𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒𝟕

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN love is blinding

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TIME WAS NEVER something I could wrap my head around.

How was it that, from such a young age until now, the concept of love was something I wouldn't even dare to dream of? I had so many years to dwell on the feeling, and only got my first glimpse of it once 18 of them had passed. 18 years, for that matter, that felt like the most exhausting span of time I'd lived through.

But, on the flip side, how could the self-accepting period where I was finally able to put a label on my feelings go by so quickly? After so long, loving him was the one thing I was finally sure of enough to put a label on, and it was all erased with a single gunshot.

A gunshot that could cost someone their life, and cost me my sanity.

I doubt I was fully sure that I loved Rafe; how was it physically possible that I could? The capability to love someone wasn't something I believed to have, as each of my days was spent in self-loathing and convincing myself that I wasn't worthy of the emotion.

In my books, there was a fine line between love and infatuated attachment, and I think I may have smudged every last part of it.

Lovers don't excuse their partner's violence based on the version of them they got to know- that's the work of infatuation.

And that was the sole reason why I was so eager to get out of the car and be on Rafe's side: because I'd felt a blur of things towards him and was left with the only hope of preserving the positivity.

If there was any.

Chasing final doubts for my impending actions down with the liquor in my hand, I slammed the car door behind me and inched closer to the source of the gunshot. There was no point in me even attempting to seem sane after everything, so I simply approached the scene with a blank face as nothing expressed my feelings more; drained.

The flat-lipped frown I possessed didn't flinch for a second whilst I was met with the sight of Rafe pointing the gun in a police officer's direction, soon enough recognising her to be Sheriff Peterkin. Like clockwork, her frail body dropped straight to the ground the second I came into view, exposing the horrified faces of Sarah and John B.

"Camille, you're in on this too?" Sarah exclaimed whilst the boy beside her rushed to tend to the wounded woman.

At the sound of her calling out my name, Rafe turned back to face me with the faintest hint of worry, "You should've stayed in the car, fuck."

"No, I shouldn't have." I placed my hand on the upper part of his free arm, moving his focus entirely onto me, "I made a promise, I'm gonna help you."

John B reached out for the sheriff's radio device, seemingly ready to call for help at her weak demands. Pausing whatever act of reassurance I was trying to inflict, I grabbed the gun from Rafe's hold and pointed it in his direction.

"Don't you fucking dare." I spat, realizing that having him signal more police officers would only end worse.

"Cami—" he attempted to reason with me, his eyes wide with fear.

"I'm not your 'Cami' anymore," my arm extended out to him with the gun still in my hand, "you think our past excuses what you're trying to do? Put the fucking radio down."

"John B, give me the radio." Ward interfered.

Allowing me to shift attention from their developing disagreement, Rafe wrapped one arm tightly around my waist, holding me close to him to provide both safety and comfort. I kept the same arm extended which gave him the permission to glue his hand onto mine, giving us both control over the weapon. He pressed an extensive kiss on the crook of my neck, returning his focus to the chaos before us moments later.

An unnecessary laugh escaped my lips the longer I watched Sarah break down into tears, remembering how the roles were practically reversed the last time I'd seen her. I'd never have to experience that sort of humiliation again, thankfully, because my power outweighed any words they could shoot in my direction.

"Rafe, Camille, calm down. I've got it." Ward revealed the radio in his grip, allowing my manic laugh to pause in order to take a sigh of relief. "Put the gun down."

"Don't listen to him." Rafe whispered into my ear, keeping a firm hold on my hips as his father tried to reaffirm his statement.

"He's gonna call the cops, I know he will." I jolted forward with the gun, still angered at the fresh wound that'd opened up the second I linked eyes with John B.

"He can't do anything." he raised the radio again, "I got it. Y'all are okay, just put the gun down."

Contrasting everything Ward said in aims of convincing us of safety, the boy got up from beside the sheriff and strolled backwards, leading me to the fact that he was planning to run.

"Where you running off to, pussy?" I launched out of Rafe's grip, keeping the weapon pointed at him.

I watched John B sprint away from the airstrip, my attempts to chase after him being blocked by Ward pulling me back. Without second thought, I tossed the gun into my boyfriend's hands, rather more occupied with freeing myself from the older Cameron's restriction. No amount of wrestling broke me away from him until he was completely out of sight, permitting Ward to drop me back to my feet and clutch his head out of stress.

"Dad, I was trying to—" Rafe started.

"Shut up!" his father yelled in response, to which I had to physically bite my tongue to prevent another fight from breaking out.

"You did what you had to do." I held onto his cheek, shooting a disgusted glare back at the rest of his family, "I'm here. We're gonna figure this out, okay? We, me and you. Promise."

"What is wrong with you?" Sarah cried out. "She is dying!"

"Rafe, take your sister home. Get her home." Ward tore him away from me.

