CHAPTER EIGHT
AIN'T NO REST FOR THE WICKED — CAGE THE ELEPHANT
You know there ain't no rest for the wicked,
Money don't grow on trees
JJ'S EYES LIT up and his lips curled into a soft smile as Stella exited the hospital after her shift the next morning. She hadn't looked up yet, too concerned with unclipping her ID badge from her shirt, and nearly tripped over a crack in the pavement, causing a huff of frustration to escape her mouth. After shoving her badge into her canvas tote bag and moving her hair out of her face, her gaze finally lifted to search for the van affectionately named the 'Twinkie'. When she found the van in the desolate parking lot, she was met with JJ's wide grin.
"Don't say anything," she warned with a pointed finger, knowing that he saw her stumble and almost fall. While her words were threatening, her tone suggested that she wouldn't do anything if he did make a comment.
JJ shook his head with a laugh. As she neared, he leaned out of the open window and reached out for her hand. "How you doing, sunbaby?"
"Golden as always, J."
Stella's hand met his, but instead of gaining a kiss on the back of her hand like usual, JJ pulled her in and kissed her cheek. She tried her best to hide the affect the blond had on her as she climbed into the van, and ignored the smirk John B was giving her through the rearview mirror.
After tossing her bag onto the ground, JJ reached for her and pulled her onto his lap by the back of her belt. "Morning, B." She gave John B a warm smile and got comfortable as she settled in. "So what's the plan for today, boys?"
John B started the van and pulled out of the hospital's parking lot. As he drove through the streets of Kildare, he explained how they were going to try and talk to Lana Grubbs about the compass they had found on her husband's boat. The summary of their plan was mildly boring and Stella decided that she'd spice up the conversation, letting her curious nature get the better of her.
"So," she started, giving John B a sly grin. "I have a question for you."
He glanced at her. "Uh oh. Am I in trouble?"
"I don't know," she mused, entertaining the guise of innocence for a fleeting moment. "Are you and Kie macking?"
JJ let out a laugh, but it was cut short by John B. "Are you and JJ macking?" he shot back with knowing look.
Both Stella and JJ froze, each taken back by his quick return. They weren't sure if they should be mad at him for practically exposing their feelings or embarrassed by the thought of the other finding out.
Stella was the first one to speak, deciding that the best way of keeping her heart out of harm's way would be to deny, deny, deny. "Me and JJ?" she questioned. "There's no me and JJ."
JJ nodded and bit the inside of his cheek, the arm he had wrapped behind Stella's waist loosening. "Yeah, John B," he said with a pointed look. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Deny, deny, deny.
John B turned to face the road again, shaking his head at the pair who were too stubborn and oblivious to see each other's feelings.
"Look," JJ started, bring the conversation back to its original topic, "I don't understand why you don't at least try with Kiara. She clearly likes you. She's like, 'Oh, John B.'"
"Is that what she does?" John B asked in amusement, his brow raising.
"Are you blind?" Stella's head tilted to the side, glad that the attention was no longer on her and the boy whose lap she sat upon.
JJ nodded in support. "She's sketched about you diving, then she kissed you!"
"She kissed me on the cheek," John B corrected. "You literally kissed Stel on the cheek like ten minutes ago. Besides, it's not like we were making out."
JJ shook his head. "Low-hanging fruit, bro. Don't pretend you don't notice. I see it in your eyes. You're like, 'I kinda like that,' and you start blushing."
"I blush?"
"Like a little school girl," Stella giggled then reached over to pinch his cheek. "Don't worry, bubs, it's cute."
JJ's free hand reached over Stella and grabbed the compass on the dashboard. John B was quick to take it back, but JJ claimed he only wanted to look at it. Stella had to admit that it was weird John B's family heirloom was on Scooter's boat. And she was mildly against showing up on Lana Grubbs' doorstep, especially so soon after her husband's death.
They pulled up to the Grubbs residence and the boys immediately made a comment about the house's paint job.
