Chapter Text
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of JJ’s one-bedroom house, casting soft streaks of gold across the worn hardwood floors. He stirred awake to the distant hum of waves breaking against the shore, a sound he had grown used to over the years. The Outer Banks had a way of waking you up gently, even if the mornings themselves felt heavy.
JJ rolled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he shuffled into the kitchen. The place was small but lived-in. A coffee pot on the counter, grease-stained work boots by the door, and tools scattered on the table told the story of someone who didn’t mind a little chaos.
He hit the button on the coffee maker, letting it groan to life, and leaned against the counter. His eyes drifted to the fridge, where a handful of magnets held up scraps of paper, receipts, and a single photograph.
The picture was faded, the edges curled slightly from years in the salty air. It showed him, John B, Pope, and Kiara, grinning wide on the deck of the HMS Pogue. Kiara was in the middle, her sun-kissed hair spilling over her shoulders as she leaned into him. That day had been perfect—the kind you don’t realize you’ll miss until it’s long gone.
JJ stared at the picture longer than he meant to, his coffee growing cold on the counter. It was stupid to keep it there, he thought, to let it pull at him every time he saw it. But no matter how many times he tried to take it down, his hand never quite made it to the magnet.
“Six years,” he muttered to himself, the words bitter on his tongue. Six years since she’d left the Outer Banks, chasing the world and leaving behind the people who had once been her whole life.
He had replayed her leaving a thousand times in his head, like a song he couldn’t stop humming. The first two years, things had been okay. She called, she texted, she sent pictures of herself in places he’d only ever seen in movies. There was that one Christmas when she came home, and they’d stayed up late on the beach, talking about everything and nothing. And then there was Australia.
JJ ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. That trip had been different, special. It was just him and her for almost two weeks, exploring beaches, drinking cheap beer, laughing until their stomachs hurt. He had never told her—never dared—but he’d thought about staying. He’d thought about what it would be like to wake up to her every day in a place like that.
But two months after he came back, she started dating someone. Dillon Owens. The name still felt foreign to him, like someone out of a story he wasn’t part of. At first, it didn’t seem like a big deal. Kiara was happy—she’d said so herself—and he wanted that for her. But then the calls got shorter, the texts less frequent, and before he knew it, she was gone. No explanation, no goodbye. Just silence.
He grabbed his coffee and walked out onto the porch, the cool morning air brushing against his skin. The Outer Banks stretched out before him, quiet and unchanging, and for a moment, he let himself imagine what life would have been like if she’d stayed.
But imagining didn’t change anything. Kiara was gone, and he’d spent the last six years trying not to let that fact get the better of him. He built a life here—a business, a home, a version of himself that didn’t need anyone else. It wasn’t perfect, but it was his.
The day had passed in its usual rhythm. Work at the shop, a beer with Pope, a quick stop by the Chateau to see John B and Sarah. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, JJ was back on his porch, nursing a second beer and watching the stars come out one by one.
He was halfway through his drink when his phone buzzed on the armrest. Frowning, he picked it up, the screen flashing “Unknown Caller.” JJ hesitated before answering.
“Hello?”
There was a pause on the other end, the kind that stretched just long enough to make him wonder if he should hang up.
Then, a voice he hadn’t heard in years—soft, hesitant, but unmistakable.
“JJ?”
The beer slipped from his fingers, landing on the porch with a dull thud. He barely noticed. His chest tightened, and for a second, he wondered if he’d imagined it.
“Kiara?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice shaky. “It’s me.”
He sat forward in his chair, heart pounding. A thousand questions raced to the front of his mind, colliding with each other. Where had she been? Why was she calling him now? But he couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.
“What’s going on?” he managed, his voice rougher than he intended.
There was another pause. He heard her take a deep breath, and when she spoke again, it was quieter, almost a whisper. “I… I need your help.”
JJ’s grip on the phone tightened. “Help? With what? Where are you?”
“I’m at the hospital,” she said, her voice breaking slightly on the word. “In Greenville.”
The hospital. That one word sent a chill through him. His stomach twisted as he imagined the worst. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, though her tone was anything but steady. “It’s not… It’s not like that.”
JJ’s brow furrowed as he leaned forward, gripping the phone tighter. “Then what is it, Kie? What’s going on?”
“I… I can’t explain right now,” she said after a pause, her voice trembling slightly. “I just… I need you to come. Please, JJ.”
