RAFE'S POV:
Rafe spent the entire night tossing and turning, his mind unable to escape the weight of everything he'd done. The comfort of your body next to his, the warmth of your presence, was only a brief balm for the storm raging inside him. He thought being with you would quiet the madness, but now, in the stillness of the night, the guilt and fear clawed at him. His skin was slick with sweat, every breath coming harder as his thoughts spiraled deeper into the darkness. The events of the last few days replayed in his mind like a broken record—over and over again, suffocating him.
By morning, the need to escape became too much. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake you. You were the only good thing left in his life, and he couldn't bear for you to see him like this, to see the wreck he'd become. He rummaged through his drawers, searching for the cocaine he knew would take the edge off, and give him some momentary peace, but his hands came up empty. Nothing. His heart pounded harder. The room felt like it was closing in on him, too small, too confining.
Rafe pulled on his shorts and a t-shirt, the fabric clinging to his sweat-drenched skin. His mind was racing, his nerves frayed. He needed more than the rush of a line—he needed to forget. Without a second thought, he grabbed his helmet and left the house, each step feeling heavier with the weight of his choices. As he stepped outside, the frustration boiled over. Muttering to himself, Rafe slapped his face lightly, trying to shock himself into some sense of reality, but it wasn't enough. In a fit of rage, he threw his helmet to the ground, watching it roll away before he picked it up with trembling hands.
Once on his dirt bike, Rafe let the engine roar, tearing down the road in search of one thing—an escape. The wind whipped around him, but it didn't drown out the chaos in his head.
"Barry!" Rafe burst into the familiar dingy space where Barry lived, his voice loud and desperate, cutting through the stillness. Barry was mid-line, his head jerking up at the sound of Rafe's entrance.
"I need cocaine," Rafe demanded, his voice ragged.
Barry blinked, startled and then annoyed at the intrusion. "I'm all out, man. That was my last line right there. Everybody done came and did a run on me. People are stocking up for this storm," Barry explained, his irritation clear.
Rafe didn't believe him. He couldn't believe him. He needed the high to drown out the panic creeping in, to still the shaking of his hands. Without waiting for an invitation, Rafe started searching through Barry's cabinets, his movements erratic, his desperation growing with every second. "Oh, I know you got it in here, bro," he muttered, his voice shaking.
Barry's patience snapped. "No, I don't got anything in here! I'm all out, man!" Barry's voice rose, frustration clear as he followed Rafe around the room.
"Bullshit, man! You're full of shit," Rafe spat, storming into Barry's room like a man possessed.
Barry was on his heels, his anger barely restrained. "What did I say, bitch? I'm out! I'm out, bitch! Get out of my room!" He shoved Rafe out, but the desperation in Rafe's eyes was hard to ignore.
Rafe's breathing grew erratic, hyperventilating as his hands trembled uncontrollably. "Where is it?" he gasped, his eyes wide and frantic. "I know you got some."
Barry stepped back, confused by the intensity radiating from Rafe. "What the hell done got into you?" His voice softened, a hint of concern slipping through the annoyance.
Rafe's chest heaved, and the dam finally broke. He sank to the floor, his legs giving out beneath him as sobs wracked his body. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, each one carrying the weight of his guilt, fear, and helplessness. "Because I... I—" His voice cracked, the words choking in his throat.
Barry's eyes widened, the reality of Rafe's breakdown settling in. "Oh, shit, man. Hey. Hey, look, dog," Barry said, his voice softer now, moving closer. "Hey, Rafe? You're good. You're good. Breathe, man. Just breathe."
Rafe tried, but every breath felt like a battle. "Have you ever, uh... have you ever done something you never thought you would? Like, something... something bad?" Rafe's voice wavered, his vulnerability raw and exposed. His teary eyes locked onto Barry's, silently pleading for some kind of understanding.
Barry tried to lighten the moment, but his attempt felt hollow. "Uh, what you done, Country Club? Was you late to a tee time? Huh?" Barry chuckled weakly before sighing, realizing this was serious. "You can talk to me, man. Just... just tell me whatever the hell you done, 'cause I can promise you, whatever it was, I done worse, bro. I was in the army."
