CHAPTER NINE
[9]
song: ugly ending by best frenz
Cassie was deep into some cheap, tattered book she'd found at her house the morning prior. She was reading the words, yet processing none of them. It was a meditative state, her mind held up elsewhere as her eyes focused on the pages in front of her. Cuddled up in a hammock, hung on the bannisters of the garage at The Chateau, she sat opposite Kiara, who strummed a quiet tune on an ukulele. Besides them was JJ, waxing his board, and Pope, who was rewiring an old fan to get it work again.
"You wanna surf today?" JJ spoke.
When no one else responded, Cassie realized it was her he asked. She leaned up, lazily letting her head fall to the side of the hammock to face him. "Not really."
JJ looked disappointed, but at least he'd tried. The mood was down. Had been all morning, had been for a few days now. How could it not be? All four of them hanging out at John B's house without John B.
"Kie?" JJ asks next.
Kiara doesn't look up from her ukulele as she tuned it by ear. "Too hot."
JJ looks up at Pope and gives him a look. "Yes, that's why you get in the water."
Kiara shrugs it off.
"That's a lot of wax on your board." Pope says, gesturing towards JJ before returning to his own task. "Put too much and it's gonna be slippery."
"Are you telling me how to wax my board Pope?" JJ asks.
"No, I'm just saying that's a lot of wax—"
"No, no, no, you're telling me how to wax my board—"
"Can we go back to twenty seconds ago when no one was speaking?" Cassie groans, closing her eyes and letting the book fall onto her chest.
"I'm just saying, that's a colossal waste of wax." Pope shrugs.
A car honks.
And then everyone is silent, everyone is still, as they wait to hear if the sound they just thought they'd heard, was real.
"Did you hear that?" JJ asks.
A car honks again.
But not just any car.
In between the trees busts out the old, rusty van, with chipped paint and broken windows, charms dangling from the mirror, plastered with old stickers, and in the front seat is John B.
"What the hell?" Was the collective reaction, as everyone got to their feet and rushed over to the van.
"Guess who's out the clink boy!" John B yells excitedly as he gets out of the driver's seat.
"No freaking way, man!"
"Are you serious?!"
The five collided into a rough hug, one made up of sweat and the smell of outdoors. Cassie felt someone patting the back of her head like a dog, but with the tangle of bodies she couldn't tell who it was.
They pulled away. "How'd you do it?!" JJ shakes his head, confused. "You bust out?!"
John B shrugs a bit. "Uh— they dropped the charges."
"They dropped the charges." Pope repeats, shocked.
"That's amazing." Kiara lets out.
"So you're telling me, I did all that work for nothing?" JJ says, referring to his poorly-executed break-John-B-out-of-jail plan.
But Cassie kept her eyes on John B, trying to read the situation further. "They just dropped the charges? Like— all of them?" She asked. "Case closed?"
"Yeah, I mean—" John B's eyes dart around the group and his smile starts to fade. "Where's Sarah?"
Everyone quiets down. It's been radio silence on Sarah's side since last night, no texts, no calls, and her location hasn't updated.
He knew something was wrong. "No, no. Where's Sarah?" He asks again.
Kiara takes the liberty to answer when no one else did. "She went to go meet Wheezie last night. She didn't come back."
John B looked worried, and rightfully so. In this state of things, on this island right now, someone saying 'she didn't come back' lead you to think of the worst possible outcomes.
"She probably just slept at her house." Pope suggests.
John B shakes his head. "The police are raiding that place right now—"
"What?" Cassie narrows her eyebrows slightly. "Why?"
She earns a glance from JJ and Kiara, and she realized she probably sounded more concerned than the conversation made for. She relaxes her shoulders, awaiting John B's response.
He shrugs. "They're going after Ward. And Rafe. Finally got enough evidence chalked up to convict them."
Cassie didn't like how quickly her mind became occupied with the thought of him. She didn't like how her initial reaction was worry, and not the thought of 'he had it coming.' The feeling was there, sure, but with it, a sort of guilt she didn't quite understand.
The thought of seeing him on her porch, only the day before, so desperate and confused, grasping at straws, and now, finally getting arrested for crimes she knew he commit. She knew this. She knew he had it coming. But still, there was a small part of her that wished when John B said the charges were dropped, it meant they were dropped on everyone.
