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It’s the way life works, best JJ can tell. You don’t get good without the bad. You can’t win.
Not without losing.
It’s not so much bad luck, JJ figures. Just the way things are. The way things balance out, on the whole.
He knows it’s not that way for everyone. He knows Kooks get what they want and they have the money to buy their happy endings. The rest of them, though?
They have to let fate level things out.
For every hit JJ lands, he knows the universe has to hit back.
Harder than ever.
Kitty Hawk, as best JJ can tell, is his crowning achievement. The best damn thing he’s ever done, hands down. He’d do it again, in a heartbeat, all over again. A million times.
So what comes next, he figures.
Is going to be bad.
-o-
He doesn’t think about it, though.
He breaks into cabin four with the skills he’s amassed from a lifetime of petty theft. He walks down the line of girls, looking, looking–
For her.
When he sees her, everything stops.
He knows John B and the others are on their way to South America.
He knows Big John could be dying already; he could be dead.
He knows they’ve risked it all on one last treasure, make or break, double or nothing.
He knows he’s broke, he’s homeless, he’s an orphan in all the ways that count.
But if she’s here.
Then none of the rest matters.
Not even a little.
Not even at all.
She comes to him, and he holds his arms out like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He feels her, heart pounding against his, keeping tempo together. He’s been scared; shit, he’s been terrified.
But the thought of messing it up – as real as it is – is nothing compared to the thought of not being with her. He could live forever as her best friend, he knows it’s true. Just as long as she’s here with him.
And if being honest is what she needs from him?
Then it doesn’t matter if he’s scared.
“I’m sorry, Kie,” he says, as the honesty lays him bare.
She nods, like she already knows. Like she’s always known.
“I love you,” she says, like she’s always known that, too.
The thing is – so has JJ.
He’s been afraid of the good, terrified that he’ll screw it up. But he’ll take the chance.
No matter how karma plays out.
-o-
He should have known, really.
Her lips on his, her fingers tucked into his hand. The rush of excitement, the two of them in the night. Everything he’s ever wanted and never let himself believe in. Everything.
He should have known.
-o-
(It’s been a matter of hours since Barracuda Mike shot out his tires and threatened him on the side of the road. He knows the man has a reputation; he knows he has a business to run.
And he knows the lies he told to buy his way on this plane are good.
Between the desperation and the adrenaline, between the need and the hope.
He knows it’s not enough)
-o-
He calls it an adventure, grinning as he takes her hand. His heart flutters as the wheels lift off from the ground, defying gravity. Defying fate. Defying everything.
She smiles at him, eyes bright.
It’s worth it, he tells himself.
It’s worth it.
-o-
They’re somewhere over the ocean when they settle down, the two of them in one of the aft compartments of the hold. They’re hyped up on adrenaline from all of it, and they both talk about the gold and finding the others.
And not the way they’re holding hands, fingers twined together, like they’re afraid to let go.
JJ’s fought against this so long, so hard.
When she curls up against him, finally letting herself sleep, he’s glad this time he surrendered.
He dips head toward her, letting his eyes close.
He doesn’t know what will happen when they land, it’s true.
But it’s like Kie says.
They’ll face it together.
-o-
They haven’t landed when JJ is pulled from sleep. The movement jostles him, as something yanks him to his feet. He opens his mouth to yell when a hand clamps over it.
His breath catches, heart pounding as he’s forcibly dragged out. He wriggles, squawking as he tries to get away, but the second he makes any progress, something hits him – hard – in the back of the head.
He’s dazed enough that this time, he’s lifted clean off his feet – and by the time he gets his shit together – he already knows he’s screwed.
“Just – easy,” Mike hisses at him.
JJ doesn’t know what to say to that; there’s nothing he can do. Not as Mike loosens his grip and puts him down – prodding him forward as they cross through the cargo hold, into the flight deck – and into the tiny side compartment.
In general, JJ doesn’t think Mike’s a bad guy. Really, all things considered, he seems okay. The right kind of criminal, as far as JJ’s concerned.
He doesn’t take joy in it, like some will.
But that doesn’t mean he won’t hurt people.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a body count.
That doesn’t mean that shit.
“What the hell, man?” JJ says as Mike pushes him inside the room. It’s small; cramped.
Private, and not in a good way as Mike’s large frame blocks the door behind him.
“This ain’t some kind of joy ride, son,” Mike drawls. He looks down at JJ – hard. He’s twice JJ’s size in height and weight, and he cuts an imposing figure when he’s not trying to.
When he is – well, damn.
JJ does his best not to cower.
It’s all he can do to muster up some semblance of his dignity and keep his head up while Mike glowers.