But Rafe wasn't laughing. He couldn't. His entire world was unraveling. "I did, uh... something," he whispered, barely able to say the words. "And now I'm... I'm fucked, man, like, totally. Like, a hundred percent, I'm fucked." His voice broke, the sobs returning as tears streamed down his face. "Like, for life, man. There's... There's no way out of this, bro."
Barry stood there, at a loss for what to say. The carefree, cocky Rafe he was used to was gone, replaced by someone broken, someone teetering on the edge.
••••••
When you woke up in the morning, the bed beside you was empty. Rafe wasn't there. You hadn't even felt him slip out, and as you lay there, staring at the empty space next to you, a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. He must have gone back to searching for John B, and it made you feel like last night had been for nothing—like all the effort to calm him, to get him to stop, hadn't changed a thing.
You quickly dressed, pulling on your clothes with an urgency, as if you could somehow catch up to him and stop whatever he was planning. As you made your way downstairs, hoping to leave unnoticed, Rose spotted you, her sharp voice stopping you in your tracks.
"I didn't know you were here," she said, her tone surprised as she eyed you closely. She added, almost to herself, "And Sarah's not here?"
"Uh, yeah," you stammered, trying to think of an excuse but fumbling over your words. "I was with Rafe."
The confusion on her face deepened. "With Rafe?"
You nodded, feeling a bit awkward under her gaze. "Yeah... maybe I shouldn't be the one to say this, but we're together."
"Together, like dating?" Rose asked, her voice edged with surprise. You nodded in response. "Since when?" she pressed, still taken aback.
"It's been about a week, so... it's still fresh," you explained, trying to gauge her reaction.
Rose raised her brows, but her expression remained composed. "And I guess you know what he did?" she asked, her voice softening as she leaned in slightly. "Ward told me you were there."
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that memory settle heavily on your chest. You didn't want to think about it, didn't want to relive the horror of that night. "I know," you admitted quietly. "But I won't say anything. I don't want him to end up in jail."
"I understand," Rose replied, her voice steady. She didn't flinch at the mention of what Rafe had done. She knew all too well the lengths the Cameron family went to protect their own. Rafe had killed one person, but Ward... Ward had blood on his hands too, far more than anyone outside their circle knew.
"Please don't say anything to my mom," you added quickly, realizing the conversation was slipping into dangerous territory. "I haven't told her about Rafe and me yet."
Rose's expression softened, and she nodded. "I won't say anything," she assured you. "But maybe I could invite your family over for dinner. The two of you could tell them then."
You smiled, relieved. "That would be nice."
With that, you hurried out of Tannyhill, your mind still racing. You didn't know whether to go look for Rafe or check on Sarah to make sure she was okay. But first, you needed to go home—eat something, change your clothes, and take a moment to think.
On your way back, you stopped a few people, asking if they'd caught John B yet. Each answer was the same—they hadn't. Which meant Rafe was still out there, hunting for him. And you weren't sure how to stop him.
••••••
You were driving your bike through Figure 8, your heart racing with the tension that hung in the air. You spotted a familiar car. It was Kie, and you could see JJ in the passenger seat. They were heading toward the Cut, and something deep inside you told you they knew where John B and Sarah were. Without hesitating, you followed them, keeping a safe distance.
The car eventually stopped at a small, rundown house, and you watched as JJ hopped out and disappeared inside. Now was your chance. You parked your bike on the side of the road, letting it fall to the ground, and approached Kie, who was still sitting in the driver's seat.
"Hey, Kie," you called out, your voice catching her off guard.
Kie's eyes widened in surprise. "Y/N, what are you doing here?" She hadn't expected to see you, especially not after everything that had gone down between Sarah and the pogues.
"I followed you," you admitted, standing awkwardly by the car door. "I wanted to know if you know where Sarah and John B are."
