summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: this is lowkey a little ass but Santa came early this year so...(thanks for waiting 67 years for the ending of this series.) A Christmas present from me x
warnings: allusions to past abuse/assault/arguments, soft!rafe and Soft!bunny and lots of fluff with a some angst.
Early morning light slipped through the long curtains which brushed against the wooden flooring, and thin golden rays stretched along the cool planks. Somewhere outside, the distant sound of birds and the hush of the ocean was not too far off, yet inside the room everything was slow and quiet. The sheets shifted softly as Rafe stirred behind her, an arm draped loosely around her waist. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, his lips lingering against her skin, unhurried like he had nowhere else to be. Then another, and another. His lips traced upwards over the curve of her neck, her jaw, the apple of her cheek, before he brushed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, like he was memorising her. Y/N smiled before she even opened her eyes,
“Are you gonna eat me next?”
She murmured, her voice still thick with sleep and amusement. Rafe’s grin widened against her skin. “Mmmm,” he hummed thoughtfully before suddenly ducking beneath the covers,
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea...”
She laughed immediately, the soft sound bouncing off the walls of the room as she started reaching to grab blindly for him.
“Rafe— stop. Come back here.”
He resurfaced with a lazy smile, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at her properly as he balanced above her, his eyes soft in the morning light. He brushed his thumb softly against the skin of her cheek, lingering like he couldn’t help himself.
“G'morning”
He said quietly, like it was something meant only for her to hear. Y/N's hand reached up, slowly smoothing up his chest before looping around the back of his neck, fingers brushing into the prickly hair of his buzzcut. “How'd you sleep?” she asked after a quiet beat, stretching slightly beneath the sheets.
"Good"
"Yeah?"
"Probably cause you were by my side"
She hummed softly at that, a little smile tugging at her lips like she couldn’t help it. Her fingers lingered at the nape of his neck, thumb brushing slow, absent circles into his skin. “Careful,” she murmured, tilting her head just enough to look at him through her lashes.
“You keep talking like that and people are going to start thinking you've turned into a sap.” She leaned in then, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth and when she pulled back, her nose brushed his.
“Guess I’ll have to just take it like a man”
He responded, teasing, as Y/N rolled her eyes at him and slid her hand back down his chest to rest over his heart. She eased back into the soft pillow under her head as she spoke,
“You know, since the weather’s so perfect, I was thinking we go to the beach today. Rafe made a low and dramatic sound immediately and buried his face deeper into the crook of her neck. “Why,” he murmured his voice muffled against her skin,
“Can’t we just stay right here all day?”
He dropped more of his weight onto her like a human blanket, his body slung heavy across hers, legs intertwined under the sheets. She laughed, breath hitching.
“Rafe, you’re so lazy.”
“I am not lazy,”
He argued, pressing a kiss just below her ear. “I’m efficient. This- ” another kiss was pressed right under the pulse point on her neck, “—is the best possible option.” She wriggled beneath him.
“I want to work on my tan.”
“You’re perfect already.”
He said without missing a beat and she scoffed, “That is not a valid argument.” He shifted, tightening his hold on her slightly. “C’mon. I know deep down you want to stay in bed with me.”
“No, I don’t— Rafe, get off me,” she laughed, squirming.
“You’re squashing me!”
He groaned an exaggerated, stubborn 'no' and stayed exactly where he was, his arms slipping under her back to pull her closer to him. She slapped his bare back lightly a couple of times in a pathetic attempt to have him release her.
“Please.”
“Nope.”
“Rafe.”
“No.”
Y/N let out a small defeated sigh resting back into the mattress with his warm weight grounding her, then, without another word her brows raised slightly as an idea came to mind, and she raised her hand, dragging her nails slowly down his back.
His immediate response did not go unnoticed.
His annoyed groans had melted into something else entirely, deeper and quieter and he loosened his strong hold on her, forehead dropping deep into the crook where her neck meets her shoulder.
“…That’s cheating.”
He muttered and she smiled to herself and leaned in just enough to brush her lips near his ear, her voice soft and teasing.
“If you let me get up… I could convince you why we should go to the beach.”
"And how do you plan on doing that..."
“Maybe starting with a shower...?”
He lifted his head slightly and for a split second and he just looked at her. His eyes flickered between hers before slipping down to her lips and back up to her irises again- then he rolled off her abruptly, shoving the sheets of his body and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, muscular arms pushing himself up off the mattress. She burst out laughing.
“What are you doing?”