“We had a deal, kid,” Mike says.
“Um, yeah,” JJ protests, for a second more indignant than terrified. “Your cut of a massive treasure, remember?”
Mike just rolls his eyes. “I know, I know” Mike says, sounding a little exasperated. He draws himself up and narrows his gaze on JJ. “That’s your fee for getting down here.”
The indignant feeling vanishes, and dread fills the pit of his gut. He doesn’t dare speak; he doesn’t trust himself to move. JJ’s just waiting for a punchline.
Literally.
Mike purses his lips. “You still owe me for the shipment.”
JJ furrows his brow. “I promised you a cut,” he reminds him. “Of a priceless South American treasure.”
He’s tired; he’s not really in the mood for this. The sales pitch feels weary now, as the plane bounces over a round of turbulence over the ocean.
“I mean, come on–” he postures.
Mike’s expression doesn’t change. There’s something stiff in his posture. “I like you, kid. I do.”
JJ’s heart skips a beat and his breath catches.
Mike shakes his head. “But you lost a shipment. A shipment my men were counting on to get paid.”
“The gold–” JJ starts, but the look on Mike’s face shuts him up.
Fast.
“The gold’s long-term thinking,” Mike tells him. “My boys aren’t so good at that.”
JJ licks his lips. “You know I don’t have anything now.”
Mike tips his head a little, as if he knows that.
As if that’s not the point.
JJ’s shaking, even though he tries not to show it. He knows being scared won’t help him. He knows begging don’t mean shit.
He also knows the love of his life is sleeping in the cargo hold.
“Please,” he says, despite himself. “Kiara–”
“She’ll be fine,” Mike promises, and he nods. “Play the part, kid. And I’ll make sure you are, too.”
JJ clenches his jaw.
Mike shrugs, wrinkling his nose. “More or less.”
-o-
Mike throws the first punch before they get out of the room, and JJ feels his nose break in an all-too-familiar way. Light explodes behind his eyes as the blood gushes, and he’s fumbling to get his wits back together as Mike grabs him by the hair and hauls him back out to the main area. Kie’s still asleep in the hold; he takes some comfort in that.
The four-man crew, though, are present – save for the pilot. The other three scoff as Mike throws JJ into the room, hard enough so he stumbles, crashing to his knees in front of him.
“I know you all missed the last payday,” Mike says, while JJ tries to sit himself upright, sputtering through the blood that coats his mouth and chin. “And I ain’t got cash yet.”
They close in, and JJ tenses.
“But a little blood might help tide you over,” Mike says, shrugging. He jabs JJ in the back. “He’s the reason you’re broke.”
“This kid?” one of them asks.
Another cracks his knuckles. “Don’t know why you trusted him in the first place, Mike.”
“Aw, shit,” the third grins. “Can we take more than the blood?”
JJ shudders, looking wildly at Mike.
Mike offers him no respite this time. “Just the blood,” he says flatly. “And keep him alive. Keep him mobile.”
“But–”
“Our payday–”
“Come on–”
JJ swallows hard, feeling all too much like a prized fish, caught and on ice at the market. Just waiting for someone to buy him.
Just waiting for someone to gut him.
“Come on, boys,” Mike cajoles. “Blood’s fun. Money’s better.”
They’re quiet, and JJ blinks hard against his burning eyes.
There’s no defense. There’s no argument.
JJ sold his soul to the devil on the botched drug run. He’s playing double or nothing with it now.
Karma, he knows, as Mike leaves JJ with the three men, is coming for him now.
-o-
It’s not much of a fight.
JJ throws a few fists, but it’s nothing. He’s overpowered within 20 seconds, and within a minute his defenses are gone. A punch bruises his jaw; another splits open his temple. He doesn’t remember how his lip gets split when the next punch takes him down entirely.
On the ground, they kick him relentlessly, and when his body can’t curl in on itself, they drag him up and prop him up on his knees – just to take turns knocking him back down again. JJ wonders vaguely if this is the life of a bowling pin.
He’s bleeding and loose-limbed. His eyes are open, but nothing he sees makes sense, and he can hear the way his heart pounds but he’s not 100% sure he’s breathing. They keep going until he can’t support himself. They put him on his knees and he crumples back down before they can hit him.
It’s funny the first few times they do it.
But finally, as they hold him up by the hair and sneer at him, they seem to accept the inevitable.
“Shit,” one of them says. “I was hoping for more.”
Another stalks around him, wrapping an arm around JJ’s neck. “Too bad we can’t hawk him.”
“Shit, Barker. You’re a twisted asshole,” the third says.
“Whatever,” Barker hisses into JJ’s hair, hoisting him up with an arm around his neck and squeezing. “I want to get paid somehow.”
