32. A Plan's A Plan

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THIRTY-TWO A PLAN'S A PLAN

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THIRTY-TWO A PLAN'S A PLAN

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Even as night crawled into the morning, John B was nowhere to be found. Norman, JJ, and Kiara had resorted to sitting on the docks and staring out at the ripples on the water as they tried to figure out where to go from here. Trading ideas back and forth wasn't going well since none of them were really prepared to handle this sort of situation.

"What if he hopped on the ferry and ran to the mainland?" Norman asked as he leaned against the wooden railing of the dock, his eyes glued to the way the sunlight reflected off of the small ripples.

"Uh, I don't think we have to worry about that," Kiara exclaimed, causing Norman to turn around and see none other than John B running straight for them. For the first time all day, he felt like he could breathe again.

As the boy met them on the docks, Norman grabbed him in a tight hug as he breathed the boy in, just glad that he was alive and safe and nothing bad had happened to him. It felt almost too good to be true when he felt the way the boy held him back. JJ and Kie joined in on the hug, all of them relieved that he was okay more than anything else.

"Guys, happy reunion is gonna have to wait, I have bad news," John B sighed as they all pulled apart. The boy got settled on the dock, laying down with a life raft beneath his head as he began to explain, "I went back to the Crain house. Ward Cameron bought it, essentially. I went down into the well --"

"Alone?" Norman exclaimed, "Do you know how dangerous that was?"

"I don't care, I needed to know," the boy shook his head, his eyes glued to the wooden cover of the dock. "It's gone. He took all of it."

Kie sighed, "You sure he got everything?"

He nodded, "Every bar. The whole enchilada."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Norman sighed to himself as he leaned against the railing once again, except this time he was facing John B. He didn't want to take his eyes off of him for fear he was going to disappear again.

With a grunt, John B pulled his ragged cast off of his wrist as he flexed the limb. Tossing it aside, he said, "Look, it's not like I expected a happy ending or some shit."

"John B--" Kie began, but was cut off.

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

"You should care, your arm's gonna be messed up for life," the girl sighed.

"Eh, the right doctor can fix it--" Norman began, but when he saw the girl's death glare he shut up quickly. After last night, he could determine that he did not want to be on the receiving end of Kiara's wrath in any sense of the word.

PSYCHO ― John B. Routledge ✓Where stories live. Discover now