"Know what this house looks like?" John B asked as they approached the colourful shack.
"Whoever lives here smokes too much weed," JJ answered.
"Takes one to know one." Stella chuckled before slowing her pace. Suspicious noises were coming from the house and as they got closer she gave a look of caution to the boys. "Guys, shut up," she ordered, crouching down. Her eyebrows furrowed when she heard sounds of struggle flow from the open window and she flinched when the shattering of glass echoed through the air.
"Maybe we should come back," JJ said nervously, stopping in his tracks. He reached out and pulled Stella back before she could get too close to the house. "It's a little too soon."
"I agree with JJ."
John B crouched down. "No, no, shut up," he hushed.
There was another crash in the house. "Tell me where it is or I'll fuck you up!"
The trio shared a wide eyed look and rushed over to press themselves against the house, just under the window.
"The compass wasn't in the boat!"
"I don't like this," Stella whispered from her spot between John B and JJ. In their rush to the side of the house, JJ had grabbed her by the waist and made it so she was sandwiched between them, minimizing her risk of danger and maximizing her protection. "This has square grouper written all over it. We should go."
"Stella," John B hissed, pushing her back with his arm when she tried to peer around him and the corner of the house. "Shut up."
There was another crash and a flurry of paint flakes fell from above them. JJ started to freak out as he shook his head, trying to get rid of anything that had to do with the situation. Stella grabbed his hand in an attempt to calm him down. A house with sounds of violence coming from it would never bode well with either of them.
"Still think we should stay?" JJ shouted in a whisper as Lana cried inside.
"Let's get the hell outta here, man."
John B shuffled down to catch a glimpse of Lana's attackers and JJ switched places with Stella so he could take a look as well. "Dude, those were the guys that shot at us," JJ observed, gently pushing Stella back when she peered around so she was out of view again.
They waited for the sound of a boat to pass before sneaking into the house. When they entered the house, they were stunned by the state it was in. It had been completely ransacked. Furniture was overturned, picture frames were shattered on the wood floor, and drawers full of clutter were sprawled out, empty and discarded. Those men were looking for something, the very something that was tucked safely away in John B's pocket.
"Miss Lana?" they called out, the faint sound of whimpering reaching their ears. They followed it to the bathroom and found Lana balled up on the ground, shaking in the aftermath of what she had endured.
They shared uneasy looks before approaching her. JJ quietly suggested that they leave, but John B paid him no mind and Stella was too nice to leave someone in pain, even then it caused her mental distress.
John B placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, retracting it quickly when she flinched. The older woman turned around, only relaxing when she saw it was three teenagers in front of her and not two grown men.
"She's tweaking, bro," JJ said, looking uneasy as John B and Stella crouched down.
"Let's call the sheriff's department," John B suggested, looking to his friends.
Lana shook her head in fear. "No! No cops, please."
"Mm. That's not good." JJ took a gentle hold of Stella's arm and pulled her up. "Come on, guys. Let's just go."
"Miss Lana, at least let me clean you up," Stella pleaded, eyeing the woman's injuries. She watched as Lana continued to shake and tried to push any memory of the past to the back of her mind.
"You shouldn't be here!" she exclaimed, eyes crazed as they darted between the trio.
JJ pulled on Stella's arm again. "That's enough for me. Come on."
"Wait, wait." John B raised his hand, but his eyes stayed locked on Lana's trembling figure. "What do you know about these guys?"
"John B..." Stella warned as she looked around, worried that the men might come back.
"They were looking for something," Lana quivered.
John B fished the compass out of his pocket and showed it to the woman. "Does it have anything to do with this? Do you know anything about this? This is my father's, and Scooter had it. Why?"
Lana's face fell. "Scooter didn't have it, okay?" She stated, growing visibly upset. "Don't tell anyone you have it!"
Stella touched John B's shoulder. "John B."
"Why?!" John B continued to press.
"John B!" Stella snapped. "She's not going to tell you anything. Let's get out of here."