JJ wants to apologize. He wants to offer them a share of something – anything.
But Barker’s grip tightens, and JJ’s vision goes hazy. Heavy limbs, faltering breath.
Someone stands in front of him, shaking his head. “Disappointing.”
JJ slips away, consciousness leaving him, and he thinks they can join the list of people JJ will never be good enough for.
-o-
JJ knows he should get up; he should go back to Kie.
He broke her out of a freakin’ wilderness camp with high security, right under the supervision of the guards and counselors and against her parents' permission. He planned it, executed it, all of it – on his own. He even talked himself out of being murdered and secured a ride to South America.
And now he can’t even get himself up off the ground.
He’s not sure how much time passes; he’s not sure if he’s conscious or not. He’s not sure if he’s dead, honestly, and this is some version of heaven.
Or hell
Whichever; JJ’s not picky. He won’t get a say anyway.
Karma will do what it wants with him, no matter what he does.
He blinks, and he thinks of John B looking for his dad in South America.
He blinks again and thinks of Kie.
He blinks again and thinks of nothing at all.
-o-
He comes to with a gruff hand on his shoulder. “Come on.”
JJ groans, and tries to protest, but he’s already upright by the time he realizes that Barracuda Mike has manhandled him to his feet.
His legs threaten to give out, so Mike wraps his hand around him, propping him up as his head rolls limply against Mike’s shoulder.
“They were angrier than I thought,” Mike mutters, dragging him to the door. “But I told you – they wanted that payday.”
JJ has an impulse to apologize, but his mouth isn’t quite working. He lets out a muffled grunt.
“I know, I know,” Mike says, hoisting him back to the hall. “You’ll be okay. It’s not so bad.”
That’s easy for Mike to say. He’s not the one who just had his head caved in.
JJ gets his feet beneath him briefly and manages a few steps, before he falters again. Mike mutters something terse, and hefts him up. JJ’s head spins, his stomach turns on itself, and then–
“Hey! What the hell?”
That’s Kiara, JJ thinks belatedly. He’s too busy being thrown to the ground. His legs give out and his arms don’t catch him, and he lands face first on the floor.
“JJ?” Kiara says, rushing to him. “What did you do to him?”
Nothing important, JJ thinks.
Nothing of consequence.
Mike makes some sort of noise that agrees with JJ’s deduction, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Uh,” he posits. “Turbulance?”
Kiara scoffs, rolling JJ over. “He looks like he’s had his face beat in.”
She has no idea, JJ thinks. But he’s too weak to quip.
“JJ had a debt to pay,” Mike says simply. “He didn’t have cash.”
Even half conscious like he is, he can feel her indignation. He wants to tell her to relax. He wants to tell her it’s okay.
He half chokes on blood instead, convulsing as he clears his airway.
Her anger is vibrating, her fingers tightening around his shirt. “What are you talking about?” she demands. She gets to her feet, even as JJ reaches weakly to stop her to no effect. “You can’t just beat people. That’s not how it works.”
Kie’s a Pogue, JJ knows that. Despite what he says, he knows that.
But sometimes the Kook in her is real.
Just like it is now.
She thinks you can get the good without the bad. She doesn’t know that the cosmic balance has to be righted. If JJ Maybank played his cards and won a hand at Kitty Hawk–
It was only a matter of time before he lost.
“I promised him I’d leave you out of it,” Mike growls in a low voice. “I don’t intend to break that promise, but you best check yourself."
Kiara lifts her chin. “Or what?”
JJ closes his eyes.
She doesn’t know about the sharpshooter taking out JB’s tires. She doesn’t know the three men down the way who would do way more than beat her. She doesn’t know this isn’t a game you play to win. This is a game you play to not lose.
“Let’s not find out,” Mike says tersely. “For your sake – and his.”
He manages a whimper them – something pathetic and mewled – but enough to get her attention again. She drops back to her knees, brushing his hair back as his eyelids flutter. “Jayj?” she says. “Hey, you with me?”
He wants to answer; he tries to answer.
But he only mewls again, eyelids fluttering closed once more.
“There’s still seven hours to go,” Mike says. “Stay in here, just the two of you. I’ll make sure you get some food and water, okay?”
Through slitted eyes, he sees her glare. “Do I have a choice?”
Mike smiles faintly. “There was always a price, honey,” he tells her. “Your boyfriend paid it for both of you.”
Color flashes in her cheeks, and he feels her grip on him tighten at the word.
She doesn’t disagree, though.
And it’s not as crazy as JJ thought it would be.
Girlfriend.
Boyfriend.
It's weird.
But not a bad weird.