That only raised more questions. “Kiara, you’ve got to give me something here.”
Her silence on the other end was deafening. He could hear the faint hum of voices in the background, the distant beep of hospital monitors.
“Kiara,” he pressed, his voice firmer now, “what’s going on? Why are you calling me after all this time?”
“I just… I didn’t know who else to call,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “Can you come? Please? I’ll explain when you get here.”
JJ rubbed a hand over his face, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. There was a time when she would have told him everything, when they didn’t need to ask for explanations because they already knew. But that time felt like a lifetime ago.
“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice softer now. “I’ll be there in two hours.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and for the first time, he caught something in her tone—relief, maybe, or desperation. He couldn’t tell which, and it left him uneasy.
“Kiara,” he said before she could hang up, “are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be okay,” she said, but her voice wavered, and he knew she was lying.
The line went dead before he could say anything else. JJ stared at the phone in his hand, the silence around him suddenly feeling oppressive.
He sat there for a moment, trying to piece together what little he knew. The Kiara on the phone didn’t sound like the girl in the photo on his fridge. She sounded… broken. And that scared him more than anything.
Finally, he stood, grabbing his keys off the table inside. He didn’t know what he was walking into, but one thing was certain: Kiara needed him, and he’d be damned if he let her down.
**************************************
The old truck groaned beneath him, its tires humming against the asphalt like a pulse that wouldn’t steady. JJ hunched forward in the driver’s seat, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting tensely on his thigh.
The window was cracked open, letting in the crisp night air, but it did little to cool the heat rising in his chest. His mind was running too fast, skipping from one thought to another, refusing to settle.
The highway stretched ahead of him, endless and black, flanked by dense woods that felt like they were closing in. The only light came from his headlights, slicing through the darkness in sharp, white beams, and the occasional glow of a passing streetlamp. The shadows of overhanging branches flickered across the road, erratic and fleeting, like the thoughts racing through his head.
Kiara’s voice echoed in his mind, the words soft and unsteady. “I can’t explain right now. I need you to come. Please.”
JJ tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles pale against the cracked leather. What the hell does that even mean? She hadn’t explained anything—why she was in Greenville, why she’d called him, why now, after all these years.
Anger churned in his gut, sharp and hot, bubbling up before he could stop it. She’d ghosted him—ghosted all of them—for years. No explanation, no goodbye, just radio silence. He’d reached out more times than he wanted to admit, sent texts, left voicemails, even tried calling her parents once, though he’d stopped himself before the phone could ring. Every time he’d gotten nothing in return, and every time it had stung just a little more.
And now, just like that, she was back. Not with an apology, not with an explanation, but with a vague, desperate request for help.
The anger was familiar, but it didn’t last long. It never did when it came to Kiara. Beneath the frustration was something heavier, something that had been weighing on him since the moment he heard her voice.
Worry.
She hadn’t sounded like herself. There was a shakiness in her tone, a hesitation he couldn’t ignore. Kiara wasn’t the kind of person to ask for help lightly—she was stubborn to a fault, always determined to handle things on her own. The fact that she’d called him now, after all this time, meant something was wrong.
The thought twisted his stomach, and his foot pressed harder on the gas. The truck groaned in protest, but he didn’t care. He had to get there. He had to see her, to make sure she was okay.
And then there was the other thing, the feeling he didn’t want to name but couldn’t shake.
Hope.
It was stupid, he knew that. Kiara wasn’t calling because she missed him, because she wanted to make things right or pick up where they left off. Whatever this was, it wasn’t about them. But still, hearing her voice after all these years had stirred something in him, something he thought he’d buried a long time ago.
His eyes flicked to the passenger seat, where an old soda can rattled with every bump in the road. The sight tugged at his memory—Kiara sitting there, legs propped up on the dash, teasing him about his music choices or flipping through his glove box to find snacks. The image was so vivid it almost felt real, and for a moment, it was like no time had passed at all.
But it had passed. Six years. Four years since they’d last seen each other, since she’d pulled away and left him to wonder what he’d done wrong.
And now he was two hours into a drive he hadn’t planned, heading toward a hospital in Greenville for reasons she wouldn’t explain.
Two hours.
She’d been this close the whole time. JJ felt his chest tighten at the thought. He’d spent years wondering where she was, imagining her in faraway places he couldn’t reach—Paris, Tokyo, Sydney. He’d convinced himself she was out there living the life she’d always wanted, and that had made it easier to let her go. But Greenville? That was nothing. He could’ve driven there any day.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Kie?” he muttered, his voice breaking the silence of the cab.