THE TRIO WAS back at John B's house recounting the events of their morning to Kie and Pope. JJ was freaking out as he relived what had happened, John B was standing silently off to the side, and Stella was leaning against the wall with JJ's vape between her lips, inhaling the smoke slowly so she could feel it fill every inch of her lungs.
"And all we hear is just, 'Bam! Bam! Bam!' Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside. And I'm just looking at them, like—Wait, first off, look at this shit." JJ rushed over to Pope and shook his head back and forth, white dust falling from his hair as Kie's face scrunched up. "Look at that shit. That's paint!"
"That's dandruff," Kie grimaced. "Disgusting."
"At that point, I was just, like... I'm waiting for death."
Pope shook his head and looked between Stella, John B, and JJ. "Oh, okay, so you saw the guys that shot at us, right? Did you get a good description of them? What did they look like?"
"Anything," Kie added.
"Anything we can bring to a police report?"
JJ stepped forward and plucked his vape from Stella's lips, taking a long inhale before looking over to his friends. "Burly."
"Burly?" Pope repeated flatly.
JJ nodded. "Yeah."
"That's not very helpful," Kie deadpanned before turning to Stella for help.
"Okay, well, no, like the type of guy at my dad's garage," JJ clarified. "I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers. I can tell you with full confidence, these boys, these killers... They're square groupers."
Pope let out a small sigh at the blond's dramatics. "What does this square grouper look like? Specifically?"
Stella pushed off the wall and thought for a moment. "I don't know, like late thirties to mid forties? Tall, dark and scary?"
Pope gestured to Stella with a thankful expression. "See? That's helpful."
"You weren't there," JJ said in exasperation.
"You don't know what to look for!"
"Dude!" JJ exclaimed. "I wasn't taking little mental Polaroids the entire time. I was under duress, okay? But I can tell you... I can tell you by the way that Ms. Lana was screaming... that these guys are serious, serious hombres, man."
"JJ," Stella called lightly. She beckoned him over to her. His mind was racing, so she called him again. "JJ, come here."
JJ turned and made his way over to her. "It's a heavy vibe right now, okay? I am not liking this very much," he said, wrapping his arms around Stella. He calmed down when Stella's arms locked behind him.
"You're okay, baby," Stella soothed. Her voice was slightly muffled from being pressed against JJ's shirt. JJ's nerves settled as Stella spoke. His breathing slowed, knowing this was the work of the pet name she had called him. Stella only called him baby on three occasions: to get his attention, to calm him down, and to persuade him into doing what she wants. Stella sensed that it had worked and smiled to herself.
"The question is: why do they want the compass?" Kie proposed.
Pope shrugged. "It's a piece of shit. You couldn't pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to." He quickly turned to John B when he realized how insensitive he sounded. "No offence. I know it's in your family—"
"The office," John B realized.
"What?" Pope questioned. The other four stared at John B perplexed.
Stella pulled away from JJ, but remained under his arm. "Like the show...?"
"My dad," John B explained. "My dad's office." He walked into the house and motioned for the others to follow him. He stopped in front of a door and pulled out a set of keys. "He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. We used to laugh at him like he was gonna find it. But now that he's gone, I've just kinda... I just left it as he kept it."
"Yeah, for when he gets back." Kie nodded. Stella, Pope and JJ shot her a disapproving look to which she met with a pointed stare.
John B unlocked the door and the five teens filed in.
In all her years of being friends with John B and all the times she had slept over, Stella had never seen the inside of this room. It had to be the coolest room in the house in her opinion. The others believed so too because they were looking around like they had just stepped into a museum.
"Here, look." John B pulled a board from the wall and placed it on the table. He started to explain the origins and the path the compass took in order for it to land in his position. There was a reoccurring theme going on and it was that everyone who owned the compass died.
"You have a death compass," Stella deadpanned.
John B shook his head. "I do not."
"Yes, you do," Stella pressed. "You have a cursed compass."
