𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒𝟖

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT guilty hands, troubled minds

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"WE NEED TO talk."

Rafe and I barely gathered ourselves before Ward swung the door open, the words he spoke coming of no surprise to either of us. His blood ridden hands- rather literally, as opposed to the metaphorical blood on ours- left a crimson print to taint the white wood. I stared at the stain with growing remorse, realization starting to creep its way in through whatever window of vulnerability was creaked open.

"Figured." I spoke back, masking my boyfriend's deafening silence when it came to facing his father.

"Camille, take him to my office. I'm sure you know where it is considering what you stole from it. I won't be long." he instructed, traces of hatred and disgust in the tone of his voice.

"Please, take all the time you need." I muttered under my breath, timing the speech just when he'd turned around to avoid further confrontation but maintaining enough volume to make the boy beside me slip a chuckle.

I stretched up from the mattress I'd been sitting on, expecting Rafe to subconsciously follow my lead. Instead, his head remained hung towards the floor, similarly to how it was when tears were flowing from his eyes just minutes ago. Though I previously thought it best to not say anything that could push him into deeper sadness, I couldn't simply stand back and watch him wallow in the guilt of something that was equally the fault of mine as his.

My hands caringly caressed the sides of his face, bringing him to an angle where I could meet his lips with a tender kiss. I indulged in the affection before we mutually pulled away, our foreheads and noses continuing the touch that our lips broke. Tangling my fingers in the strands of his roughed hair, I closed my eyes and intended to focus on each happy memory we shared, in hopes that the remembrance would hinder the return of my dreadful feelings.

In the past, I always thought either me or him would've killed the other, clouded by the feud we had based solely on our societal status. But, now it seems we're the death of those around us, and that very change was one I'd never prepared to face.

"We're okay." I whispered, convincing myself in the process, "We're okay. You're okay, I'm okay. We're okay, Rafe."

"No, we're not." he unexpectedly broke his silence to also break my chain of lies.

"Shh, we're gonna be just fine. Nothing's gonna hurt you, and nothing will hurt me."

"You don't know that." he shut me off again.

I laughed for a single second, unaware of how condescending the act was, "Yes I do."

"No. I might be fine, but I don't know what's gonna happen to you. What if I do something again? What if you end up on the other end of the gun because of me?"

"Rafe—" I started.

"Stop, Camille. Just fucking stop. Stop." he repeated, tearing my hands away from where I held him and unknowingly causing me to take a step back, "There's things you can't promise, that I can't promise. I don't know what will happen with us. I can't let anything happen to us."

"We will be completely unharmed. I'm by your side through everything, and that's a promise I can undoubtedly make. You will never hurt me because I'm always gonna be by your side through all of this. I don't care who's on the other side, as long as I'm on yours, I don't care." I stopped myself before the 3 word phrase escaped my lips, using every restraint in me to hold back the confession at a time like this.

By nature, my hand clasped onto the hemline of my shirt, choosing the one that covered my collarbone rather than the one at my waist. I pressed my palm flat against my pulsating chest, the beats posing as some form of coded message to both console and scold me at once. My eyes didn't shift at all away from Rafe, watching in anticipation and fear for his next move.

"Hey, hey." he inched closer to me, aware that I'd taken another step back, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you were right. I'm sorry, Cami." his arms grasped onto my body, almost as if he'd read my mind and finally realised that I needed his comfort.

I collapsed into his comforting hold, our bodies fitting together like the last remaining pieces of a scattered puzzle. We were far from complete, and far from portraying the image we wanted to, but simply being together made us the most complete we would ever be.

I no longer felt complete, I was complete, and all because of Rafe.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I'm scared myself." he confessed the reason behind his words.

My face lifted from being buried in his chest, "You didn't scare me. Who said you scared me?"

"You started playing with your shirt. You do that when you're scared or nervous. No one told me, I just knew." he tucked any stray hairs behind my ears, pulling me in so that he could press a series of kisses onto the top of my head, "Now c'mon, my dad's gonna think we're fucking or something."

"I'm sure he has other things to worry about." I snarked, gesturing to the blood left on the edge of the bedroom door.

Quietly, we paced the halls of Tannyhill until we landed back in Ward's office; the door wide open and the room still empty. I followed Rafe's lead in analysing one of the plaques on his desk, seeing a picture of him and Ward presented beside the title of the award: OBX's very own businessman of the year.

Rafe grasped the frame in his hands as he went to sit down, followed by me doing the exact same. I picked my seat on the couch beside him, our knees brushing against each other and my head laid on his shoulder. The more I stared at the photo, the more I understood just why Rafe fired that fatal shot.

Through everything, he was just a boy who wanted his father's love and approval, also highlighting that I was just a girl who, at the end of the day, wanted her mother to be in the best of care.

I found my thoughts drifting solely onto May, be it by choice or not. I hadn't spoken to her in over a month, regardless of how many back and forth calls were made to the hospital. Even if her alcoholism hindered the typical mother-daughter affection between us, I missed the days where I'd see her face and think of her as a person and not a paycheck.