Had she thought about calling him before tonight? Had there been moments when she’d stared at her phone, his name on the screen, and decided against it? Or had she just… forgotten him?
The thought hit him harder than he expected, and he shook his head, trying to push it away. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. She had called now, and that was all he needed to know.
The city lights of Greenville came into view, faint and scattered against the horizon. JJ’s stomach churned with a mix of anticipation and dread. Whatever waited for him at that hospital, he wasn’t sure he was ready for it. But Kiara had called him—after all this time, she had called him.
And no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much of a mess he felt right now, JJ knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t about to let her down
The city lights of Greenville grew brighter as JJ’s truck roared down the highway, the hum of the tires shifting to a dull vibration as the asphalt turned to smoother pavement. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, each beat growing louder the closer he got. He could see the faint glow of the hospital’s sign in the distance, the tall building standing stark against the dark sky like a beacon.
His grip on the steering wheel loosened slightly as he turned into the parking lot, the crunch of gravel under his tires echoing in the stillness. The truck came to a stop in a poorly lit corner of the lot, far from the entrance. JJ turned the key, cutting the engine, and for a moment, silence filled the cab.
He sat there, staring out through the windshield at the hospital’s front doors. The automatic glass panels slid open and closed as people came and went, their movements blurred by his exhaustion and the fog of his thoughts.
JJ leaned back against the seat, running a hand through his hair. His chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a chain around it and was slowly pulling. He wasn’t ready for this—whatever this was.
What would he see when he walked through those doors? What kind of mess had Kiara gotten herself into? He pictured her sitting in some sterile waiting room, her face pale and tired, maybe with a cut or a bruise she’d try to downplay. His stomach churned at the thought, and his hand clenched into a fist on his thigh.
But maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe she’d just gotten sick or hurt herself, something minor. Maybe there was no mess, no crisis, and this was just her way of reconnecting, of testing the waters. JJ snorted softly. That would be just like her—stubborn enough to cut everyone off for years, but too proud to apologize outright.
Still, he knew better. The tone in her voice on the phone, the hesitation—it wasn’t nothing. Whatever had brought her back into his life, it wasn’t going to be simple.
He let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel. He hadn’t felt like this in years, like he was standing on the edge of something he couldn’t see, one step away from it all falling apart.
“You’re overthinking it,” he muttered to himself, the sound of his own voice grounding him.
He reached for the door handle, pausing for just a second. His reflection in the rearview mirror caught his eye—his face shadowed and tired, his jaw set tight. He didn’t look like the carefree kid he used to be. He barely recognized himself.
For a fleeting moment, he considered turning the key, restarting the engine, and driving back to the Cut. He could pretend this call had never happened, pretend that Kiara Carrera wasn’t sitting somewhere in that hospital waiting for him. It would be easier that way.
But that wasn’t who he was.
JJ pushed the door open, the cool night air rushing in and prickling his skin. He stepped out into the parking lot, the gravel crunching under his boots, and slammed the door shut behind him.
The hospital loomed ahead of him, bright and unwelcoming, its fluorescent lights spilling out onto the pavement. JJ squared his shoulders, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he started toward the entrance.
Whatever was waiting for him inside, he’d deal with it.
For her, he’d always deal with it.
**************************************
The hospital lobby was a stark, clinical space, all harsh fluorescent lights and gleaming white tile floors. The air was cold, sterile, carrying the faint smell of disinfectant and the buzz of a distant vending machine. JJ stepped through the sliding doors, his boots squeaking against the polished floor as his gaze darted around the room.
To his left, a tired father cradled a fussy toddler, gently rocking the child as he whispered soothing words. Nearby, an older woman slumped in a chair, her chin resting on her chest as she dozed off. The receptionist sat behind the desk, tapping at her keyboard, the soft clatter of keys filling the quiet space.
But none of them were her.
His pulse quickened, the anticipation mingling with dread as his eyes moved across the room. For a moment, he thought she wasn’t there, that this had been some kind of cruel joke or a misunderstanding.
Then he saw her.
She was sitting off to the side, half-hidden in the shadow of a large potted plant, her head bent low. At first, JJ barely recognized her. The girl in front of him looked nothing like the fiery, confident Kiara Carrera he’d known.