Did it make her a bad person? Was she a bad person for wanting a killer to get away with the crime? She felt like one. She felt like one, standing here, with her friends, who found joy in this, where she found only guilt.
"We'll go get her. We'll take the boat." John B starts, making his way to the docks through his front yard.
Cassie lingered in her spot for a few moments, before following the rest of the crew through the yard. Kiara was waiting up for her, confused by the blonde's shift in tone. "You good?" Kiara asks, beginning to walk again after Cassie joined her at her side.
Cassie looks at her, then nods. "What? Yeah. I'm good." She shrugs it off casually, like Kiara's question had come out of nowhere.
"So, Sarah just dips, and doesn't call?" John B says, starting to pull the ropes off the dock, tossing them into the boat.
"Yeah, she just leaves her bags. Doesn't tell anybody." Pope shrugs, stepping into the boat.
"She didn't talk to either of you?" John B turns around, glancing at the two girls who were the last to join them at the boat.
"She got here really late. Cas and I were like half asleep, and then she just steps outside one second and then doesn't come back." Kiara shrugs. "Said something about Wheezie, that's all I know."
"Okay, I— I really think Ward got to her." John B says, clearly worried, as he frantically unties the boat from the dock. "I mean, the dude tried to have me killed in jail."
Everyone stops to look at him, confused.
"What?" Kiara says, stepping into the boat next.
"Yeah. I mean— he sent somebody out to the prison who yoked me up and tried to kill me." He motioned to his throat as he spoke.
JJ and Cassie exchange a quick glance before he speaks. "Do you know who it was?"
"No, I have no idea." John B says annoyedly, finally getting into the boat. "I swear to god though, one day I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch."
"It's okay." Kiara says.
"No, Kie, it's not okay we gotta find Sarah." John B says, stepping over to the captain's chair.
"No, I mean it's literally okay— she's right there." Kiara points forward and everyone turns around.
Approaching them was a much nicer fishing boat, one that, in its surroundings, stuck out like a sore thumb, and even moreso, the one driving the boat. Topper Thornton, in his perfectly pressed button up shirt, and khaki shorts, and in the back of the boat, is Sarah.
"John B?" She stands from the boat excitedly.
He, however, did not look as excited. For someone who was previously just losing his shit at the idea of her being missing, he looked somewhat upset.
"What the hell is she doing with Topper?" Kiara mumbles.
And that was why. Cassie was in clear need of a refresher, as she'd forgotten about Sarah and Topper's past.
"Oh my god, he's out!" Sarah says, her smile wide as she barely let Topper's boat come to a slow before she was climbing off the side into John B's.
Cassie's eyes lingered on topper, disappointment crawling over his face, one that he quickly tried to mask as he sent a smile in Cassie's direction. "Hey." He nodded.
Cassie returned the smile, though hesitant. "Hey."
Sarah and John B hugged, and when she pulled away she asked what happened, to which he explained that they dropped all the charges, to which she said 'that's amazing!'
"But, hey, Sarah—" John B starts, shaking his head. "They're coming after Rafe."
"Good, he's completely unhinged." Sarah says.
There was no hesitation in her voice. No side to her that felt any sort of sympathy for her brother, she was relieved to hear this.
"He jumped me last night." She adds. "That's why I didn't come back."
A series of 'what''s rang out from the group, and Cassie just wanted to bury her face into her palms.
"Yeah, man. Rafe has completely lost his mind, literally almost drowned his own sister. Thankfully I got there... just in time." Topper says, eyeing John B.
"He tried to drown you?" Cassie leaned forward, getting Sarah's attention.
Sarah glances to her side, sending Cassie a disappointed nod.
Cassie felt sick, and even more guilty than before. She needed to get her priorities straight, get her head screwed back on— anything that would snap her out of this little continuous loop of guilt, and shame, and confusion.
She knew she was digging herself back into a hole she didn't want to be in, not again. She'd almost relapsed the day before, and she wasn't sure exactly what the reasons were there, but she just felt it. She felt it weighing down on her chest the moment she came back from Kitty Hawk.
The conversation continued, and she glanced up and around to her friends, all of them exchanging little knowing glances as Topper continued on. And they sat here, in old, dirty clothes, in a run-down fishing boat, off the dock of a house that looked like it was one strong breeze from collapsing.