Kie was silent for a moment, clearly contemplating what to say. Finally, she sighed. "We're supposed to meet them at the dump."
"Can I come with you?" you asked quickly, your voice softer. "I know I stopped talking to you when Sarah did, and I'm sorry, but if you and Sarah worked things out, maybe we could as well..."
Kie hesitated, studying your face for a moment, trying to read your intentions. After a beat, she nodded. "Uh, okay, get in."
Relief washed over you as you quickly opened the back door and slid into the seat. "Thank you," you murmured. Moments later, JJ returned, sliding into the passenger seat without noticing you at first. Kie started the engine, and the three of you drove off towards the docks in silence.
The boat dock was eerily quiet as you hopped out of the car with Kie and JJ. The air was thick with tension, and every sound seemed amplified in the stillness. JJ moved with purpose, unlocking a padlock to reveal an old racing boat hidden beneath a tattered sheet.
"There she be," JJ declared proudly, pulling the sheet away to reveal the worn boat beneath. "Hey, girl. A 1983 Formula 402 SR1." His voice brimmed with excitement as he ran a hand over the boat's surface. "The Phantom."
Kie hummed noncommittally, sharing a glance with you as you both nodded politely.
"The first boat to make the run to Bermuda in under 16 hours, Kie. Forty years old! Forty. And still the fastest thing that Kildare's ever seen." JJ's passion for the boat was palpable, his enthusiasm bouncing in the air.
Kie raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "It's kind of a junker."
JJ scoffed, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Really? She's right there, Kie. She can hear you." He pointed dramatically at the boat, muttering under his breath. "Let's just put it this way. You would not be smokin' weed right now if she never existed, okay?"
"I just hope it runs," Kie said, crossing her arms as she assessed the boat with a critical eye.
JJ shot her a confident grin. "Oh, no, she'll run all right. She's faster than any cutters the boys in blue got."
Before the conversation could go any further, the sound of a motorcycle approaching made the three of you turn. Kie and JJ expected to see Pope pulling up, but instead, your stomach dropped when you saw who it was. Rafe.
"Hey there," Rafe smirked as he walked over, his eyes gleaming with something dark as they landed on Kie. But when his gaze shifted to you, the smirk faded, and his face hardened.
"Rafe—" you breathed out, unsure of what to say. His jaw clenched, silently reprimanding you for being here with the pogues.
Before you could explain yourself, a chilling laugh rang out. Barry.
"Well, well..." Barry drawled, his voice slow and venomous as he raised a gun, pointing it directly at JJ. "Don't think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I'm here because I want my motherfuckin' money." He punctuated his words with a sharp hit to JJ, sending him stumbling.
"JJ! JJ!" Kie gasped, panic flooding her voice. Before she could react, Rafe grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. His grip was firm, and you could see the fear flash in her eyes as he dragged her away from the boat.
"It's not you we want, Kie," Rafe said, his voice low and menacing as he backed her against a stack of shelves. "Where's John B?"
Kie didn't hesitate. She slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the small space. "I don't know!" she screamed, her voice trembling with fear and defiance.
Rafe's head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, and he paused for a moment before slowly turning back to face her. His eyes burned with rage. "I really wish you didn't do that," he sneered, his tone dangerous.
Kie's voice wavered as she shot back, "I know what you did."
Rafe's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "What? What did I do?" His voice was icy, daring her to say it.
"You murdered Peterkin," Kie spat, her voice louder now.
For a moment, Rafe froze, his gaze darkening as his jaw clenched. Then, in a swift motion, he grabbed her by the neck, his fingers digging into her skin. "Don't you ever say those fucking words again. Understand? Do you understand?"
"Rafe! Let go of her!" you shouted, rushing forward and trying to push him off, your hands shaking with fear. But he didn't budge, his grip tightening as he glared at Kie.
"Where's John B? Huh?" Rafe shouted again, his face contorted with anger.
Kie choked, shaking her head frantically. "I don't know! I don't know!"