"Oh, please, she'll be fine on her own. We don't want her in the car any more than she wants to be in it." I rolled my eyes, scraping every last restraint in me to stay quiet.

"I'm not going anywhere until the medics come!" she sobbed uncontrollably.

The older man's demands continued, "Take her home, both of you!"

"I'm not involved," I sighed, "I'll be waiting in the car."

The sound of Rafe and Sarah's back and forth yelling thankfully grew quieter once I sat myself in the vehicle, met with the same bottle of peach liqueur I left behind. I  wasted no time in emptying the contents into my system, needing as much intoxication to help ease the vast array of emotions within me.

Burning my throat with the liquor progressively countered the metaphorical burn in my mind as I failed to process everything that'd just occurred. There was a chance I'd walked away from that airstrip as someone lost their life, but the fact that hurt more was that I wasn't affected in the slightest.

I trusted Rafe and, if he believed the gunshot to be necessary, I automatically did too.

"Don't move!" his presence was in time with my thoughts, the command being aimed at the girl now in our backseat.

"Must say, Sarah, you are quite the actress." I laughed, breaking the neck of the bottle away from my lips.

"How are you laughing right now?" she said in both disgust and confusion, "An innocent woman probably lost her life because of you— both of you."

"She was a cop. Are cops really that innocent? Rafe, what d'you think?" I asked as he entered the driver's seat.

"I did what I had to do."

"He did what he had to do," I repeated, "and so did I."

Taking one last gulp of alcohol, I passed the bottle over to Rafe's outreached hand, watching him drink a large amount whilst driving at the same time. He wasn't a stranger to driving under the influence so the action didn't phase me in the slightest, but I couldn't say the same for his sister.

"Do you mind?" her exclamation was close to a shriek, "I'm still in the car, and you two have killed more than enough people today."

"I don't mind, and I don't think Rafe does either. You're in our car, so I suggest you stop being a little bitch or you'll end up on the side of the road."

"I thought you were a feminist, Cami." she paused her tears to snark back, "Calling me a bitch isn't very Malala of you."

"Feminism has its exceptions." I stated before taking another extensive sip, "Currently, you happen to be one of them."

The girl quickly returned to crying like she had been for the past moments, knocking her head back against the headrest as her sobs became louder and louder. Rafe and I instinctively turned to face each other, laughter coming from my part and eyes rolling on his.

"You wanna know why I did it, Sarah?" he spoke up.

"Please, enlighten me." she mocked.

"You saw the gun she was pointing at him. She was gonna blow his head off."

"No, she was arresting him, Rafe." she leaned forward, her face inches away from our seats.

"Okay, I couldn't just sit there and let it happen." he continued his reasoning, "She was gonna—"

"She was gonna kill him." I finished his sentence, noticing the stress he was under and locking our hands together.

"Yeah, yeah. She was gonna kill him." he nodded.

To my surprise, a tear made its way down his cheek, accompanied by the increasing rate of his breaths. His chest rose shakily, aiming to steady each breath he took but failing as they progressed with more movement. All I could do was hold onto him, aware that I couldn't possibly say anything to help because I'd only be contradicting my own thoughts.

We were both being eaten alive with the guilt of our hands, and some could even say it serves us right.

Whilst I was focused on silently comforting Rafe, Sarah made a poor shot at opening the car door, not being agile enough to notice that I was aware of her plan. I sharply pressed my free hand against the child lock button, leaving her sitting embarrassed in the backseat.

"Nice try, Rapunzel. Looks like you're still stuck with us." I turned back to face her, met with the greeting of her middle finger.

"I swear to God, Sarah. I've had it with your bullshit!" the volume of his voice returned to a shout, "You need to focus, you understand me?"

"Do you realise what you've done?"

"I saved Dad." he breathed out after a brief silence, causing the hold I had on his hand to tighten. "What was I supposed to do, okay? Sit there and hope for the best? Listen, I'm— We're proactive people."

She placed her hand on his car seat with a sigh, which Rafe noticed and took it as a sign to break away from our touch.

He took hold of her wrist, "Sarah, we're proactive people."

"Get off of me. Don't you dare touch me!" she threw herself out of his hold, hypocritically as she didn't seem to care when it was me being restrained by her dad.

"I don't know about you," I inserted myself into the conversation, "but hope isn't a strategy for us. Everything gets handed on a silver platter to you, of course you don't know how we feel right now."

"Rafe!" she screamed, alerting him just in time to avoid us from swerving into another car.

The near-collision resurfaced the buried stress in me, presenting an open invitation for me to finish off whatever was left in the glass bottle we bought earlier. Destruction was best served with a side of peach liqueur, and this day made me learn that fact to a whole new level.

"I'm the problem solver in this family, okay?" Rafe panted, still unable to regulate his breathing pattern. "Okay?"