In fact, despite the blood and bruises, it doesn’t feel bad at all.
Mike drops his voice. “Just keep him in here, okay?” he says. “That’ll keep you two safe the rest of the way.”
Kiara scoffs. “And I’m taking your word?”
Mike inches closer, pulling up to his full height in a way that isn’t unintentional.
Kiara’s so hyped up on righteous indignation, that JJ finally intervenes. “Hey,” he says, lifting his hand up weakly to take her arm. “It’s okay—“
She looks at him, eyes burning. “They beat the shit out of you, JJ—“
She doesn’t know they almost put a bullet in him earlier.
All things considered, he’s getting off lucky.
“Listen to him, girl,” Mike says with more than a note of warning.
Kiara's expression tightens, her defiance flaring. But JJ holds her arm tighter. “Kie.”
She breaks finally, shoulders slumping. “Fine,” she mutters. She shoots a look at Mike. “Do you have a first aid kit?”
The man nods to the far wall. “Bandages, water. Maybe some painkillers.”
It’s not much, but JJ knows to take it. Kiar clamps her mouth shut as Mike leaves, and when he’s finally gone, JJ lets himself collapse back down — spent.
Kiara flattens her lips and gets up, going to the supplies on the far wall. “I thought you said we could trust this guy.”
JJ swallows thickly, looking up at the ceiling while turbulence pitches them slightly. “We can.”
Kiara makes a noise of disdain. “You willingly put us on a plane with a man who threatened to kill us.”
“Me, mostly,” JJ reminds her.
She glares at him. “And how is that better?”
There’s another jolt from the plane, enough to jar JJ’s damaged body. He squeezes his eyes shut as the pain rolls over him.
“Hey,” Kiara says, softer now. There’s a brush of touch on his face. “JJ?”
It’s an effort to open his eyes, and things are hazy when he does. It takes a long moment to focus, and he can see her worry.
“I’m okay,” he says.
His voice is weak. Far from, reassuring.
She draws her hand back, hesitating. “If this was so dangerous—“
He’s shaking her head before she can finish. “There was no way I was leaving you in that place. Not for a second.”
Something in her face warms, but her smile is bittersweet. “I would have stayed there if it could have saved you from this,” she tells him.
It’s soft; it’s gentle.
It’s real.
He feels it, the warmth that spreads through his chest.
All his life, he’s spent himself for other people.
He doesn’t know what this is. He doesn’t know what this means.
When someone is finally willing to return the favor.
No one’s cared enough to try.
No one’s cared enough to even see him struggle.
And here she is.
Kiara Carrera.
The girl who hangs the moon.
Looking at him like he’s the damn sun.
“How bad is it?” she asks after a moment, busying herself as she opens whatever Mike thinks passes as a first aid kit.
“I’m fine,” JJ says, almost out of reflex. It’s habit; it’s rote.
Her look isn’t just incredulous.
It’s genuine.
Because when she looks at him, she doesn’t see a Maybank.
She sees him.
The good; the bad. The broken; the bloody.
The whole thing.
There’s something terrifying about it.
But she smiles at him anyway. “Uh huh,” she says, soaking a piece of gauze with what he assumes is antiseptic. “So this–”
She dabs the gauze to the split in his lip and he hisses, pulling back. This jars – well, everything. His entire body tenses as his breath catches.
When he finally opens his eyes, she’s still looking at him.
“--is fine?” she finishes with a quip.
He’s trembling with the effort, face reddening from the sheer vulnerability of it. He tries to suck in a breath with his damaged ribs, gritting his teeth through it. “I’ve had worse.”
She continues to clean, but more gently this time, cleaning away the blood on his face – fingering the split lip and checking his nose while she hums. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
He doesn’t know how she can do that.
How she can look at him.
Like he’s a person.
No, like he’s a person that matters.
He doesn’t just owe her a little; he owes her everything.
And it has nothing to do with a money clip and a pisspoor performance at an anniversary party.
It has everything to do with finding someone who loved him.
Even when he didn’t love himself.
It’s the first time in his life he’s believed in a future.
It’s the first time in his life he’s thought maybe he had a chance.
It’s the first time in his life that he’s been willing to try.
And he owes everything to her.
He swallows, shifting slightly as he tries to get his body to relax. “Ah, it’s okay,” he says, a little bit less confidently now as she inspects a cut on his forehead. He winces slightly, wrinkling his nose. “I probably had this coming.”
She pauses, giving him a hard, incredulous look. “You had this coming?”
On the ground, JJ can’t do much, but he lifts one shoulder anyway. “I did sort of cost Mike a lot of money.”
Her eyes narrow at him. “And how did you do that?”