"Please, Rafe..." you pleaded, grabbing his arm, and trying to drag him away. He was hurting her, and your heart raced with fear.
Out of nowhere, Pope barged in, swinging a metal pole and hitting Rafe hard, knocking him off balance. "Don't touch her!" Pope shouted, his voice filled with fury as he struck Rafe again.
Rafe quickly regained his footing and retaliated, punching Pope square in the face, and sending him stumbling. The two of them exchanged blows, their fists flying with an intensity that left you frozen in fear.
"Rafe!" Barry shouted, pulling out his gun. But before he could aim, JJ lunged forward, grabbing Barry's ankle and tripping him over. The gun flew out of Barry's hand, sliding across the floor.
"Kick it!" JJ yelled at you, his eyes wide with urgency. You looked down at the gun, your heart pounding in your chest, and without hesitation, you kicked it under the boat, out of reach.
You dropped to your knees beside Kie, who was gasping for breath, her hands clutching her throat. "Pope!" Kie croaked, her voice strained.
You turned just in time to see Pope still beating Rafe, his fists relentless as they slammed into Rafe's face.
"Pope, that's good! Stop!" Kie called out, struggling to get the words out.
"He's had enough, dude!" JJ hollered from the other side of the room, tossing a battered Barry to the ground.
"No. Let him go," you screamed, your voice shaking as you watched in horror while Pope strangled Rafe with a tube, his eyes wild with rage.
"Snap out of it, dude!" JJ barked, his voice frantic.
"You're killing him, he can't breathe," you warned, your eyes wide with fear, watching him struggle for air.
"Pope! Get off!" Kie shouted, her voice more desperate now.
JJ rushed forward, grabbing Pope from behind and yanking him off Rafe. "Dude, come on, stop!"
Finally, Pope let go, dropping the tube and stepping back, his chest heaving with anger. Rafe lay on the ground, blood trickling from his mouth as he gasped for air.
"Shit. Oh, shit," JJ muttered, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Rafe, blood splattered across his face.
You knelt down next to Rafe, your heart aching at the sight of him so beaten and broken. "Rafe..." you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of worry and sadness.
Rafe looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot and teary, but he shook his head weakly. "Just go," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, knowing that he wasn't happy with you. You hesitated for a moment longer, then slowly stood up.
"Y/N, you coming?" Kie's voice called from the car.
You looked down at Rafe one last time, your heart heavy with guilt and confusion, before turning and walking away. As soon as you climbed into the car, Kie slammed her foot on the gas, speeding away from the docks.
"What was that?" Kie asked, her voice sharp as she glanced at you in the rearview mirror.
"What?" you replied, your mind still spinning from everything that had just happened.
"You and Rafe?" Kie pressed, raising an eyebrow as she met your gaze in the mirror.
You sighed, your voice defensive as you answered, "I was just making sure he wasn't dead."
Kie didn't seem convinced but chose not to push further. "It looked like more than that, but fine," she muttered, her eyes flicking back to the road.
••••••
When you arrived at the dump, the distant wail of police sirens filled the air, adding to the tension already weighing heavily on everyone.
"Dude, where is he?" Kie complained, her arms crossed as she paced nervously. Her eyes darted around, scanning the horizon for any sign of John B.
Pope stood firm, trying to keep everyone calm. "Give him a second. He'll be here."
"He's coming. He'll be fine," JJ added confidently, but even his usual bravado couldn't mask the worry creeping into his voice.
The sound of a police siren suddenly made you all spin around, and your heart raced as a cop car pulled up right in front of you.
"JJ!" Kie's eyes widened with fear, her body tensing. The anxiety in her voice was palpable.
JJ quickly turned to her. "Hey, yeah. Get back on the boat," he urged, his tone urgent. "Untie it."
"Shit," Kie cursed under her breath as she started moving toward the boat.
The car door creaked open, and everyone froze, holding their breath. But instead of a cop stepping out, John B emerged, his face lit up with a familiar grin.
"Wait. No way," JJ muttered, his disbelief spreading across his face.