And Topper, he stood there, with his chest puffed up, on his sparkling new boat that he'd eventually take back to his mansion on Figure Eight, to the family who loved and supported him. Who cared where he was, and cared what time he'd be back.
She wanted that, she craved that. That feeling of stability, of independence in life but dependence in love. Everything would be so different if that were her. If she grew up like a Thornton, or a Cameron, instead of a Maybank.
Cassie's phone started ringing, a loud vibration that echoed against the boat in her back pocket. It earned everyone's attention for a few seconds, before they turned back to their own conversations.
She stood from the boat, tucking a blonde strand of hair behind her ear before she glanced down at the screen. 'Kildare County Sheriff's Office'.
Glancing behind her to make sure no one saw— to which she realized no one was paying her any mind— she started to walk down the dock, phone held to her ear as she said a "Hello?"
"Cassidy Maybank?" A female deputy, assumedly, spoke on the other end.
She nodded, then realized she had to speak aloud. "Yes?"
"Hi, this is the Sheriff's Office. We have someone in holding here who has requested their one call be directed to you. Can I put them on the line?"
Cassie's heart started pounding, and she glanced over to the rest of the crew on the boat, still talking among themselves. "I— who?" She eventually said, returning her attention forward as she found shade under a nearby tree.
"Rafe Cameron, ma'am."
Her eyes shut, and she felt an instinctive hand come to her face to rub her eyes. How does she keep getting tangled up in messes that aren't hers? "I don't—" she felt herself beginning to decline, to say absolutely not, but she said his one call. One. "Yes."
Cassie heard the lines getting switched over, her hands starting to shake, her feet carryingng her farther away from the group to ensure no one would listen in. Because she knew this was wrong. She knew that very well.
There was silence, and then he spoke. "Cassie?" He spoke into the phone.
She could hear it through a single word, that need for her— whether it be comfort, or someone to tell him to go to hell, he just needed her on the other line. For some unknown reason, he had to talk to her.
She clenched her jaw. "Why did you call me?"
There was hesitation. "Look— I'm worried about my dad, alright? I don't know what he's gonna do—"
Cassie squeezed her eyes shut. "That's not my problem, Rafe." She spoke his name quietly. "I— none of this is my problem, really."
"Come on, don't be like that." He spoke. "Can you just— I don't know. They're gonna get him."
She shakes her head quickly. "What do you want me to do about that?!"
She could hear him struggling on the other line. "I don't know. I don't know what to do."
Cassie bit down on her tongue. "I'm sorry— just—" she glances behind her towards the boat, glancing at her friends. "Rafe, I'm really sorry about all this but—"
"What's up?" John B yells from the boat, everyone turning to see what Cassie was doing.
Cassie starts to shake her head. "Nothing, I— it's my grandma!" She yells back, pulling the phone from her ear.
John B sends her a thumbs up, and as she watches Topper's begin to leave, she knew her time alone was quickly depleting. She puts her phone back to her ear, but barely got a word in. "I—"
"Who was that?" He asks, in a tone of someone who was shocked by the fact that Cassie was hanging out with other people.
"John B." she whispers back, slightly annoyed, then takes a breath. "I can't help you, I'm sorry." She eventually says, her shoulders falling a bit as she lets the words out.
There was a part of her that really wanted to try. To see if there was some way she could twist the system to work out in everyone's favor. That, if she could just plead to the law that he's only a kid, he was just trying to protect his father, then maybe they'd have a bit of leniency.
It was in Cassie's nature to do the right thing, the kind thing. And that's what she was going to use to justify these feelings, that she was simply being kind. But it all came down to whose eyes viewed the situation. To Rafe, she'd be doing the right thing, to her brother, her friends, she'd be public enemy number one.
Rafe hung up without another word, the sudden end dial tone that snapped her out of her own thoughts, leaving her to wonder how long it'd gone quiet.
She shoved her phone in her pocket, quickly turning to her friends that were making their way back up from the boat towards the house.
"You good?" JJ asks with a nod, cracking open a beer he'd grabbed on his way over.