JJ nodded and stood next to her. "Get rid of it."
John B ignored them and sat in his father's chair. He started twisting the back of the compass off to reveal a secret compartment. There was no hidden note, but there was an engraving on the cap.
Redfield, it said. Though, it didn't provide much help seeing as that name was the most common name in the county.
"Maybe it's an anagram?" Pope suggested. He didn't want to indulge John B, but Kie shot him a sharp look that told him to do otherwise.
At the possibility of a clue, John B jumped from his seat in search of paper. Once he found a scrap piece, he handed it off to Pope who started scribbling ideas away.
"How can you concentrate with that thing crowing at you?" Pope questioned snidely. John B's rooster had been crowing the entire time, but after spending so much time at John B's it had kind of become white noise to Stella.
"JJ loves the rooster," Stella said with a small frown. "So does Kie. Everybody loves the rooster."
They started bouncing ideas off one another, but it didn't last long. About two minutes later, John B was calling their attention over to the window. "Guys, someone's here."
They all flocked to the window. A black truck was parted behind the Twinkie and out of it hopped two men—the square groupers.
"Guys, is that them?" Kie asked fearfully. "Is that them?"
Stella started freaking out. If the bad guys found them, they were toast. "JJ," Stella squeaked, keeping her eyes on the men who were walking up to the house. "Where's your gun?"
JJ, who was muttering an 'I told you so' to John B, walked to the other side of the room. John B rushed up behind him and pushed him against the wall, pointing a finger in his face. "JJ. Hey, look at me," John B said. "Where is the gun?"
"Gun? I, uh, I can't—" JJ stammered.
Kie brought her hands to her face in despair. "Now you don't have the gun, the one time we need the gun?" She was on the verge of tears.
Stella came up beside John B and sternly said, "JJ, look at me. Where did you have it last?"
He looked at her and she nodded encouragingly. "It was in my backpack, and then I—"
"Backpack—" John B repeated.
"On the porch," JJ remembered. "It's on the porch."
John B backed away and opened the door for him. "Go, go."
JJ left the room and Stella moved to follow him, not wanting him to be alone, but was held back by Kie. JJ was back before the door could shut with a panicked look in his eye. "They're on the front porch, guys," he whispered.
"Shit." Stella moved to the window. Pope and JJ followed her and tried pushing it open. When it didn't budge, Stella looked down and saw that it was painted shut. "Kie, pass me something sharp. A letter opener or a knife or something." She opened a palm for it.
"Here," Kie said placing a letter opener in her hand.
Stella started working away at the paint. She was going as fast as she could, but it was kind of hard when she kept flinching at the shouting men in the hallway.
"Come on," JJ rushed.
"I'm going as fast as I can, JJ!" she hissed. She got broke the paint seal and the boys pushed the window open. When they were out, they sprinted to the chicken coop and hid. There was a gunshot, causing Stella's eyes to squeeze shut.
It felt like they were in there for hours. It didn't help that the chickens kept clucking loudly.
"Do something, Pope. Shut him up," JJ hissed.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Pet it, or talk to it," Kie ordered. "I don't know."
Stella grabbed one of the clucking hens that kept flapping by her feet and held it in her lap. She started to stroke it and it stopped being so noisy. "Good, chicken," she croaked. "You're okay." She couldn't tell if she was talking to the chicken or herself.
Pope tried to copy her actions, but the rooster just flapped its wings at him and crowed louder. "You do something," he said to JJ.
JJ grunted as he took a hold of the roosters neck. Through the cracks of the coop, they could see one of the square groupers creeping up. There was a sickening crack that sounded through the air and the rooster laid limp in JJ's hands. Kie's cries amplified and Stella's hold on her chicken tightened.
"Ratter! What the hell are you doin'? Let's go."
The square grouper backed away from the coop and retreated to the car. Once the truck pulled out of the driveway, they let out a collective sigh or relief.
"Fucking burly, man."
RAE SPEAKS !
rip that rooster ayeee