At the time, it had seemed like a good idea.
Well, no. It had seemed like the only idea.
He hadn’t been thinking about the consequences. He’d just been thinking about the fact that John B needed him. Running drugs had never been an acceptable part of the plan, but JJ’s always figured that needs-must.
Nothing to lose.
Is starting to feel like everything to lose.
“Let’s just say, he’s not all wrong,” JJ relents finally, not fully ready to admit to everything.
She considers that for a second, like she’s measuring her words. Finally, her nostrils flare. “JJ, I don’t care what you did. I know you; you didn’t deserve this.”
The way she can say that with unmitigated confidence.
JJ doesn’t get it.
He doesn’t even know what to do with it.
“Been happening all my life,” he says finally, letting the words out rushed and quiet. He licks his lips and looks distantly at the ceiling of the plane. “Guess I’m used to it.”
“Sure,” she says. “But that doesn’t mean you deserve it.”
He doesn’t trust himself to look at her.
“JJ,” she says, reaching down and cupping his face – turning his chin so he’s got no choice but to look at her. “That doesn’t mean you deserve it.”
He feels caught, pinned with nowhere to go, nothing to do. His instincts are to run – to hide.
But he’s too broken for that.
And he’s the one who broke her out.
So, he figures, he’s got no choice but to stay now. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Kind of feels like it.”
Her expression threatens to break.
He just shrugs. “I steal money from drug dealers, Kie. I swipe money clips from the parents of the girls I–”
He falters, but he’s in too deep now.
“--love,” he finishes awkwardly. He brings his brows together in helpless admission.
She draws a breath, deep and shaky, as she shakes her head. “And you get arrested for your friends. You steal boats for them. You take every punch,” she says. And then, she falters, too – tilting her head to the side. “You break them out of reform camps, even when they might deserve to be there.”
His mouth hangs open, but there are no words for that. There’s no way to argue it. There’s no way to understand it.
He’s always assumed, hasn’t he? That his role is to give, to give, to give.
He doesn’t know what it means. To get back.
To receive.
To accept.
“We couldn’t do this without you, Jayj,” she tells him. And then, with a nod, she adds, “I couldn’t do this without you.”
She’s been trying to say it, he knows. A million ways. I love you.
This is the first one that sticks.
The first one that makes sense.
The first one that doesn’t make him want to run away.
The first one where he thinks maybe – just maybe – he can stay.
“Okay,” he says, nodding at her. “Then I guess you better patch me up. We have a treasure to find.”
That makes her smile, her lips tugging up despite everything. “Yeah,” she says, nodding in agreement. “I guess we do.”
-o-
Kiara is careful as she tends to JJ’s wounds, her touch thorough but delicate as she goes over every cut, every bruise. Her fingers ghost over his sore ribs, and her face turns down in a frown as she looks at the extent of the bruising across his abdomen.
“We don’t know if they’ve done internal damage,” she frets.
He’s sitting up now, propped against the wall as he looks down. “I’ve had worse,” he says, but this time it’s not a distraction. This time, it’s a promise. “It’s just bruised.”
She doesn’t like that answer, but there’s nothing much they can do about it.
“There’s just – nothing to help,” she says, looking at the first aid kit in futility. She reaches for the Tylenol. “This will barely take the edge off, and we’re – what? Supposed to be looking for gold.”
“Just give me the pills,” he says, sitting himself up a little more. “It’s not so bad.”
She gives him a withering look. “JJ–”
He inhales, trying not to be as shaky as he feels. “I promise,” he says. Quieter – earnest – as he lifts his hand to hers. “Kie.”
His touch is delicate, but it seems to almost break her. Her face crumples. “You shouldn’t have risked it, JJ.”
“Hey,” he says. “For you–”
She looks at him, eyes wet and face taut.
His fingers are shaky as he reaches up and brushes her hair back. “Anything for you.”
“And what about you?” she says, reaching her own hand up to catch his. “JJ, this goes both ways. It has to go both ways.”
He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do.
She draws his hand down, folding it back and pressing it to his heart, hers over the top.
“That’s what a relationship is,” she says. “Both ways.”
He feels it. The way his heart skips a beat.
She feels it, too.
A relationship.
She didn’t choose John B. She didn’t choose Pope.
He doesn’t get it; he doesn’t know why.
She chose him.
“Kie, if you’re sure–” he starts, but doesn’t finish.
She closes the gap between them, lips pressed to his for the second time that night.
At Kitty Hawk, it had been a validation of the emotions.
Here, on the plane, it’s the start of something.
His breath catches as she pulls back, blinking at her.
This time, he moves forward, cupping the back of her head as he draws her in and kisses her again.
It’s the start of everything.