Like Rafe did for Ward, I'd harm anyone who even attempted to harm her. But, considering she's the only person ever willing to hurt herself, the fact I was saving her life with each dollar I worked for was a real life juxtaposition.

Now was the worst of times to realise just how much I missed her.

Thankfully snapping me out of my thoughts, Ward found his way back to his office with a scowl, locking the door behind him as quick as he'd opened it. I lifted my cheek from Rafe's shoulder, turning part of my attention onto the man and the other part onto the hem of my shirt again.

"Did... did she die?" the boy beside me questioned.

Without a single word leaving his mouth, his father confirmed our fears with a simple nod, stating the truth that Sheriff Peterkin died by our hands. I let out a slow and audible exhale through my lips whilst Rafe raked his hands through the already scruffy mess on his head.

"Okay." he sighed, leaning back into the surface of the couch.

I continued rolling the material between my fingertips, trying to bury the need I had for a cigarette and rather more for the burn that'd occur once I'd put it out using my skin. The thought of those actions hadn't dared to cross my mind since I was last spiralling, therefore posing as a preview for what was to come.

That was something I wasn't ready for at all, and no amount of verbal reassurance could convince me otherwise.

"What did you tell the cops?" Rafe inquired again, "Are they coming here?"

Ward pierced his eyes into me before clutching the nape of his neck with his newly-cleaned hands, "I can't tell you that, son."

"What do you mean you can't tell me? Did— did you tell them I did it?" his voice sounded panicked, arguably with good reason.

"No, Rafe, I'm not an idiot." the anger-laced voice he used to talk to his son made my stomach turn, my fingers twisting shakily around the yellow cotton of my t-shirt.

"Then what did you tell them?"

"Don't raise your voice at me!" Ward's statement was hypocritical, seeing as his volume exceeded Rafe's by miles. "I can't tell you, it's better if you don't know. All you need to know... is that I'm keeping my family safe."

As soon as the word 'family' was mentioned, a scoff was rushed out of my lips, the same reaction being earned nearly every time it was mentioned. Amplified by the realization of how far gone May was from me, the last thing I wanted was to feel like a stranger in this house again. I was only back for an hour or so, and already I'd been shunned out like some sort of vermin.

Was I ever going to be anything to anyone but Rafe?

"Rafe, I need you to go to your room." Ward resumed. "I need you to clean up, take a shower, alright? Anybody asks you, you were here all day. You were doing maintenance on the Druthers."

"No, Rose knows I wasn't here. And what about Cami? It's her job to work the Druthers. If I tell people otherwise, they'll start asking questions." Rafe linked his hand with mine, defying everything his father was asking.

"I will talk to Rose, okay? Please, just do what I say." he reaffirmed sternly.

"What about Cami?" Rafe enunciated.

The older man sighed, "I don't want you two in the same bed, in the same room, tonight. Camille's room has been left the same as it was. She'll go back to work tomorrow morning as usual, and everything will go back to normal. Trust me to clean up the mess you made."

"And Sarah?" I spoke, the sudden sound of my voice shocking everyone in the room, "She was with us, you gonna take care of her?"

"She's right," Rafe tightened the grip he had on my hand, "Sarah... Sarah has a big mouth, okay?"

"Sarah's fine, she wouldn't sell the family out."

"No, you don't understand." he stood up as his father insisted that there wasn't reason for us to worry about Sarah. "You didn't see her in the car. She's flipping out, Dad. She'll sell us out."

"Rafe, stop!" his father yelled, automatically making my fist tightened with fabric enclosed in it. "I don't need your help right now. I didn't need it then, I don't need it now. I just need to think. So, please, go clean up!"

I froze in fear for Rafe as Ward's rage increased by the second, desperately wanting to comfort him but holding myself back since I knew the man disliked me enough. My eyes couldn't hold the strength to look up beyond my hands, directing all my focus onto the fidgeting of my fingers and not on the visible scene ahead of me.

"You understand, right?" Rafe's question stopped his father from leaving the room, "You understand?"

He exhaled deeply, "Understand what, Rafe?"

"Why I did it." he paused, "You were in trouble, and I was protecting you. Okay? Look, me, Dad. Rafe, not Sarah, okay? It was me."

His softened voice and occasional cracks made it clear that Rafe had let his sensitivity take the best of him, tears pouring out like acid rain as a result of the need for his dad's polluting love. Even if I deemed it embarrassing to cry in my mind, I sort of admired each wet stain that haunted his cheeks.

I fell in love with him because of how flawed he was, as each of his flaws linked to one of mine. There were notably many surface level differences between me and Ward, but the main one was that I loved Rafe through and because of the things he did; no one else would do that for him.

No one will ever love him like I do, and I wanted to tell him that more than anything.

"I'm sorry." he muttered.

"I know," his father responded, "Come here, come on. C'mon, bud. I'm sorry."

My eyes met with the peaceful horror in front of me, lifting from where they'd once been glued to the floor and now focused on Rafe and Ward's embrace. Although some part of me was destined to be happy considering all Rafe wanted was to be seen by his father, the way he shouted moments before clouded any further opinion I could have on him.