Cassie glances over to John B and Sarah, tension radiating off of them as they went separate ways, both of them looking annoyed with the other. Then to Kiara, who looked like she was actively trying to avoid Pope. And Pope, who was now visibly pissed off by the notion.
Turning back to JJ, the two exchanged confused glances. "I'm staying out of it." He puts his hands up defensively.
Cassie lets out a frustrated huff, glancing around at The Chateau and realizing her day was, yet again, turning into moping around, and doing nothing but being anxious. Given the sudden shift in mood, she wondered if now was a good time to start a serious conversation
"Hey, have you... talked to Dad recently?" She eventually said, squinting up at her brother as the sun sat right behind his blonde mop of hair.
He looked taken back by the question. "Uh... I mean, I saw him when I was trying to get John B back but he didn't see me. I don't really—" she shrugged. "Don't really have much to say to him." He started to walk away, wanting to avoid the topic.
Cassie clenched her jaw, lingering in her spot for a few moments before following after him. "Yeah, but— I don't even think he knows I'm back. I haven't seen him in over a year, don't you think I should—"
"Do whatever you want." JJ says, hopping up the steps to the front porch.
Cassie stops in place, shaking her head confusedly. "Wh— don't be an ass, I'm trying to talk to you."
He turns around and shrugs. "Do whatever you want, Cas. Don't let me stop you." He repeats, but somehow more passive aggressive than before.
"I'm literally just asking you if you think it's a good idea, don't get snappy—"
"Okay, um, no, I think it's a stupid idea, and I think it's only gonna make you feel worse." He says, looking away as he takes a swig from the can. "All he's gonna do is guilt trip you, alright? You've been doing better— just leave it."
Cassie blinks a few times, the words, 'actually, I haven't, but there's too much going on for anyone, let alone myself, to take a minute to even realize it' on the tip of her tongue.
She glances around at the state of The Chateau, everyone doing their own thing, everyone a bit off. She could hear the hushed whispers of Pope and John B from inside, both gossiping about their respective girls. Kiara was already lighting up a joint, returning to her hammock— so she was out of service too. Sarah was frantically trying to contact her sister via text, and JJ looked like he was more than eager to escape this conversation so he could peace out too.
Nodding, she came to an understanding with herself, knowing a little space would be healthy. She valued her alone time, and there really hasn't been a lot of it lately. "I'm probably gonna go home."
And JJ had the nerve to look offended. "Why?"
She rubbed her eyes. "I'm tired, I don't know." She says lazily. "I'll see you guys later."
When Cassie returned to her grandma's, she offered to cook, or pick-up something for the two of them to eat. When her grandma said she wasn't hungry, Cassie went upstairs to her bedroom, and didn't leave it again til the morning.
It was a long night, but one much needed. First she just sat there and refreshed her email, seeing if anyone had reached out to her after leaving her resume in random mailboxes, hoping someone was hiring. She checked her spam, checked her deleted, and there was nothing.
Then she lit a candle, and watched a movie on her laptop, something low stress, low conflict, but enough to hold her attention and keep her mind occupied.
Then she reached out to a couple girls she had a class with before she went to Kitty Hawk. If she remembered right, the three got a long pretty well. And if Cassie hadn't vanished one day; a good, normal, crime-free friendship could've come out of it— but she'd never know now.
She asked them if they'd want to go get a coffee sometime, and catch up. One of them said, 'I'm pretty busy right now, but I'll let you know!' which was a kinder way of not outright saying no, but meaning that she was never going to actually 'let her know'. The other one just didn't respond.
Then it was endless scrolling, going through old pictures, from back in Waco when she was barely a teenager, with braces and a too-short haircut that did not do anything for her looks. Old pictures with her mom at the zoo, or on Easter in her fancy floral church dress. One of her mom with a hand-made 'best mom award' card Cassie had made in class for mother's day.
She felt a knot in her throat. It was hard for Cassie to mourn her. Hard for her not to see her as the drunk who could've killed the both of them.
Realizing this was defeating the purpose of her night to decompress, and she was only making herself sadder, she fully powered off her phone, shoved it in a drawer, turned on another movie, and within minutes of it, fell asleep.
She only realized how big of a mistake that was when she woke up.
She saw it on the tv, first. Coming downstairs to get something for breakfast, lingering on the last creaky step in her pajamas, eyes glued to the tv just like her grandma's, as the news report reveals Ward Cameron had killed himself.
