he met her.

He could try to convince himself that sticking around her was strictly covert op to get more information on the gold, but, while that was partially true, it wasn't exactly the full truth. "My bikes right up the street." He nodded his head in the direction and led her away from the large house. Katherine peaked an eyebrow at the mention of a bike, but she didn't protest.

They rounded the block, coming across a red dirt bike with various stickers sitting against a curb. "You're serious," she deadpanned, watching him closely as he mounted the bike. "No way in hell I'm getting on that thing."

JJ looked over at her with a smirk and she knew he was about to say something to piss her off. "Scared, Angel?" If the condescending tone in his voice wasn't what annoyed her enough, the use of that stupid nickname sure was.

"Fuck off," she muttered, internally battling herself. "I can't believe I'm doing this." She shook her head in utter disbelief, before climbing on the back of the dirt bike. "Slow, JJ." She wrapped her arms around his torso, having no choice but to breath in the scent of saltwater that JJ smelled of. It was almost comforting—if she wasn't on the back of a death machine.

Under different circumstances he would've gassed it immediately, but the real and true fear in her voice made him decide against it.

Despite his rather slow speed, Katherine still had a death grip around his torso and her face buried in his back. The only recreational vehicle she'd ever been on, aside from a boat, was a jet-ski and that felt nothing like this.

JJ hit one of the holes in the road that became more prominent the deeper they got into the cut and a small squeal interrupted her previous silence. Her hands gripped his shirt tightly, as though he was the only thing keeping her atop the bike.

"We're almost there," he assured her. He attempted to be more mindful when it came to the imperfections of the road.

Katherine had absolutely no idea where JJ was taking her. Her eyes were squeezed together so tightly it was almost dizzying. She was sure JJ could feel the fast paced thudding of her heart against his back, but she couldn't possibly care less.

There was a small part of her brain that was attacking her silently, telling her that she wasn't cut out for adventure and that she would be far better off walking back to her sheltered life where the only risk she took was switching tanning lotions when hers was sold out.

She forced that part of her brain quiet. She refused to continue to listen to what everyone else truly thought of her—that the only thing extraordinary about her was the amount of money she had. Money was power, but it wasn't everything.