He didn't deserve Rafe, and didn't deserve any fake niceties I could throw his way.

Unbeknownst to the pair who were still engaged in their affection, I picked myself up off the office couch and returned to the house hallway, my breath finally stabilising now that I'd left Ward's company. I rested my back against the nearest wall for a moment of recollection, hitching the overwhelming need for a cigarette for as long as I could. The cigarette itself wasn't the problem, it was the action that followed once I'd finished it that was one I wasn't ready to face- no matter how much I needed it to control my flow of emotions.

The statement Ward said earlier played on a loop in my mind; Rafe and I weren't allowed to stay in the same room. I needed to be in his arms now more than ever, and being back in the house where our secretive affair first started wasn't bound to help if we were expected to return to sneaking around again. There was nothing more exhausting than having to pretend to be unknown to him; I couldn't force either of us to live through that again.

Retracing the path I'd gotten used to taking in my time living here, I carried myself to where I remembered Wheezie's room to be. My nostrils flared to take in one final inhale before softly knocking on her door, silently praying to any and every God that she'd follow along with my plan.

"Hey, Wheeze." my cheek pressed against the wood, getting as close as possible so that my words weren't easily heard by those around us, "It's Camille, I really need you right now."

I laced my voice with amplified sadness, all that was already felt being raised to new levels to gain all the sympathy I could. There was a split moment where everything I felt was close to resurfacing, which would've pushed me in the direction of success but not worth the turmoil that overpowered it.

"Wheezie, please open the door." I begged once more, the doubt that she wasn't in her room starting to become worrying.

"Jesus, Cami, I was busy. It doesn't hurt to wait." the young girl met me with her usual sarcasm, a relief to the tension I'd faced all day.

My act blurred with reality as the urge to hug her was one I immediately gave into, unaware of how awkward it was for her until I released to see the confused look on her face. I rubbed my eyes to make it seem as if I was in tears- something that was easy to fake since it wasn't far from the truth.

"Are you okay?" Wheezie furrowed her eyebrows.

I swallowed harshly, "Can I come in? I wanna talk to you about something, friend to friend."

"Uh, sure..." she hesitated, slowly leading me inside her bedroom.

I followed her lead in sitting down on her bed, not failing to keep up my persona as if there was more to it than just being a game of pretend. My head fell hung towards the carpet-coated floor, playing any tricks I could to raise her understanding of the situation.

"What's going on? Have you been crying?" she gathered the hints I'd been giving, "Wait, since when are you even back?"

"Something happened, your dad needed us to come back." I sobbed falsely.

"Cami, calm down. You said you wanted to talk."

"Ward..." I was close to gagging as his name left my mouth, "he's not letting me stay in Rafe's room tonight— at all. Something really really bad happened to us, and I won't be able to sleep alone."

"It's just one night, I don't get it." she said with misunderstanding.

"Wheezie, you out of everyone in this house should know how much he means to me. He's told you about everything that's happened, and you know it's not been easy." I chose to direct my feelings onto her, knowing she wasn't as aware of my plan as I expected.

She shrugged, "Well, Dad's not gonna listen to me, so I'm not gonna try that. I could talk to Sarah—"

"No!" I panicked, "Wheeze, you cannot tell Sarah about this."

"Okay..." her confusion was becoming more prominent.

"Look, I really need my boyfriend right now. I was thinking you could help both of us and just sleep in my room tonight. Rafe's has a lock, so no one's gonna find me there, but Ward or Rose might check mine. You don't need to do anything but stay in my room and keep this on the low. Please, Wheezie."

A sigh left her lips the second I finished pleading, my chances of her compliance slipping away with each second that passed. The reality that I may have to spend the night cradled in my own arms with only the thought of Rafe was starting to set in, the bitterness of the memories of our early relationship creeping up at the same time.

"Are you guys gonna be quiet? Your room's like... right next to his. I don't wanna hear anything I shouldn't." she asked jokingly.

"God, Wheezie," I laughed amidst my false tears, "I swear we're not gonna do anything. You have my word."

"Fine, I'll stay in your room," her agreement nearly forced a squeal on my part, "but, there's one condition."

"Shoot." I nodded, awaiting whatever she was about to ask and ready to agree no matter the demand.

"I've never seen Rafe so happy when he's with you. He'd kill me if he heard this but you're all he ever talks about, and he's constantly calling me to make sure he's buying you the right gifts or doing the right things. Promise you'll keep him like this? You've actually turned him into a likeable person."

"I promise."

I couldn't help but smile at the security of being able to stay with him for another night, and the security that Wheezie's confession provided. Everything about Rafe made me happy to such extreme lengths, ones that I'd often struggle to come to terms with. Happiness wasn't an emotion easily felt by someone like me, yet he made it feel so natural.

I could say with confidence that he did make me happy, at one point or another, but it was hard for that slither of joy to overlook my everlasting misery- now amplified by the recurring thoughts that were brought out of hiding by today's events. I wanted nothing more but to let him continue being the reason behind my highest moments, though I knew if I did I'd only end up dragging him down with me.

He deserves so much more than the car crash I have to offer.