"Okay!" Sarah yelled back for the last time, deciding from that point forward that it'd be best for her to stay quiet.

❊ ❊ ❊

The truck pulled into Tannyhill's driveway, a bittersweet sight considering this was one of the last places we visited before everything went to shit. I let go of Rafe's hand for the first time once the ignition switched off, allowing him to exit the car and leave me and Sarah alone.

"Silence suits you," I faced her again, "if only you knew when to keep your mouth shut."

"If only you knew how to use your mouth apart from using it to drink from liquor bottles." she bit back.

"You don't wanna know where my mouth has been," I shook my head, reaching back into the backseat to get closer to her, "ask your boyfriend."

I slammed the car door after my statement, met with Rafe standing inches away from me. I used the free moment to plant a short but affectionate kiss on his lips. It wasn't the most ideal of situations to be completing such acts, but it simply felt right. I kissed him because it felt right, and because I loved him.

That was something I was now 110 percent certain of.

"Hey!" Rose's presence was enough to tear us off each other, "Your dad's not gonna like that you're back home."

"Uh, he told me I could come here." he confirmed.

"Well, he didn't tell me. He didn't tell me you were coming back either." she looked me up and down, pausing at where my hand connected with Rafe's.

"What can I say? Missed Tannyhill too much." I smiled bitterly, knowing the woman was the thing I missed least about the place- if I even missed anything.

As Sarah crawled out of the car and back in Rose's direction, the woman's face became ridden with confusion, "Why aren't you on the plane?" she questioned.

The quiet that fell was deafening, despite the racing thoughts in my mind not allowing for a single second of silence. I was lost in a spiral of my own guilt, which was confusing considering I felt no remorse for what had actually happened. Guilt tainted each one of my thoughts like a taunting life lesson of everything I should've felt, but ultimately didn't.

"Ask Rafe and Camille." her eyes shifted between us, the phrase being the last thing said before she headed to the house.

The boy wordlessly copied her actions, taking both of us back to what was once his room in the mansion. At the sound of the door clicking shut, the unphased exterior he built up came crashing down, tears staining his cheeks as he sank down onto the bed.

I immediately rushed to him without question, my reaction amplified because of how I'd never seen him at his breaking point. Sensitivity was a trait I valued in people, especially guys, knowing on a first hand account how much preserving a tough persona destroys you. Like he'd done to me when I cried in his arms, I held onto either side of his face, resting my chin on top of his hair and allowing him to pour out anything he needed to.

For his benefit, I made sure not to break out into tears myself, although seeing him like this was enough to break my heart into thousands. It was equally killing me not to tell him I loved him, as much as I was purely aching to. I couldn't selfishly turn this moment onto myself; I had to pay sole attention to how he felt for once. So, I resorted to whispering the words in between kisses, that was they were still spoken but not loud enough to silence him.

Love can wait, but I'm not sure he can.

"You're okay, you're okay." I reassured, noticing his sobs begin to quieten down.

"Can we not talk? I don't want you to see me like this." he spoke against my chest.

I'll love you either way, I nearly said.

"Of course," my voice cracked instead, "I just want you to know you're okay."

Following a rather long exhale, Rafe brought his hands to the back of my head and pulled me to crash my lips with his. Surprised, it took a few seconds for me to register what was going on, but met him with the same passion after accustoming to the drastic change in emotion.

His hands trailed down my back and rested on the pockets of my denim shorts, using the grip as guidance for me to position myself onto his lap. I did so without question because, although I wished to deny it at a time like this, his touch was something I craved whatever the circumstance.

"Are you sure you wanna do this now? Sex doesn't fix everything, you can talk to me." I broke away from him, however not for long as his lips couldn't stay parted from mine.

"Mhm." he hummed in response.

"I need to hear you say it." I pleaded.

"Yes, I want to do this." he paused. "Do you?"

"Of course I do."

My words were a green light for our actions to resume, with Rafe not wasting any further time in reaching for my t-shirt. I moved all my hair to the side, ready to lift my arms and permit him to pull the yellow cotton over my head.

Halting our movements in an instant, 3 knocks sounded against the bedroom door, to which we both rolled our eyes.

"Wheezie, not now." Rafe groaned, reminding me of how his sister had interrupted us earlier this morning.

"Rafe, it's your father." the knocks returned again; an immediate sign for us to involuntarily stop what was about to happen.

"Uh, one sec." he mumbled, the stress of facing Ward again and clearing all signs of the previous minutes blurring together.

I turned myself over to sit beside him, throwing a pillow from the mattress in order to cover his lap. Ensuring my shirt was still covering me, I nodded to signal to Rafe that I was ready for anything we were about to face.

I didn't know it then, but that nod was singlehandedly the biggest lie I'd ever committed too.

I was not ready in the slightest, and I only realised once it was far too late.