Her hair was longer now, cascading down her back in unkempt waves that seemed to have lost their usual shine. She wore a faded green jacket, frayed at the cuffs, with one sleeve pushed up just enough to reveal the faint outlines of old bruises on her wrist. Her jeans were threadbare, and her sneakers looked like they’d been through hell and back.
But it wasn’t the clothes or the hair that struck him. It was the way she carried herself. Kiara had always been the type to walk into a room and own it, her shoulders back, her chin up, daring anyone to challenge her. The girl sitting in front of him was a shadow of that person. Her shoulders were hunched, her body curled in on itself like she was trying to disappear.
Then his gaze dropped—and everything in him stilled.
There was a child in her lap.
A little boy, no older than four, was curled against her, his small body nestled into hers like he belonged there. His dark curls spilled across her chest, soft and wild, and his tiny hand clutched the fabric of her jacket as if letting go wasn’t an option. His face was peaceful, his lashes long against his cheeks as he slept.
JJ’s stomach twisted, a thousand emotions slamming into him at once. Confusion. Shock. Anger. And beneath it all, a sharp pang of something he couldn’t quite name. A kid. Kiara had a kid.
He couldn’t look away. The boy was small, too small, and something about the way he clung to Kiara made JJ’s chest ache. His gaze snapped back to her, his thoughts a jumbled mess.
And that’s when he saw the bruise.
It was dark and angry, blooming like a cruel flower on the side of her neck, just above the collar of her jacket. The sight of it sent a bolt of fury through him, hot and immediate, but it was quickly tempered by the weight of the moment.
“JJ,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the noise in his head.
Her tone was careful, almost fragile, like she wasn’t sure how he’d react. She shifted slightly in her seat, adjusting the boy’s weight without waking him, her eyes meeting his for the first time. They were the same eyes he remembered, but they carried a heaviness now, a depth that hadn’t been there before.
“Kiara,” he said, her name feeling foreign on his tongue after so many years.
For a second, neither of them moved. The air between them was heavy, charged with emotions he couldn’t begin to sort through. Then, as if the weight of the moment became too much, Kiara stood, the boy still cradled in her arms.
Before JJ could say anything, she crossed the space between them and wrapped her free arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.
It caught him off guard, her sudden closeness. For a moment, he just stood there, stiff and unresponsive, unsure of what to do. Then he felt the slight tremble in her frame, the way she pressed her face against his shoulder like she was trying to hold herself together, and something in him softened.
His arms came up slowly, hesitantly, careful not to disturb the boy between them. He held her just tightly enough to let her know he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“You came,” she murmured against his shoulder, her voice barely audible.
“Of course I came,” he replied, his voice low but steady.
When she pulled back, he finally got a closer look at her. The dark circles under her eyes, the gauntness in her cheeks, the way she held the boy like her life depended on it—it all hit him at once, the full weight of how much she’d changed.
His eyes dropped to the boy again, and the knot in his stomach tightened. “Who…” His voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat. “Who’s the kid?”
Kiara hesitated, her gaze dropping to the child in her arms. She smoothed his curls with a trembling hand before looking back at JJ. “This is Jamie,” she said softly.
The name landed like a punch to the gut. JJ’s mind reeled, trying to process what she’d just said. Jamie. Her Jamie.
He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. His gaze flicked back to the bruise on her neck, the protective way she held the boy, and the exhaustion etched into every line of her face. There were too many questions, too much he didn’t understand.
Kiara seemed to sense his turmoil. “Not here,” she said quickly, her voice firmer now.
Her eyes darted around the room, and JJ realized for the first time that they weren’t as alone as they felt.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to nod. She was right—this wasn’t the place.
“Alright,” he said, his voice tight. “Let’s go.”
Kiara nodded, shifting Jamie on her hip as JJ grabbed the worn duffle bag at her feet. He slung it over his shoulder, the weight of it grounding him as he turned toward the doors.
As they stepped out into the cool night air, JJ couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her again. She looked fragile, worn, but there was a flicker of resolve in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Whatever had brought her back, it wasn’t just a whim.
And whatever it was, it wasn’t over yet.
**************************************
The hum of the engine was the only sound filling the cab of JJ’s truck. Outside, the dark ribbon of highway stretched endlessly ahead, illuminated only by the faint glow of the headlights. The road was empty, the quiet night broken occasionally by the passing blur of a streetlamp or the distant whine of a lone car speeding in the opposite direction.
