𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 | jj maybank

VI. Your Move, Broski!

Pope nodded in support. "We gotta go dark."

"If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree," JJ stated with a nod, taking another hit from his vape.

John B, who was sitting on the other side of Pope, shook his head. "I don't agree," he said, causing his friends to look over at him. At the confused expressions he was receiving, he continued, "Stella's right—"

"Usually am," she shrugged. There was a moment of silence before she waved a hand at John B. "Sorry, continue."

John B shook his head at her before doing as she said. "Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White? Just sayin'."

The other four teenagers shared a look, two of which were impressed, one of which was annoyed, and the final being confused.

"So you think he was tied up in something bigger?" Pope asked, searching for clarification.

"Think about it. How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?"

Pope inhaled sharply. "Prostitution."

"Square groupers, bro. Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane." John B leaned forward and pointed at JJ. "What does that mean, JJ?"

"They were straight smugglin'," JJ answered, tossing his vape to Stella who caught it with ease.

John B nodded in agreement. "And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."

"Which affects us how?" Stella questioned. She could understand wanting to keep the money, but what she didn't get was why John B was so concerned with the drugs the ship was smuggling.

He offered her nothing but an arrogant grin. "It's all a part of the bigger picture, Stel."

They moved to John B's bedroom, deciding that this wasn't something they should discuss out in the open. John B sat on the windowsill with Kie next to him, Pope was perched on the bed with his back against the head rest, and Stella was sitting at the end of the bed with JJ sitting on a chair in front of her.

"For the record," Pope started, "if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on the inside of it, it probably belongs to someone else."

Kie shrugged. "Minor details."

"They could come looking for it," Stella reminded. "If the boat is someone else's, taking it would be stupid. We'd just be painting a target on our backs."

JJ leaned forward and placed his hands on her knees. "Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time, Stella-Anne." He gave her a charming look and smiled when she sighed in defeat. He reached over and took the wad of cash out of Pope's hands. "All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we lay low. Just act normal."

"Right," Pope sighed. "And how exactly do we do that?"

A mischievous look spread across Kie's face and with a smirk, she suggested, "Kegger?"

IT TOOK THE group less than an hour to get the party set up.

This time, the party was going to take place at the Boneyard—a part of the beach littered with fallen trees and driftwood. It was a better venue and provided the space for a larger capacity of partygoers. And unlike their previous party, Kooks were allowed. The bigger the party, the lower they laid, which was exactly what they wanted.