"No fucking way," Pope echoed, his voice a mixture of shock and awe.
"I'm sorry," Kie snapped, her eyes wide with astonishment.
"You've gotta be kidding me," JJ said, but this time his shock turned into an excited grin.
John B chuckled, clearly enjoying the confusion. "Uh... Shoupe let me take it for a spin."
"Okay, that's believable. I'll buy that for now," Kie laughed, the tension easing as relief washed over the group.
"It wasn't easy, bro," JJ admitted with a proud smile, tossing the boat keys to John B, who caught them with ease. "But I got the Phantom for you, and she runs like she was made yesterday." JJ's grin widened. "You ready to go?"
John B's eyes scanned the area, and his expression grew serious. "Where's Sarah?"
A knot tightened in your stomach. You'd been so focused on John B that you hadn't realized Sarah wasn't with him.
"She's not with you?" You asked, concern creeping into your voice.
John B shook his head, worry flashing in his eyes. "No, we got separated in the swamp. She said she'd meet me here."
Pope glanced around the dock, his face tightening. "No, we haven't seen her."
John B's jaw clenched, determination flashing in his eyes. "Okay, well, I'm not leaving without her."
You could see the worry etched in his features, and your mind raced with thoughts of where Sarah might be. Thunder rumbled in the distance, the darkening clouds signaling an approaching storm. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating.
John B hopped into the boat, preparing to leave as the pogues gathered around to say their goodbyes. You stood a little further back, unsure of what to say as emotions swirled in your chest.
"Tell Sarah I said goodbye, okay?" John B asked, his voice cracking with emotion. He tried to maintain his composure, but the weight of leaving his friends behind was clearly taking a toll.
You all nodded, silently sharing the gravity of the moment. As he started the boat, the engine roared to life, and the sound echoed across the water. The boat began to pull away, drifting further from the dock as John B steered it toward the horizon.
But as you turned around, the sound of approaching sirens sent a jolt of panic through you. "Hey, guys, I'm sorry to ruin the party, but, uh, we gotta go right now."
You moved toward the car, your heart pounding in your chest. Just as your hand reached for the door, a cop car screeched to a stop in front of you, blocking your path. You stepped back, throwing your hands up in the air, as did JJ and Kie. But Pope, always stubborn, marched toward the officers, his fists clenched in frustration.
"Put your hands up!" one of the officers barked, holding their guns steady.
"We're too late. He's gone. God damn it!" Shoupe growled, slamming the car door in frustration. He stormed over, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. He glanced at all of you, his expression hard. "Where's John B?"
None of you said a word. The silence hung heavily in the air as you stood there, defiant and resolute. Shoupe's patience was wearing thin, but before he could press further, a voice crackled through the radio.
"Suspect just left station 26 in a small boat," the radio operator announced, and Shoupe's expression twisted in frustration.
The officers swiftly moved in, cuffing each of you. You winced as they roughly dragged you toward their cars. The sky had turned pitch black by the time they hauled you out of the vehicles. The sound of reporters and onlookers buzzed around you as they guided you through the chaos, cameras flashing and questions flying through the air.
The agents sat you down on foldable chairs inside a large tent. Shoupe barked orders at his deputies. "Sit down. Don't move. We got a lot to talk about."
You glanced around nervously, hoping to hear any news about Sarah and John B. The tent buzzed with activity, officers darting back and forth, phones ringing, and radios crackling.
"The blockade is up at the marsh and Masonboro and all other inlets from Shem Creek to Breach Inlet. I want eyes on all coastal access points, people. Let's get this guy!" one of the men in charge shouted, his tone filled with authority.
The four of you sat in tense silence, ears straining to catch any bits of information from the frantic crowd of officers. Suddenly, the power flickered, and all the lights blazed back on. Your heart raced as you heard someone shout.
"That's them! There they are!" a man's voice rang out. The chaos intensified, voices overlapping as officers scrambled in all directions.
Your breath caught in your throat. Them? You realized with a jolt that they were talking about both John B and Sarah. She was with him.