CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
↳ the enemy of my enemy

THE LATE AFTERNOON SUN REFLECTED OFF THE WATER, casting streaks of gold across the docks. The Pogues were gathered around a battered bench, the Twinkie parked haphazardly nearby.

Pope stood at the center of it all, his face a mix of awe and confusion as the rest of the group stared at him.

"So, let me get this straight," JJ started, leaning against a piling with a dramatic pause. "You're royalty now?"

He tilted his head back, adopting a terrible British accent. "All hail King Pope! First of his name, ruler of Tannyhill."

Kiara snorted. "Don't forget lord of the marsh." She gave an exaggerated bow. "We are not worthy!"

"Knock it off," Pope muttered, though he couldn't suppress a grin.

"Nah, nah, this changes everything," JJ continued, straightening up and addressing Hazel and John B like it was a boardroom presentation. "Bunk beds. Chateau Tannyhill. We're moving in. I'll take the room with the view."

John B cracked a grin, throwing an arm around Hazel, who was laughing quietly beside him. "You realize we'd probably get kicked out of there faster than JJ stole that ambulance, right?"

"I didn't steal it," JJ shot back automatically. Then, without missing a beat, "But seriously, I'm with you, man. We're moving in."

Hazel shook her head, smiling. "I'm not living anywhere with bunk beds."

JJ grinned, leaning closer with that mischievous glint in his eye. "You're right. Bunk beds are way too shaky for... you know, activities."

"Ew, man!" John B groaned loudly, pulling a face and shooting them a horrified look. "I did not need to hear that!"

Pope cut through their banter, his tone more serious now. "Look, guys. I can't stop thinking about the key. And that wheat symbol? It's connected to Denmark Tanny and the Royal Merchant. That's not a coincidence."

"Cross of Santo Domingo, right?" Kiara supplied, pulling out her phone and squinting at the screen. "It's like this... massive gold relic. It's worth more than all the gold we were chasing combined."

JJ's eyes lit up. "More than the gold? I'm listening."

"You just want a cut for a yacht," Pope deadpanned.

"Hey, if the crown fits," JJ replied with a shrug, grinning.

Before anyone could respond, the sharp click of expensive heels on wood pulled everyone's attention to the other end of the dock.

The woman approached with slow, deliberate steps, leaning heavily on her arm crutches. Her pearls gleamed in the afternoon sun, an unsettling contrast to the steely expression on her face. Behind her loomed Renfield, her hulking step-brother, his usual scowl making him look even more menacing.

The group tensed. Pope instinctively stepped in front of Kiara, while JJ let out a low groan, scrubbing a hand down his face. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Limbrey drawled, her voice dripping with deceptive Southern sweetness as she stopped a few feet away. "But we need to have a conversation. About the key."

Pope's jaw tightened. "Why do you even want it so badly?"

"It's not your concern." Limbrey's smile didn't reach her eyes. "But I'm afraid I'm out of patience. I need that key, and I won't stop until I have it. Which means you"—her gaze flicked between the Pogues—"don't have a choice."

Kiara scoffed. "You think we're scared of you?"

"You should be," Limbrey replied icily.

John B stepped forward, pulling a small key from his pocket and holding it up, the metal glinting in the sunlight. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Limbrey's face lit up, her mask of composure cracking for the first time. "Where did you... Yes. Yes, that's it."

"Thought so," John B said, turning it over in his fingers. "You see the tide right now? Pretty deep. If I tossed this baby into the channel, odds of you finding it are slim to none."

He cocked his arm back like he was about to throw it.

"No! Don't you dare!" Limbrey's voice cracked, panic flashing in her eyes.

Hazel smirked, crossing her arms as she stepped closer to JJ. "Someone's desperate."

"Please," Limbrey said, forcing her tone back to calm. "Let's be reasonable. I'll give you what you want in exchange for the key."

Pope stiffened, his voice firm. "The tape. You give us the tape proving what Ward did."

Limbrey paused, then nodded slowly. "Fine. You'll have your tape."

Hazel shot Pope a worried look, but he stepped forward to meet Limbrey's gaze. "It's okay," he murmured to his friends. "It's about my dad. That's more important."

JJ muttered something under his breath, clearly unhappy, but stayed quiet as Limbrey's lackey handed over a flash drive.

John B tossed the key her way, and Limbrey caught it with a greedy look in her eyes.

"You know," she said with a tight smile, "I wish we could've come to this decision earlier. All of this unpleasantness could've been avoided."

"Yeah, we'll send you a postcard," John B muttered, turning his back on her.

As soon as Limbrey disappeared down the dock, Kiara let out a sharp breath. "How long do you think we have until she realizes that's just some random key?"

Pope grinned, slipping the flash drive into his pocket. "Ten minutes, tops."

JJ let out a low whistle. "Whose idea was the fake key?"

Hazel smirked. "Shockingly, not yours."

JJ clutched his chest dramatically. "I'm offended. I bring so much to this group."

"Yeah," John B cut in, grinning, "mostly trouble."

JJ shrugged, unapologetic. "Trouble's fun. You're welcome."

Kiara shook her head, rolling her eyes with a smile. "We need to take this to Shoupe. Ward's done for."

Pope grinned, already moving toward the Twinkie. "Ward Cameron, it's your turn now."

JJ grabbed shotgun, grinning at Hazel as they climbed into the van. "Told you we're good at this."

Hazel snorted, leaning back against the seat. "Don't get cocky, Maybank."

