𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒𝟏

CHAPTER FORTY ONE bonnie & clyde, vol. 1

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MY EYELASHES BATTED blankly as I built up the tough exterior from my waitressing days, dusting off the book of rules that had been buried deep in my mind since I got fired. With losing my job came the thought that I wouldn't have to face Topper and Kelce for any days to come, and my assumptions were proven wrong like always.

Contrasting his previous reassurance that 'we couldn't be seen together', Rafe's hold on my hand was tighter than ever, staring back at his friends with a concerned look that opposed mine. Where I was once scared for their reactions, the feeling was replaced with anticipation, igniting the part of me that loved a good argument.

"So, you two are a thing now? Or is he just wine and dining you before he taps that ass?" Topper stared at our connected hands, his eyes widening once he made contact with the ring on mine.

"Top, watch your fucking mouth." Rafe replied calmly, his words not matching his tone.

I bit away any sign of a smile that painted across my face, trying my hardest to keep composure whilst the boy's expression turned sour. To a third person's perspective, it was easy to see how Rafe and I were an uncommon pairing. However, considering how familiar I was with all three of the Kooks, it seemed to come as more of a shock to them than to anyone else.

"Never thought the day would come when you'd become Foxy's bitch." Kelce's comments made up for his best friend's silence.

"I have a name, Kelce. Don't feel the need to repeat it 'cause you obviously know, but Rafe could do the honours, right? Little reminder of earlier for memory's sake." my grin was hidden by my lips wrapping around the lemonade straw.

"Cami, let me handle this." Rafe looked at me with an underlying glare, obviously not thrilled at how I chose to go about the reunion.

"Nah, let her speak." Topper voiced after being mute for the past minutes. "Show us what else your mouth is good for."

From just the touch I had on his skin, I could feel the anger start to rise in Rafe. It was known by almost the entire island that the Cameron boy was not somebody you'd want to cross the wrong side of, and I'd experienced first hand accounts times before. His suppressing of the emotion took the form of a wordless scowl, permitting me to continue with my choice of expression.

"Be careful, I might bite. Don't think there's enough down there anyway."

"I'd be happy to prove you wrong. What d'you say, Rafe, willing to let us take a turn with your girl?" Kelce placed his hands on my shoulders- an immediate green light for Rafe's calm facade to crack.

He shot up from the chair he once sat in, his sharp movements all blurring together before he landed his first punch into the centre of Kelce's face, causing his hands to retreat from me in an instant. Possessed by his anger, he didn't seem to pause the impact of his tensed fist for a split second- regardless of how much the third Kook boy was attempting to pull him away.

Similarly to the Midsummers night where events were repeated with me and Amelia, the people in the country club froze in the middle of their meals. Everyone watched in shock as Rafe showed no mercy to his 'friend', blood beginning to taint the polished flooring beneath them.

"Chill the hell out!" Topper shouted, noticing Kelce's battered body spread on the ground.

I couldn't help but smirk as I watched his chest stagger up and down, filling his lungs with any oxygen that his crimson-filled mouth allowed. Topper's knuckles swung into Rafe's nose, directing the boy's attention onto a new fight.

With both Kooks occupied with their brawl, I stood up from my seat to reach Kelce, my smile growing wider the longer I admired the cruel artwork. My Converse taunted the side of his hip, pressing into him until an audible wince escaped, signifying that I'd hit an impending bruise.

Ensuring that I shifted my weight onto his weak spot, I dropped down to my knees and straddled either side of his exhausted frame. My hand fixed around his neck, lifting his face to reach mine whilst also inducing a deserving level of pain.

"This is gonna heal beautifully, but I think somethings missing." I cooed with false pity, aware of my next actions as my gold ring tightened with the tension of my skin.

His head was still propped up with my help, permitting me to direct the metal into an already-open cut on his cheekbone. He jolted back with a lack of strength, the only thing blocking him from hitting the floor being my stern hold.

My involvement in their testosterone-ridden altercation brought me more of an adrenaline rush than I should be open to admit. I felt the blood from his ajar lip make its way down my forearm, leading my focus back onto his lower face.

