XXXIV. Renegades

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Defeat... That's what happened. Ward Cameron won. We lost. I was an idiot to think that we could actually pull this off. We set ourselves up just to be let down once again. The only thing we could do now was bask in the misery that Ward Cameron has casted upon us.

John B finally came back to the Chateau and explained everything that happened. Ward attacked him on the boat. John B escaped and headed to Lana Grubbs house, where she told him that Ward killed Big John. He made it to Tannyhill, but there was no showdown with Ward.. There was also no finding Ashtyn on John B's or Luke's end.

The second worst part of it all, other than our missing friend, was that Ward took all the gold. There wasn't a single bar left in the well at the Crain House. Ward Cameron won.. He beat everyone looking for the gold.

"It's not like I expected a happy ending or some shit." John B groans while throwing his cast against the dock. The plaster takes a few bounces before finally landing in front of Kiara. John B's arm was free of any remnants of having a cast.

"John B." The brown haired girl says, a concerned look on her face as John B had taken his cast off sooner than he should have.

"What, Kie? It's a hairline fracture. Who cares?"

"You should care. Your arm's gonna be messed up for life." She scolds, Kiara's protective instincts taking over.

John B holds up his arm, wiggling his fingers, "It's fine. See?"

I sigh, leaning my head against the wooden pillar behind me, lightly hitting it off of there in frustration a few times. Next to me, JJ sat up against another pillar with a newly lit joint in his hand. I immediately held my hand out so that I could get a hit of it. I could feel my body tensing and that I was becoming more stressed the longer I sat here with the group and talked about losing the gold. I could use something to help me relax right about now.

The joint hits my lips and I quickly inhale the smoke, blowing it out with ease. JJ's blue eyes were on me the whole time, even though there was a sound of faint footsteps coming from the end of the dock.

No one turned around until we heard Pope screaming, "Guys! Guys!" He shouted, making a dead sprint down the wooden dock. When he arrived at the end of the dock in front of us, he was out of breath, "Oh! Oh, God. I ran all the way here."

"You all right?" Luke questions, sitting up to get a better look at Pope who was in a very flustered state.

"How was the interview, Pope?" I ask. Seeing that Pope was in dress pants and a dress shirt, I knew he had come from his scholarship interview.

"Don't ask." He responds still out of breath. By the looks of it, he must have run all the way here from his scholarship interview on the other side of town.

"Awesome." John B half heartedly states, holding a pitiful thumbs up to his friend.

Pope turns his attention to John B, "JB... Look, I'm sorry, dude. About everything."

"It's fine." John B says, brushing off Pope's statement.

"But--but I don't have a lot of time, and--and  I have information that is tactically relevant." Pope begins, his voice starting to pick up and his breath growing a little less shaky. Whatever information Pope had better be good. None of us were in the mood to hear any other bad news. "So, before I had my interview, my dad said he was going down to the private airstrip to cut palms for Cameron's big plane. Because it was too heavy, it needed a longer landing strip to take off. So, I'm sitting in my interview, thinking to myself, 'Hm. Why would Cameron need a longer airstrip to take off? What could be so heavy to weigh it down?'"

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