Rafe was standing up now, tugging and adjusting his sleeping shorts which still sat incredibly low, the defined 'v' at his hips dipped beneath the waistband, drawing her gaze whether she wanted it to or not. He glanced back over his shoulder as he walked over towards the ensuite in the room,
“Going to shower”
Rafe slipped through the bathroom doorway, one hand pushing the door open as the other reached back to flick the light on. The door didn’t fully close behind him, left open just enough for the sound of running water to flow out into the bedroom. Y/N was still grinning when he disappeared, the kind of smile that felt too big and she pressed her face straight into the soft pillow, muffling a quiet, breathy groan as she squeezed her eyes shut to compose herself
“You coming Bunny?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The salty breeze rolled in gentle waves off the blue ocean. The warm sun shimmered across the surface of the water, the sky overhead a hue of pale blue with only a few wisps of white clouds drifting lazily across it. Two matching beach towels were stretched side by side on the sand, one half shaded by a tilted umbrella whilst the other fully in the sun. A small blue cooler sat at the foot of the towels, beads of condensation rolling down the plastic sides. Y/N had packed most of it, nothing fancy. She was lying on her stomach, chin resting on her folded arms as she soaked in the heat. Her back glowed under a thin sheen of tanning oil, her legs stretched out behind her, toes occasionally curling in the warm sand. Next to her Rafe was sprawled on his back, one arm folded beneath his head the other resting lazily across his stomach. He had his eyes closed, face tilted toward the sun but he wasn’t asleep, not really. His fingers twitched now and then like he was resisting the urge to reach out and touch her, and every once in a while he peeked at her from beneath his lashes. Rafe let out a dramatic groan, shifting on his towel like the sand had offended him and he pushed himself up onto his elbow whilst he pressed a hand into the small of his back wincing as if he were twice his age. “Why couldn’t we just go to that beach club I wanted to take us to?” he muttered, staring up at the umbrella with disdain.
“My back hurts and this sand is uneven there’s rocks.”
Y/N let out a laugh, her shoulders shaking a little as she turned to look at him. She pushed herself up on her elbows, sunglasses sliding down her nose before she shoved them up to rest on top of her head.
“Rafe,” she said with mock offence, “we’re slumming it like Pogues. Embrace the struggle.”
He rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful, “I’m not a Pogue Y/N.”
She narrowed her gaze at him playfully, “Well I am”
Rafe turned his head just enough to glance at her, raising a brow. “So?”
“So don’t insult my culture duh?”
That pulled a grin out of him as he brushed sand off his forearm. “I grew up in the trenches Rafe,” she teased her eyes glinting beneath the hot summer sun. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you seek refuge beside me, back in the day a guy like you in this area would’ve gotten his cooler stolen and his tires slashed.”
“Oh yeah?” he said, the smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth now, “and what would you have done?”
She tilted her head innocently, shrugging one shoulder. “Probably distracted you while someone siphoned your gas.”
“You can’t be serious”
“Dead serious”
She shot back, reaching into the cooler to grab a soda and pressing the cold can to her neck with a small satisfied hum. He shook his head, leaning over to kiss her shoulder, his mouth lingering just long enough to catch the faint hint of coconut on her skin, the leftover trace of tanning oil clinging to her. “I guess if I’m gonna slum it,” he murmured,
“I don’t mind doing it with you.”
She tried to play it cool and roll her eyes, tease him back maybe, but the way her smile twitched and softened gave her away. Y/N leaned over towards the cooler, and she properly flipped the lid open, squinting against the brightness as she dug around inside. She asked, already reaching in for another.
“Wanna drink?”
“Go on”
She fished out a bottle of something cold for him before glancing down into the ice. Her fingers paused mid-rummage.
“…Rafe?”
He hummed in response, eyes still closed behind his shades.
“What is this?”
He cracked one eye open just as she lifted a tiny, matte-black tin into the air between two fingers like it was radioactive. Water dripped from its sides, and she turned it toward him to read the label.
“That?” he said lazily, “That’s caviar.”
“Caviar?”
“…Yeah?”
He said again, this time a little unsure. She sat up fully now, turning the tin over in her hand. “Why the fuck,” she said slowly, staring at him like he’d grown a second head, “have you brought caviar… to the beach?” He blinked behind his sunglasses, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I don’t know. Felt like a beach snack.”
Y/N stared at him in complete disbelief, then burst out laughing.