As the Twinkie roared to life and pulled away from the docks, the Pogues couldn't help but feel it—just for a second—like maybe, finally, they had the upper hand.

* * *

The evening light filtered through the windows of the Chateau, casting a warm glow over the living room where the Pogues lounged. The tension from the day's events had ebbed slightly, but everyone was still on edge.

JJ sat slouched against the couch, tossing a beer cap up and down, while Kiara and Pope bickered over snack options in the kitchen. John B sat on the armrest of the couch, staring at the flash drive Pope had handed him earlier, the weight of its importance clear on his face. Sarah sat next to him, fidgeting anxiously with her necklace, her knee bouncing restlessly.

Hazel sat cross-legged at the far end of the couch, her phone buzzing silently in her lap. The name flashing across the screen made her chest tighten. Rafe.

Her eyes flicked up instinctively, meeting JJ's. He clocked the look on her face, the name on the screen. "Rafe?" he asked quietly, his tone already wary.

Hazel nodded, quickly tucking the phone against her chest as she stood up. JJ sat up straighter, his expression darkening. "You're really answering that?"

Sarah turned her head sharply, catching the name. "Wait—Rafe's calling you?"

Hazel felt all eyes shift her way, the weight of their stares pulling at her. "Yeah," she muttered, already heading for the door. "I'll be right back."

JJ watched her go, his jaw tight. "This better not be what I think it is," he said under his breath.

"Hazel—" Sarah started, but Hazel slipped out onto the porch before she could say anything else.

* * *

Outside, the faint hum of bugs and the distant rustle of trees filled the silence as Hazel accepted the call, stepping off the porch and pacing to calm her nerves.

"Rafe?"

The line crackled with heavy breathing before his voice finally broke through, shaking and panicked. "Hazel? Thank God. I didn't think you'd pick up."

"What's going on?" she asked cautiously, already feeling her stomach twist.

"Hazel, listen to me," Rafe rushed, his words erratic. "It's bad. My dad—he's gonna pin everything on me. The gold, Peterkin, all of it. He's setting me up. I know it."

Hazel froze mid-step. "Rafe, what are you talking about? Ward's already—"

"You don't get it!" Rafe cut her off, his voice cracking. "He's got plans, Hazel. He's good at this. He's already talking to people, telling them I'm the one who did it. I—I know how this works."

"Where are you?" Hazel asked quietly, panic creeping into her voice.

"Home," Rafe replied, lower now. "But it doesn't matter. I can feel it coming. He's gonna hang me out to dry. Please, you've gotta—"

Suddenly, Hazel heard shouting in the background. Loud banging rattled through the phone.

"Rafe Cameron, open up!"

"No—no, no, no," Rafe's voice spiraled, frantic. "Hazel—Hazel—"

The sound of doors crashing open filled the line, followed by muffled yelling and Rafe's strained voice shouting, "I didn't do it! I didn't do it!"

"Rafe?" Hazel's voice broke, but the line went dead.

The silence hit her like a punch to the gut. She stood frozen for a beat before sprinting back inside.

* * *

The living room fell silent as Hazel burst back in, breathless. The Pogues all looked up at her, instantly alert.

"What happened?" John B demanded, standing quickly.

Hazel tried to catch her breath, her voice shaky. "Rafe—he just got arrested."

Sarah shot up from the couch, her face pale. "What?"

JJ's expression darkened. "For what? Probably something he deserved."

Hazel turned sharply toward him. "No, JJ, you don't get it. Ward's setting him up. He's pinning everything on Rafe, the whole thing."

John B frowned, disbelief and anger mixing in his tone. "And we're supposed to care about Rafe? After everything he's done?"

Hazel stepped forward, her voice tight with frustration. "This isn't about Rafe! It's about Ward. If Ward gets away with this, Rafe takes the fall and Ward walks free. Is that what you want?"

Sarah sank back onto the couch, her face buried in her hands. "God, that's exactly what he'd do," she murmured. "He'll let Rafe take the fall."

John B glanced at her, clearly torn. "Sarah, after everything your brother's done—"

Sarah shot him a look, her voice shaking. "I know what he's done, John B. But I know what my dad is capable of too."

Pope rubbed his temples, his voice strained. "Hazel, this is insane. What are you suggesting?"

Hazel turned to him, resolute. "The tape. We edit it. Cut it so it only implicates Ward. If we don't, Ward gets away with everything."

Kiara shook her head, crossing her arms. "Hazel, come on. Rafe's not innocent. He deserves—"

"This isn't about him!" Hazel snapped, her voice rising. "It's about stopping Ward. It's about doing what's right."

JJ stepped in then, his tone quieter but steady. "You're sure about this?"

Hazel met his eyes, her chin lifting defiantly. "I'm sure."

The room fell silent, the weight of the decision pressing on all of them. Finally, John B let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. We'll do it. But Hazel, if this backfires—"

"It won't," Hazel said quickly, though her heart pounded in her chest. "It can't."

Sarah exhaled sharply, leaning back on the couch, her expression troubled but resigned. "If this is what it takes to stop him... we have to do it."

JJ stepped closer to Hazel, his voice just above a whisper as the others started arguing logistics. "You really think saving Rafe is worth the risk?"

Hazel looked up at him, her expression softening. "It's not about saving him, JJ. It's about taking Ward down."

JJ didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue either. He just stayed close, his shoulder brushing hers as they all turned toward the task ahead—one step closer to taking Ward Cameron down for good.

* * *