-o-
It’s not easy – but then, nothing is. The truth is, there’s not much to be done for him. She cleans up the blood, but most of it is bruising. The painkillers won’t do much to take the edge off, but when she hands them to him, he takes them anyway.
“We should get you looked at,” she worries as she helps him lay back down.
He grimaces, but doesn’t fight it, not even when she positions him so his head is in her lap. “There’s nothing to see,” he muses, eyes only half awake.
After everything, he’s exhausted. He’s not sure the last time he slept; he’s not sure of anything.
Except that she’s here with him.
“Your stomach and chest are a mess,” she says, straightening his shirt back over the worst of it. “We should at least get you an ice pack.”
JJ shakes his head. “We’re safer in here.”
“But JJ–” she starts.
He opens his eyes, keeping them open just long enough to look at her. “You already cleaned me up. I’m okay.”
The certainty in his voice only seems to make her cave a little more. “JJ–”
He sighs. “I’m okay, Kie. You’ve done everything you can.”
The look on her face is something, isn’t it?
All the people in his life who have accepted that and played it out.
She looks like she won’t accept it.
Like JJ’s not a lost cause.
When everyone has always known he is.
She sighs, though, fingers flitting through his hair. “You look exhausted.”
To that, he hums a little, letting his eyelids drift down. “It’s been a long day.”
A long week. A long everything.
She makes a sound, keeping her fingers moving through his hair. “You can sleep,” she murmurs.
The permission makes him open his eyes again. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
He doesn’t want to leave her at all, in truth.
Her lips twitch up into a smile. “You won’t. You didn’t,” she says. “I'm here because of you.”
The fact that she can say it like a good thing–
He doesn’t get it.
He doesn’t know how to get it
But he’s already lost one fight today.
This submission is a lot more pleasant.
Even if so much more terrifying. “I will never leave you alone,” he promises. “Not ever again.”
She nods, like she knows.
Like she’s always known. “I know,” she soothes, smoothing his hair back as his eyes droop again. “Go to sleep, JJ.”
It sounds like I kind of owe her. It sounds like I’m sorry.
It sounds like I love you..
He lets his eyes close as he finally gives in.
Because that’s another way of saying, I love you, too.
-o-
Sleep comes, hard and fast, deep and true. He drifts, falling deeper into himself.
Someplace where it doesn’t hurt.
Someplace where it isn’t scary.
Someplace where happy endings are real.
Even for someone like JJ Maybank.
-o-
When he wakes up, Kiara’s still there. She’s dozed off at some point, her fingers limp in his hair.
For a second, he can only stare at her.
Kind of in awe.
Completely in awe.
“Kie?” he asks. He has to swallow hard, trying to get some saliva in his throat. He winces with the effort as he croaks. “Kie?”
She startles – badly. Jolting badly, she nearly rolls him off her. The movement jars him, and he can’t quite bite back a cry.
“Sorry!” she says, quickly as she recovers herself. “Sorry!”
He tries to tell her it’s okay, he’s fine but the simple act of breathing is a little beyond him. He can’t do anything as she sits him up, reaching down to peer into his face.
“JJ?”
He squeaks a little, holding his ribs gingerly. “I’m fine.”
The lie is as pathetic as he is, but she’s nice enough not to point it out. “How do you feel?”
Like shit is the apt answer, but he grimaces instead. “I might need a few more painkillers.”
She’s quick to comply, reaching for the bottle as she shakes a few more free. She hands them to him, and he’s shaky with pain as he takes them, swallowing a swig of water from a bottle she hands him. When he’s done, he’s breathless, but he forces himself to steady anyway.
“Where are we?”
Kiara glances around and shrugs. “Still over the ocean,” she says. “But the best I can figure, we should be there in a few hours. Assuming we’re not on the dumbest flight path known to man.”
Dumb might not be the question.
Questionable legal might be a better one.
He thinks twice before he says that.
Kiara hesitates instead. “How are you, though?” she presses. “Really?”
The usual replies are ready on his tongue, but he feels himself falter with her. Sure, there’s part of him that wants to put on a strong front. There’s part of him that doesn’t want to let her see.
But she’s already seen it. She’s seen the bruises. She’s seen the blood.
She’s seen him.
He doesn’t know why – he can’t explain it – but she wants him anyway.
His smile is small as he weakly shrugs. “It hurts like a son of a bitch,” he concedes. “But I think I’ll be okay.”
Her brows draw together, the protest forming on her lips until she stops herself.
Because she does see him. So she takes the concession for what it is and nods gently. “I’m not Pope; I’m not good with first aid,” she says. “But nothing looked – broken.”