“You are so far gone”
She tossed the tin gently onto his chest. It bounced off his sternum and rolled beside him on the towel. His hand reached out to pick the tin which landed face down, “It’s good” he argued, sitting up fully now, brushing sand off his abs.
“What would you rather have, a sandwich?”
“Yes!”
She fired back immediately, eyes wide, “a sandwich! Or like, fruit?! Normal people snacks- God.”
Rafe shifted beside her, sliding over the towel to sit flush against her side as he grabbed the metal of the tin lid and twisted it, breaking the seal. Y/N watched him with suspicion and she asked slowly, eyes flicking down to the delicate tin in his hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Educating your palette”
He said as his lips tugged in that cocky little half-smirk and he peeled the lid back with a faint pop. She leaned in slightly, peering at the black, glistening pearls nestled inside.
“…You’re serious?”
“Give me your hand.”
He picked up the small white plastic spoon that came wedged in the top of the lid and she hesitated.
“For what?”
“Just- shut up and give me your hand.”
Still side-eyeing him, she extended her palm toward him. He carefully scooped a small mound of caviar onto the back of her hand over the smooth skin by her thumb.
“There.”
He said then did the same for himself. Y/N looked down at it skeptically like it might start moving.
“What does it taste like?”
He shrugged, “Salty and a little buttery.”
"You're making it sound good.”
“It is good, trust me.”
He admitted with a grin and she looked at him as he spoke, drawing her eyes away from the delicacy on her hand. The sun had caused a touch of pink at his nose and collarbone as she couldn't help but smile a little knowing that he’d be complaining about it later this evening. “Okay well… bottoms up-” she said softly, leaning in slightly, lips brushing the back of her own hand as she tasted it.
Her face twisted immediately.
“Oh my God. It’s like- super fishy.”
Rafe let out a small laugh, “You didn’t even give it a chance”
“I did! I gave it like, half a second of a chance!”
He wiped his own hand clean with a practiced lick, “You’re a coward.”
“And you,” she said her finger coming out to jab at his chest, “are out of touch with the common man.”
“I am a common man…?”
“Yeah right… maybe in your dreams Mr Cameron”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun cast a golden haze over the sand, Y/N had settled back again beside Rafe, her skin warm beneath the sun’s kiss, his fingers lightly brushing her arm every now and then drawing small circles across her skin. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the breeze skim over her, it was all good. Until the familiar rumble of an engine reached her ears.
She lifted her sunglasses, squinting toward the dunes just in time to see the beat-up Twinkie rolling into view, causing rifts in the sand. Her heart stuttered in her chest, a tiny flicker of unease blooming as the doors swung open and the Pogues began to spill out their familiar chaos invading the beach.
John B jumped out first, shirt already half-off. Pope and Cleo followed, lugging a cooler between them. Sarah and Kiara trailed after them, beach bags on their shoulders. Then came JJ, dragging two folded beach chairs in one hand and a six-pack in the other. Y/N stayed still, eyes tracking the group as they made their way down toward a spot a little further down the shore, her eyes lingering on one of them longer than the others. Sarah caught her eye and she offered a tentative, almost shy wave. Y/N hesitated before she lifted her hand to return a soft wave and Rafe stirred beside her.
Her gaze shifted again, this time landing on JJ for longer.
He didn’t wave at her, just stood still, eyes already on her like he’d spotted her the moment they pulled up. They held each other’s stare for the briefest beat, a second too long to be casual and then his face hardened slightly, gaze sliding off her. He turned away and Y/N’s chest pinched. She blinked, quickly slipping her sunglasses back down over her eyes. Rafe was looking at her now, head turned in her direction. She cleared her throat, lying back against the towel again but her fingers were fidgeting slightly at her side. Rafe noticed immediately.
He’d been watching, not the Pogues, nor the van but her.
The subtle change in her posture, the way her mouth pressed into a faint line. He shifted onto his side, propping his head up on his hand.
“You okay?”
Her eyes stayed on the sky. “Yeah.”
It was barely more than a whisper, the single syllable carrying none of the conviction it should. Rafe’s brow furrowed. She finally glanced at him, then away just as quick back to the stretch of sand where the Twinkie sat parked. Sarah was already settling down with the others and now JJ had his back turned. “I guess I’m just… I don’t know.” She plucked at a loose thread on her towel, her voice quieter now.