Inside, the silence was thick. Heavy. It wrapped around them like an invisible shroud, and for the past hour, neither of them had dared to break it.
JJ’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white as he stared straight ahead. He tried to focus on the road, to keep his mind from spiraling, but his eyes kept drifting to the passenger seat, to her.
Kiara sat quietly, her body angled slightly toward the window as if she wanted to disappear into the glass. The dim light from the dashboard cast soft shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp lines of her cheekbones and the faint hollows under her eyes. She looked fragile, and yet there was a quiet strength about her, a determination that clung to her even in her stillness.
Her hand rested protectively on the small boy in her lap—Jamie. The kid was fast asleep, his head nestled against her chest, his small frame rising and falling with each steady breath. JJ’s eyes lingered on the boy for a moment, a strange mix of emotions churning in his gut.
But no matter how much his gaze shifted to Jamie, it always came back to her.
She looked different. Older, maybe, or like someone carrying the weight of a thousand battles no one knew about. The carefree light he used to associate with her—the spark that made Kiara Kiara—was dimmer now, flickering faintly beneath layers of exhaustion and pain.
And yet, even with the changes, even with the distance between who she was and who she had become, she was still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
It hit him like a sucker punch, the realization so sudden it made his chest ache. After all these years, after everything, she could still take his breath away without even trying. She didn’t have to smile or laugh or give him one of those knowing looks that used to drive him crazy. She just had to be.
JJ tore his gaze away, his heart thudding in his chest as he gripped the wheel tighter. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this—not after everything. Not after six years of silence, of wondering where she was and why she’d left.
She caught him looking this time, her eyes flicking toward him briefly before darting back to the window.
His stomach twisted. He wanted to ask her a million questions, to demand answers, but the words caught in his throat every time he tried. It wasn’t just the boy—it was everything. The years of silence. The way she’d vanished without a word. The fact that she’d been two hours away—two hours—and he’d had no idea.
Two hours. That thought kept circling back, gnawing at him like a splinter under his skin. She’d been so close, and he hadn’t known. How long had she been here? Months? Years? Had she thought about reaching out before? And why now, after all this time?
The boy stirred slightly in her lap, letting out a small sigh before settling again. JJ glanced over, watching as Kiara instinctively adjusted him, her movements gentle and practiced. It hit him all over again—this wasn’t just some kid. This was her kid.
Jamie.
He let out a slow breath, his mind spinning. Kiara was a mom. That thought alone was hard enough to wrap his head around, but there was more. The bruise on her neck, the exhaustion in her eyes, the way she’d clung to him back at the hospital—it all pointed to something darker, something he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear.
His stomach churned as his imagination filled in the blanks, each possibility worse than the last. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep his emotions in check.
Ten more minutes passed in silence, the tension pressing down on him until he couldn’t take it anymore. His voice broke the stillness, low and hesitant.
“Do your parents know about him?”
Kiara’s head turned slightly, her eyes still fixed on the dark road ahead. “Yeah,” she said softly. Her tone was clipped, her answer brief. “They know.”
JJ glanced at her, waiting for more, but she didn’t elaborate. Frustration bubbled in his chest, but he swallowed it down. This wasn’t the time to push her.
“What about… where you’re staying?” His voice was quieter now, almost unsure. “Do you have somewhere to go?”
Kiara didn’t respond. The silence stretched out, her gaze locked on the window as if she hadn’t heard him—or didn’t want to answer.
JJ’s grip on the wheel tightened, his frustration threatening to boil over, but then he exhaled, forcing himself to stay calm.
“You’re coming to my place,” he said finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. It wasn’t a question.
Kiara’s head turned, her eyes meeting his briefly. She didn’t argue, didn’t fight him on it. Instead, she gave a small nod, her expression unreadable.
JJ didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse.
The rest of the drive passed in silence, the weight of unspoken words heavy between them. When they finally reached his driveway, JJ killed the engine and sat there for a moment, staring out at the darkened outline of his small house.
“Home sweet home,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than her, before glancing over. Kiara still hadn’t moved, her hand resting protectively on Jamie’s back.
JJ let out a slow breath, steeling himself. Whatever came next, he wasn’t sure he was ready for it—but he’d deal with it. He always did.
“Come on,” he said finally, opening his door and stepping into the cool night air.