The thrill of the moment was like a drug. I was in as much of an unconscious daze as Rafe was, the only thing that coated my vision being red. My manic smile grew with each drop of the colour that appeared on either my skin or Kelce's; I could only imagine myself to look insane.

I threw my fist into his jaw, adding onto whatever damage was already dealt. A shallow breath croaked from his throat, his weakness being something that brought me far too much pride.

"First one was for me, and that one was for Rafe. What d'you think, one more for good luck?"

Without room for an attempt at a third hit, I was dragged off my feet by a suited man, his strength not allowing any resistance on my part. I moved my vision to where Rafe and Topper once were, seeing him in the exact position I was. A country club wasn't the ideal place for a fight of such severity, and I knew it was predictable for security to come save the day.

As if he knew I was observing him, Rafe turned around to face me. His nose was the only affected feature, with blood painting the path that led to his lips. He flashed an equally crazed grin back at me, shortly after blowing the parted strands of hair out of his eyes.

"Could we at least get the food to go? I'm still hungry." I angled my head towards the security guard, meeting an unimpressed expression in response to my humour.

The both of us were thrown towards the club's exit, various polo-wearing members gasping at the scene that had just occurred. There was nothing we could do but laugh, our mania overcoming any remorse that was right to be felt.

"What the fuck just happened?" I laughed, raking my blood-ridden hands through my hair.

"Something that was long overdue. You should be thanking me." he smirked in response.

"I'm certainly gonna thank Topper for that bull's eye shot, red suits you." the pad of my thumb brushed against his upper lip.

Using the palm that was still cupping his face, I brought Rafe's lips down to mine. The metallic taste was quick to flood my senses, not bothering me enough to force our kiss apart. I didn't think I could make myself sound any more insane, but there was something about seeing him in that environment that made me want him like I never did before.

From the cuts to his scruffier hair, everything about him made my stomach twist into knots. I'd desired him on multiple occasions, but I knew this wasn't just a desire.

It was a need.

"Slight change of destination for our next place." he retreated from my lips. "You don't mind if I take you to Barry's right? I'll be quick."

"Adrenaline isn't gonna last forever, I could use a booster too."

My words led him to pull us back to the moored boat, not wasting a further moment at my ease for his request. Sobriety never lasted on a constant streak for me but, for once, there was no saddened intent behind my want for intoxication. Alcohol was what nurtured me when I was at my low, and drugs brought a high- one more euphoric than whatever I felt now.

Disregarding the book that I'd been so focused on mastering the language of, I chose to spend the journey admiring Rafe's features. The looming sunset casted a gold tint over his skin, causing him to squint from the obstructing sunlight. Even when he was utterly impulsive, I found beauty in what should've made me flee.

I'd wasted numerous moments in his company dreading the hurt he might cause me someday, but I was far beyond my sulking days. It was time I worshipped the sight before me, instead of wishing on a downfall that seemed less apparent as our relationship progressed.

He wasn't afraid to show me off in the most reputable area of Figure 8, despite it leading to physical consequences.

I couldn't help but laugh at my past self the longer I reminisced; what was I so afraid of?

"I didn't know you did coke. Always took you as the sedative type." Rafe broke the silence between us.

"I've done it twice. Wasn't a great experience, but I liked the high." I smiled, not trying to get too affected with the remembrance of said experience.

"That shit happens. You don't have to do it with me if you don't want to, okay? I'm not gonna get mad or force you or anything."

"No, I want to. You're not Noah, I won't get hurt." the use of my soft laugh stopped the mention from bringing me down.

Humour was always the best way to avoid seriousness, and I'd certainly learned that over the years.

"I remember realising he got you high at that dinner. It wasn't like you were trying to hide it, but that just made it hit harder. You looked happy, y'know?"

"I guess I was. Maybe your appeal to drugs didn't seem so strange after all." I played with the hem of my dress, avoiding the deep turn that our conversation was taking.

"Can't say the same for you. Why do you drink and smoke so much?" he asked, a solemn tone in the voice he used to convey the question.

I took a moment to dwell on his statement. Though I had previously thought of my addictions as a genetic inheritance, it seemed to be obvious to others that there was a hidden meaning behind them. Something more extensive, which I was never sober enough to comprehend.