“I thought maybe he’d… I don’t know. Just look at me? But he can’t even do-”
She stopped, her throat tightening as the words stuck and a small shake of her head cut the thought short. Admitting the rest out loud, hurt more than she wanted it to, felt like handing someone an axe and asking them to swing. The waves crashed somewhere behind them, slow and steady, filling the silence she left behind. Rafe’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he suddenly pushed himself up, brushing the sand off his chest. Then he extended a hand toward her.
“Come on.”
She frowned, “What?”
“Get in the water, you’ll feel better.”
“I don’t wanna.”
She flopped back against the towel like a stubborn cat refusing to move, throwing her arms over her face. He huffed out at her response.
“Come on, you’ve been baking out here for hours.”
“I’m not even hot.”
“Oh, you’re hot alright.”
A slow, grin spread across his face and she reached her hand out to his calf, shoving him back.
“Shut up.”
Before she could retreat, he placed one foot on either side of her legs and reached down, letting his hand slide deliberately to the very top of her thigh, fingers brushing dangerously close to her bikini bottoms. He feigned a wince.
“Almost burnt my hand, you need to cool off.”
That pulled a laugh out of her small but genuine.
“That’s ’cause this ass is fire.”
Rafe rolled his eyes like he was suffering but the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a twitch. In one smooth motion, he gripped her wrists and hauled her upright, ignoring her protests as his arms looped around her waist. She barely had time to register the fact she was on her feet before he was steering her across the sand toward the shoreline. “Rafe!” she yelped, heels digging into the wet sand. “Stop! Stop!”
“Okay if you say so”
He said easily and then without hesitation he dropped her, her feet wobbling in the water which licked around her calves and she fell, straight into the cool sea below her.
“You dick! I’m gonna get you for that!”
Her squeal rang out over the sound of the waves and Rafe raised his hands mock-surrender. “Oh really? And how exactly are you going to do that?” But before he could react, she scooped up a handful of water and flung it at him, he yelped as the cool splash hit his chest, then lunged toward her, arms outstretched.
“Hey- no fair!”
She shrieked, laughing, dodging to the side and he grinned back and grabbed another handful, sending it through the air. She squealed, spinning away the water dripping down her back. Then she bolted deeper into the water, tiny waves lapping around her knees now.
“Catch me if you can!”
“Get your ass back here!”
He called out to her and she turned her head looking over her shoulder and sticking her tongue out taunting him.
“Y/N I’m not playing with you!”
Rafe shouted back, but he couldn’t suppress the amused smile tugging at his lips as he followed after her into the water, his feet kicked up sprays of water as he closed the distance. She laughed harder, running, splashing, weaving in and out of the small waves, her heart racing as the thrill of him following her overtook her.
Nearby, Kiara, Cleo and Sarah were settled on the warm sand; Kiara’s fingers plaiting Sarah’s hair, tucking blonde strands behind her ear, while Cleo munched on the homemade veggie crisps Kie had made before they left. Their eyes kept drifting toward the water where John B, Pope, and JJ were prepping their surfboards, the glint of the sun on the waves making the scene almost look like a postcard. Then Kiara’s head tilted slightly, gaze narrowing.
“Is that… Rafe and Y/N?”
She asked, a note of surprise in her voice. Sarah followed her line of sight, and for the first time since she’d arrived, she really looked at the two of them. Rafe’s arms were around Y/N’s waist, and with a playful tug he pulled her into the water with him. Her squeals of laughter cut through the soft crash of the waves on the shore. Y/N didn’t stop there- she threw herself over his back, arms slinging over his shoulders as he held her close, rubbing his hands up and down her arms and Cleo tilted her head,
“I’ve never seen your brother smile ya’know?”
Sarah’s gaze lingered on them and in her mind she had to agree. She’d never seen him look so… genuinely happy.
Sarah couldn’t help but flick her eyes toward JJ, who was standing up ahead knee-deep in the waves now, surfboard at his side. For a moment, she noticed where his gaze landed, or at least where she thought it did, and she caught something unexpected in his expression. His jaw wasn’t tight or tense like she’d expected; instead there was a softness there, almost like regret… or maybe longing? She couldn’t quite place it. But then as quickly as it came he turned his head away, pretending to adjust his board or scan the horizon. Her chest tightened slightly because despite the abrupt movement there was one thing she could be sure of:
He wanted to talk to her.
He just didn’t know how.
For a long moment, she stayed watching him, heart tugged between the warmth of seeing Y/N so happy and the complicated feeling that came with JJ’s presence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two float in the water aimlessly now letting the waves rock them gently, Rafe’s arms are snug around Y/N from behind, keeping her anchored. Her eyes drifted toward the surfboards bobbing in the distance where the Pogues were showing off and she caught sight of JJ trying a tricky maneuver before wiping out in the water now foaming white below him. Rafe’s voice broke the comfortable quiet.