She ran back upstairs, rushing over to her bedside table and whipping the drawer open to power her phone back on, those thirty seconds it took to boot up feeling more like ten years.
There was certainly no logical thinking happening, it was only a matter of panic, worry, and confusion as to what happened now.
Texts and calls rolled in one by one from the night before, and she could have screamed with how stupid she was— turning off her phone at times like these. It was mostly her brother, asking her where she was and to 'just stay home,' 'things are gonna be weird for a while', and that 'it's best you just stay out of it.'
And that pissed her off. She definitely wasn't going to get used to being treated like a child again. She was more than capable of deciding when she needed to take a step back, she'd done it, it was good, and needed, but now she was back in it.
She opened the first news article that came up when she searched Ward's name. 'On late Saturday evening, Ward Cameron had stepped onto his yacht, confessed to the murder of both Sheriff Peterkin and Gavin Barnstead, only for seconds later, the yacht to explode on the waters with him inside of it. Police, his family, including his seventeen-year-old daughter, and other onlookers present for the suicide.'
It took a moment for her to process it, took a moment to go through JJ's texts, from the group-chat, trying to piece together what had happened by the few exchanges she was included in.
In the group-chat with Sarah, it was mostly quiet. A few 'please talk to us when you're ready''s, a few 'I can't imagine what you're going through right now''s.
In the group-chat without Sarah, it was jokes. And good riddances. And plans for celebration at The Chateau that they were calling 'a wake', JJ asking if it was too ironic to bring fireball shooters. It wasn't until John B said it 'was too bad Ward got Rafe off the hook' that she finally, really understood what Ward had done.
"I'm going to the beach." Cassie said quickly, snatching the keys off the table by the door as her grandma gave her a mumble in response, still watching the newscast on the living room tv.
She drove to the station, a much shorter drive given how over the speed-limit she was, but she figured most of the deputies were pretty held up right now to care about speeding teenagers.
Why she felt like it was now her responsibility to be there, she didn't know. But it was an instinct she couldn't resist.
She swung the station door open to a secretary, who was almost startled by Cassie's urgency, Cassie spoke. "Is—" she glances around past the front office to look for herself. "Is Rafe Cameron still in holding?"
The woman at the front desk clenched her jaw, like the mention of a Cameron right now was like speaking of the devil. "Yes. They're processing some data right now but he should be released soon."
Cassie held onto the counter, trying to catch her breath, taking a moment to relax. She glanced at the woman's computer, noting the time. After a second, Cassie's eyebrows lifted in concern and she spoke again. "Does he know?" She asks, quietly. "About his father?"
The secretary was acting like this was something they shouldn't be talking about. But she answered anyways. "Yes. He was told this morning."
Cassie wasn't sure if that made things better, or worse. But her shoulders dropped, remembering that pain. Of being a child in a hospital, already suffering from the physical pain of a car accident, only to be told that it'd killed your mother but that she was 'lucky to be alive'.
She'd never describe that feeling as lucky.
She felt her hand go to her heart, as she turned to go sit down in the waiting area. She felt like she could rub it out, rub out this feeling of losing a parent, felt like it was something simply physical, just a knot that grows in your throat but goes away if you swallow it down enough, but it was deeper than that. Much, much deeper— and she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy.
And maybe that was why she took a seat in the waiting room, and waited for Rafe.
When he came out, the station fell still, as if everyone was too afraid to move, too afraid to set him off. He looked filthy, a dirt covered dark shirt with a towel swung over his shoulder, bruises and cuts on his cheeks.
He kept his head hung low as a deputy lead him out to the front, explaining to him what the next steps were.
Rafe wasn't listening, that was clear enough. His eyes were glued to the ground as he walked forward, tired, sunken in, and lifeless.
Cassie stood from the waiting room chair as the secretary handed him the last of the paperwork. Every single person in that station had their eyes on him, and that made Cassie want to look away— to show him that she saw him— but not like that.
But she didn't, she couldn't, she watched him and waited for him to break down like she did. To cry and wail, but he was just empty.
As he turned to leave, his eyes finally found her and he stopped, slowly blinked a few times as if he was weighing his options, wondering if she was worth speaking to, before turning to leave.