He lets his grin go lopsided. “I know how to take my licks.”
She doesn’t look impressed by that. She shakes her head at him, reaching up and tucking a stray strand of his hair back. “Your face is better than expected.”
He grunts. “Aw, so you do find me sexy.”
Now she rolls her eyes, groaning a little as she pushes him lightly on the shoulder and her cheeks redden. “That’s not what I meant.”
She says it so decisively, so finally – that JJ falters.
His confidence is nothing but bravado; it always has been. He’s already had his ass handed to him, and he knows everyone thinks he’s a screw up and a failure, and none of it changes what he did at Kitty Hawk.
But maybe it changes what Kiara thinks of it.
Maybe he’s gotten this wrong.
Maybe Kitty Hawk isn’t about him. Maybe it’s just about her.
“Sorry,” he says, diverting his eyes. “I didn’t–”
She’s quick to cut him off. “No, JJ–”
He’s quicker not to listen, the inevitable humiliation coloring his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have–”
“JJ,” she says, firm enough to stop him.
Enough for him to lift his eyes and look at her.
She inhales and lets it out. “Obviously – yes,” she says, slowly and clearly. “I find you attractive. But that’s not – this isn’t–”
She seems to be struggling for the words.
And JJ’s not sure he can fill in the blanks. “We don’t have to be anything you don’t want, Kie.”
“But I do want,” she says quickly. “It’s all I want. It’s all I’ve wanted since we got back from the island.”
He knows that, though. He just – has tried to not know it.
He’s usually good with that. Deny, deny, deny.
Kiara’s better.
“So, what, then,” JJ asks, biting his lower lip as his heart stutters. “We’re like— boyfriend and girlfriend?”
At that, she rolls her eyes. “Labels are bullshit—“
He frowns, because that answer seems too easy. Too fast.
Too—
Something.
“But, like,” he tries again, furrowing his brow as he tries to sort it. “We’re a — couple?”
She seems to hear him this time, the things he isn’t saying. She seems to understand it’s never been about a money clip. It’s not about an overpass. It’s not even about Pope.
It’s about the fact that JJ is staring face to face with everything he’s ever wanted, and it scares the absolute shit out of him.
Because his mother left. Because his father beat the shit out of him. Because teachers wrote him off. Because the cops had a cell waiting with his name on it. Because the Kooks all knew it. Because the Pogues all saw it.
JJ Maybank wasn’t unlovable, exactly. Call it fate. Call it luck.
Call it a genetic predisposition to misery.
But when everyone tells you your whole life you’re a piece of shit.
Sooner or later you start to believe them.
Sooner or later it’s the only thing you believe.
It’s the only thing that’s true.
And it’s not about what you want.
It’s about the inevitable truth of it all.
“I guess,” she says finally. “If that’s what you want.”
No one has ever cared what JJ wants. Not Pope. Not even John B.
They’ll use him any way they like. The fall guy. Their ideas man. Their front, the fallback, their alibi, their sacrificial lamb.
The loyal sidekick, too true for his own good.
He knows they love him. He knows it’s not exactly like that.
But he knows when they look at the future, JJ is an expendable measure.
The second choice.
The afterthought.
Not. This.
“I don’t know how to do this,” JJ admits to her, voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.
“And you think I do?” she asks.
His eyebrows go up.
She laughs. “I kissed John B. Hell, I slept with Pope,” she says. “Because I was trying to figure it out.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that.
She takes his hand, squeezing his fingers. “But it was always you,” she says, breathing the words like she can’t believe it. “It was always you.”
It’s surreal; it’s impossible.
But JJ’s on a flight to South America after paying favors to a drug dealer. He’s going to find his best friend’s father – and maybe some gold on the way. JJ should be used to the impossible.
Because the options for possible are limited.
And Kiara Carrera standing at the open door.
Begging him to come inside.
What happens next, he doesn’t know.
If it crashes, if it burns, if it ruins everything–
Well. Then. At least he’ll know.
“Do you know how long I've waited to hear you say that?” he asks, almost laughing.
She leans closer, her breath quickening. “Almost as long as I’ve waited to do this.”
She kisses him again. It’s still a thrill, the butterflies in his stomach, lightning down his spine, and the hair stands up on his arms as everything comes alive.
He gasps as they part, almost falling into her. “This could ruin everything.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she says, not opening her eyes as her hands run down the bruised planes of his chest.
He grunts, shuddering as her fingers find their way down lower, along the waist of his pants. He lifts up his hips instinctively, letting out a cry.
She pulls back, eyes open. “Unless you don’t–”
“You know me, Kie,” he says, pulling her toward him and running his hands down her body. “I’ll bet it all on myself, every time.”