"Sometimes it's fun, and other times it's not. That's like asking someone why they don't look twice at a crosswalk. For the risk, and with that comes fun."

"The shit that comes out of your mouth honestly makes me scared. If only you were as smart reading Shakespeare as you are talking about death." he shook his head, repeating the same laugh I used just seconds ago.

"Not my fault he was on crack when he wrote this. Also, forgive me for not having a private education, Mr. Trust Fund." I playfully shoved his knees, feeling better once both of us were in a fit of hysterics.

Being far too occupied with our pointless laughter, we'd arrived on The Cut quicker than expected. I'd never personally visited Barry's, despite his and my father's relations, but the area matched the description my mind associated with it.

His trailer wasn't much smaller than the bungalow I wasted my youth in, inhabiting the same scratched windows and run-down aspect of the exterior. A hum of fairly loud rap music could be heard all the way down at the marsh, increasing in volume the closer we got to his front door.

"Country Club's brought company!" Barry approached us with a crooked grin, swiftly taking Rafe in for a bro hug.

"Barry, this is—"

"No, I know her. She's Charlie's kid, Camilla?" he hesitated.

"Camille." I corrected, noticing the weary look in his eyes at the mention of my father.

"I don't sell Fent, if that's what she's here for." his whisper to Rafe was more audible than intended. "Both your dads have a reputation for getting me into shit, so y'all better be paying good."

"Um, just the usual. I don't do pills." Rafe muttered, his eyebrow raised out of curiosity for what he knew about my dad.

"What 'bout her, you a daddy's girl? Don't want history to repeat itself after 3 years." Barry eyed me up and down.

"You've got enough blood on your hands. Just give him the coke and we can go." I retorted, attempting to bite back at his comments without the need for another dead dad conversation with Rafe.

"Aight, my bad." he reached into his back pocket, pulling out the small bag of white substance and trading it for a series of folded notes. "Have fun with your Bonnie and Clyde antics."

"Thanks, Barry. See ya around?" Rafe took hold of my hand, leading us back to the marsh before his sentence even finished.

"Anytime, Country Club."

The boy wasted no time in diving into the white powder, scooping up a mound of the substance before we managed to settle down onto the boat. His rushed actions made it clear that the thrill of the fight was starting to wear off, and that he was rather desperate to carry on the artificial high.

He inched closer to where I'd been sitting, staying low on his knees so that he was nothing but a few centimetres above my lap. His lips curled into a grin that I knew represented the desire he had for me- becoming familiar with the expression considering how many times I'd previously seen it.

Without the need to say a single word, Rafe gestured to the bag pinched open by his fingers, my movements copying his exactly. I gathered the drug onto the pad of my index, knocking it back into my nostril whilst the other remained plugged. The soft gasp that came out of my lips as a result of the instant burn faded into a laugh, reminding me just how boring sobriety was.

"Lift up your skirt for me."

His hand had already travelled underneath my dress, using his touch to occupy my body where he could. I stayed in a breathless state of confusion while he continued to stare up at me, moving closer once he eased my legs open.

"What are you doing?" I exhaled, feeling my heart rate speed up whilst his lips marked their path along the hem of the material.

"Don't act like this doesn't make you crazy." he tilted his head upwards. "I'll let you have your control later but, for now, lift up your skirt like I asked."

I was unable to hesitate the more Rafe spoke to me. His words typically managed to coerce me into doing whatever he wanted, hence why I exposed the upper part of my thigh without a second thought.

A single line of cocaine formed itself on my skin with his help, though I couldn't entirely focus on anything apart from his everlasting smirk. Ensuring to keep direct eye contact with me, he snorted the powder in one swift movement, returning his lips back onto the same area seconds later.

Every last nerve in my body seemed to be amplified. I had been crazy for his touch even when I was sober, but there was something else about the added high that had me longing for him on a new level. His addiction was less irrational with each passing minute, definitely growing to overpower my dependency on alcohol.

However, no high would ever compare to what he brought me. Drugs brought a temporary euphoria, and he offered me things that I'd never feel with anyone else. There wasn't a chance I'd choose anything over him- neither now or in the future.

Rafe was my preferred method of destruction, and one that I wasn't planning on getting sober from any time soon.