The door had barely shut before Cassie was following after him. She wasn't sure what to say, 'are you okay?' felt like the natural first question, but obviously he was not. And she knew very well that it was a stupid question to ask.
"Can I—" She started, following after him as he made his way down the front steps towards the parking lot. She shook her head, "What can I do?"
"Go home." Rafe says without turning to acknowledge her, his voice coarse.
Cassie took a breath, trying to put herself back in his shoes again, to try and remember what it was she needed in moments like this.
But her and Rafe were very different. All of this was very different. Yes, he'd now lost a parent too but this— this had complexities to it that could never compare to her own.
So now she just felt stupid for being here. She should've gone to Sarah, at least. Or maybe she should've just stayed out of completely. This wasn't about her— was she making it about her? Now she felt selfish.
"Can I give you a ride home?" Cassie asked, his back to her.
He was quiet for a few moments, completely still, and she was desperate to understand where his mind was at. And then he just shook his head no.
Cassie swallowed harshly. "Okay, well—" she started feeling herself wanting to say 'if there's anything I can do' but what a useless saying that was. There was nothing she could do for him, or Sarah right now. "Just take care of yourself, okay? I— yeah." She stopped herself from continuing.
She got back in her car, watched him leave as she let the heat of the sun soak into her skin, and the commotion of the morning truly start to settle.
Did this mean everything was over? Or at least on its way to being over? There was no telling right now.
She opened her phone, and like it was a reflex, she felt herself wanting to call her brother. To see where everyone was, to debrief or to just get the full story— but his texts from earlier reappeared in her mind: 'it's best you just stay out of it.'
They'd never say that to anyone else but her. She couldn't imagine someone like John B ever texting Kiara to just 'stay out of it'. Or vice versa. They encourage each other to get involved, to poke their noses in places they shouldn't be. Never did any of them stay out of it.
And all this did was reiterate things she'd already been feeling. That she wasn't one of them.
Cassie brings her keys up to start the car, but stops when she sees a prison transport van drive through the parking lot, making its way toward the back.
She followed it with her eyes, knowing there would never be a good time to go and see her father. She was already here, she might as well just bite it and go.
And then she was inside, signing forms and answering questions from a deputy, ones like 'are you a convicted felon?' to which she genuinely wasn't positive on the answer anymore— but said no anyways— sure if it was a real issue they had the tools to figure it out. They took her ID and scanned it, they wrote down her phone number and contact information, asked her about her relation to who she was visiting, and they told her the rules on how this was going to go down.
Her father had been denied access to a contact visitation. Meaning, they'd have to talk through phones, in between a glass window. Everything they say is monitored, and she has thirty minutes to talk with him. If she wanted longer than that, she'd have to set up an appointment ahead of time.
He was waiting in there first when the deputy brought her in, there was only four other people in there. An older woman visiting who she assumed was her son, and two deputies who stood back and monitored.
Her father looked up when Cassie slowly approached the seat in front of him, his hands lowering from where they rested on his eyebrow bones, and a hint of a smile grew on his lips.
Her heart was pounding, immediate regret flooding her system as she sat down, and picked up the phone.
Quickly, he did the same, as if not wanting to miss even a second of what she had to say.
"Hi, Dad." Cassie spoke reluctantly, hearing a faint echo of her voice through the old phone to her ear.
He smiled brightly, and an instinct to reach forward and grab her hand was clear as he moved it towards her, only to realize the glass was there for a reason. "Hi, Cassie Jude." He spoke, examining her face. "I didn't know you were back, I— when they said my daughter was here to visit I thought they were joking." He laughed, but his eyes made it look like he could start crying at any second.
Cassie swallowed harshly, feeling a knot grow in her throat. She didn't like to see him like this, in an orange jumpsuit, knuckles bruised for some reason she could only assume was prison-fights. She wanted badly to know what would happen when she left, where he would go, and what the environment was like, but it was best she didn't.
"Yeah." She nodded slightly. "I'm sorry I didn't— visit earlier. It's been really hectic since I've been back."
Her dad tried to read her expression, then asked, "Is it true? About Ward Cameron?"
Cassie hesitated, then nodded.