Her fingers find his button and she grins as it pops free. “Okay, then,” she says, kissing him hard and biting his lower lip as he fumbles with her bra. “That’s a bet I’ll take.”
-o-
Afterward, they’re breathless, tangled together and heads pressed close. He’s sore – every part of him aches – but he can barely feel it, not when he’s caught up in her arms.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he pants against her, feathering kisses along her chin.
“You saved my ass in Kitty Hawk, JJ,” she reminds him.
He pauses, eyebrows up. “You owed me?”
She rolls her eyes, ever demur. “I’ve been waiting for you to open the door, Maybank.”
“Is that an invitation?” he asks, cocking his head.
She kisses him again, pushing him back down and getting herself on top before he can protest. “Shut up,” she says. “And let’s make things even.”
The give and take, the back and forth.
He wonders if that’s all a relationship is.
If that’s all love is.
Spending the rest of your life.
Making it up to someone else.
Because you know – you know – they’re doing the same for you.
-o-
Needless to say, the flight passes quickly.
Sure, being unconscious for some of that – that helps.
Being with Kiara, though.
That’s everything.
-o-
As they disembark, the other men sneer at JJ. Kiara glares at them, but JJ just waves back. In truth, he barely feels the bruises. The blood – that’s a distant memory.
See, sometimes the good isn’t enough to make up for the bad.
Sometimes, though.
Sometimes, it is.
So he’ll take the bruises. He’ll take the licks.
And he’ll take Kiara’s hand.
And take the chance anyway.
-o-
“This better work out,” Mike warns him as they set off. “This payout you’re talking about. South American gold.”
JJ feels his resolve waver, just a little. “I told you, didn’t I?”
Mike narrows his eyes. “You told me a lot of things, son.”
He’s close to folding, but Kiara doesn’t hesitate. She lifts her chin next to him. “We’re going to find this treasure,” she says. “No doubt about it.”
Mike gives her a discerning look. “You’re awfully confident in your boy here.”
“Yeah,” Kiara says, looking at JJ. “Yeah. I am.”
-o-
In the end, Mike lets JJ go with a few more not so idle threats. He assures JJ if this doesn’t work, if he doesn’t get paid – well, he’ll take a lot more than blood.
He’ll take everything.
A few days ago, that wouldn’t have meant bullshit.
But after Kitty Hawk?
Everything has a whole new meaning.
“Don’t worry,” JJ says. “You know I’m good for it.”
Mike scoffs, like that may actually be the funniest thing JJ’s ever said. “No, I don’t.”
“I’m not betting nothing this time,” JJ tells him. “I’m betting everything.”
“And that makes me feel better how?” Mike asks him.
“My own life doesn’t mean shit,” he says. “But hers?”
They both look over to where Kiara is getting off the plane.
“Hers means everything,” he says.
Mike looks at him carefully. “And how does that help you?”
“I’ll save myself to save her,” he says. “I’ll do anything.”
Mike snorts and shakes his head. “For your sake, kid. I hope so.”
“Yeah,” JJ agrees. “Me, too.”
-o-
It’s not hope, in the end. It’s not even belief.
It’s just–
Well, it’s a choice.
Just like JJ chose to go to Kitty Hawk.
Just like Kiara chose JJ, even after everything he’d done.
They got on the plane together.
They got off the plane together.
“You sure we can do this?” Kiara asks, glancing anxiously over her shoulder back at Mike and his crew, unloading the drugs.
It seems impossible, doesn’t it? Finding their friends. Stopping Singh. Saving Big John.
Much less the gold.
But hey. JJ’s in a relationship with Kiara Carrera.
So impossible is kind of his thing now.
“You and me?” he says, shrugging a little. “I mean. Yeah.”
He looks at her.
Just at her.
And he nods. “I’m pretty sure.”
She grins at him, like she gets it. Like she really gets it as she takes his hand, takes his heart, takes all of him. “Then, okay,” she says, ever matter of fact. “Let’s do this.”
-o-
It’s the way life works, best JJ can tell. You don’t get good without the bad. You can’t win without losing. It’s not about bad luck; it’s just how things are. The way life balances out, on the whole.
All his life, he’s tempered his expectations. Every damn day, he lets himself believe in the worst. Without thinking, just for a second, maybe he’s paid enough. Maybe he’s suffered enough.
Maybe – just maybe – it’s his turn.
Kitty Hawk doesn’t have to be his pinnacle, he decides.
No, as he sets off across South America with nothing but Kie and a promise, he figures Kitty Hawk? Well, that’s just the start.
But what comes next, JJ doesn’t know. He’s not sure why. But this time?
This time he figures.
It’s going to be good.