And then her dad let out a loud chuckle, hit the metal table he sat at excitedly, to which she jumped at the sound, and then he leaned back into the phone. "Shit," Luke clicked his tongue. "Fucker had it coming, right?"
She glanced up at one of the guards on his side, not sure if this topic fell under their rules of regulation, but nodded anyways. "Well, how are you?" She asks, not sure what else to say, but knowing she didn't come here to talk about Ward Cameron.
He shrugs, and leans back in his chair, keeping the phone to his ear. "Can say I've been better."
She wasn't sure what response she was expecting, but hearing that made her sad. "Yeah, I—"
"How are you?" Luke asks. "You look— Cas, you look tired. You sleeping enough? You using again?" The second question fell quiet.
Cassie let out an awkward laugh, looking around to make sure no one had heard, then shook her head. "No, Dad— I'm fine. Just— like I said. Very hectic."
He nodded toward her suspiciously. "Yeah, saw your little friend here just a couple days ago. Woke up one day and he was gone. Guess he's got Ward Cameron to thank for that."
Cassie nodded.
"Hey— how's your brother?" He adds, leaning back towards the glass. "Haven't... I haven't heard much from him."
She wanted to respond with a 'can you blame him?' but she didn't. "He's good, he's..." she thought for a second. "He's better now that John B is back, and— yeah. He's working, got a good job and he's doing well in school, too."
She wasn't sure why she felt like she needed to lie on JJ's behalf. Maybe it was some subtle way of saying 'fuck you' to their dad, insinuating they were doing very well without him.
Luke didn't look phased either way, though. Just nodded. "I'm sure he's happy to have you back, too."
She shrugged slightly, "Yeah, not really sure about that." She laughs it off.
Luke shakes his head. "Your brother loves you, Cassie Jude. I know after what happened you're probably mad at him but he only—"
She narrows her eyebrows, confused, "After what happened?"
Luke shrugs. "After calling that—" he flings his arms around, trying to find the appropriate words. "—that camp. The one you went to. He was real upset— even came to me about it. Didn't know what to do."
She felt her heart skip a beat, but felt inclined to clarify before she let the rest of her body shut down. "Called Kitty Hawk? When?" She spoke, holding steady eye contact with her father.
He shrugged. "I don't know, pretty soon after you almost overdosed. He just wanted to make sure you were safe, so don't hold it against him forever—"
Cassie shook her head quickly, interrupting him. "JJ called them? He— when they showed up out of nowhere and— that was JJ?"
Luke was confused by her confusion, but nodded along anyways.
She fought to keep herself empathic even as every terrible thing she had predicted came true. Had been true. Cassie turns, but too slowly to be normal. When she speaks her voice trails slowly, like her words are unwilling to take flight. There is a sadness in her eyes, the blue too glossy. "I'm done now." She says to the guard, before turning back to her dad. "I'll— bye. I'll come visit, more often, but—" she felt herself hanging up the phone before she could get all of her thoughts out.
Too much was happening in her mind for her to continue this conversation any further, she was up and out of the chair, leaving the visiting station as the sounds around her became muffled. Her dad's voice calling after her was nothing but an echo bouncing against her own thoughts.
JJ tried to get rid of her. And he let her blame her grandma for this— after all this time, after all these letters back and forth when she was locked up in a tiny, bug-infested cabin, talking about how she 'couldn't believe her grandma would do something like this', or 'did she even research this place before she sent me here? read any of the reviews?' and the entire time it was her own brother.
And he knew, he knew how miserable she was, how poorly they treated her and still— he did nothing about it? And he hugged her when she came back, and he asked her how it was, all while acting like he wasn't the sole reason she'd been wiped off the face of the earth for an entire year?
And her friends— Kiara, and Pope, and John B, they all had to know. She was sure JJ would have gone to them too for their opinion, and she imagined those conversations, she imagined their thoughts, and she was sure they all leaned in the direction of, 'well, she never really belonged here anyways!' and now, now she was destroyed.
Betrayal was an emotion she was familiar with, but not in this sense, not in the sense of her own brother, and friends, who, for so long, acted like they were her friends.
Friends wouldn't do this.
a/n
sorry for disappearing for over two weeks !! breakups and work and stress and an overall lack of motivation❤️ but we back
bonfire party next chapter 👀
- jane x