“Can you surf?”
“Can I surf? I taught him how to surf, you know.”
Y/N smiled softly, turning her head slightly to look at him. Rafe followed her gaze to JJ, and his eyebrows rose,
“… you did?”
~~~
JJ stomped his way out of the water, throwing the board down angrily and shoving himself down onto the stand with an audible ‘umphf’ sending a small cloud of sand into the air. He huffed again, shoulders tight as he sat there glaring at the water like it had personally wronged him, the waves rolled in lazily completely indifferent to his frustration.
Y/N crouched down beside him unbothered by the sand clinging to her knees, and she brushed a stray line of sand from his shorts, pushing his matted hair from his face, his blue eyes peering up at her grumpily . She fought back a smile at the exaggerated tantrum he was throwing. “Hey, c’mon” she said softly, placing her hand gently on his shoulder to calm him.
“You’re allowed to be bad at something the first few times.”
He shot her a look, unconvinced. “But you make it look easy.”
“That’s cause I’m older”
She teased lightly, earning the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “And because I fell about a hundred times before it stopped feeling wobbly.” He glanced back toward the water, then down at his board lying beside them.
“It just… doesn’t listen to me.”
She laughed under her breath at that, rising to her feet and planting herself in front of him and holding her hands out to him, JJ huffed out causing some of his hair to fly out of his face, then he shoved his hands into hers, pulling himself up. She placed her hands on his shoulders,
“You’ve got to bend your knees a little more okay? And keep your eyes forward- don’t look down at the board, that's what's making you fall, JJ.”
“I’m trying! It’s stupid!”
He snapped out in a whiny voice, as he glared at the ocean like it had personally betrayed him. “Okay, try this with me, yeah?” She bent her knees, rocking slightly side to side. “Loose. Not stiff. If you start fighting the board it's obviously gonna fight back.” JJ mirrored her movement awkwardly, wobbling a bit even on the sand.
“I look stupid.”
“You look like someone who's learning,” she corrected, “Big difference.”
He looked over to her skeptically and her hand came out once more, softly squeezing his shoulder, “It’s called practice Jay. D’you really think I got it the first time?”
“...no.”
“I promise, you’ll get it.”
Y/N couldn’t help the small, proud smile that tugged at her lips as she watched him hoist the board under his arm and trudge toward the shoreline, muttering, “If I die, I’m haunting you.” She followed, nudging his back playfully with her hand. The water lapped at their ankles, cool and foamy and she stepped beside him, guiding him forwards steadily. JJ hesitated just for a second before wading in deeper, jaw set in determination. Y/N watched him,
“One wave at a time Jay- I’ve got you.”
~~~
The memory faded as gently as the water rocking them both, slow and rhythmic. Rafe’s arms were still snug around her, his body a solid warmth at her back and she let out a soft breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
“I haven’t surfed in a while”
She admitted quietly and Rafe hummed in response, a thoughtful pause rising between them before he spoke up,
“You could again.”
She tilted her head slightly, glancing back at him, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said simply. “We can get you a board, a good one, not one of those half-assed rentals.” She smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her gaze drifted back to the horizon, to where JJ was paddling back out now, stubborn as ever and the sight tugged at something in her chest.
She could remember saving up for weeks, months really, counting crumpled bills at the end of every shift. The gas station sat just before the bridge that led into Figure Eight, it was her first real job. It was the kind of place people only stopped at because they had to. The place always had her fingers smelling faintly of gasoline no matter how many times she washed them, and it stank of burnt coffee and motor oil, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead irritably.
She would work the late shifts alone behind the counter, pretending not to notice the way men lingered too long and called her sweetheart like it would mean something to her. But she'd put up with it because after each shift, every pay out went into a shoebox under her bed, every spare dollar folded carefully.
She remembered the weight of the board when she finally bought it, the way it nearly knocked JJ off his feet when she handed it over. He was much smaller then, sun-bleached hair bouncing in excitement and eyes lighting up like she’d just handed him the world. She can still recall how he'd slept with it in his room for a week after that, propped against the wall at first and then dragged closer to his bed like it might disappear if he didn’t keep it within arm’s reach.
The memory seemed distant now, tainted with something aching and old. Regret? No- not regret. Never regret. Just her own understanding of how much of herself she’d given without ever thinking twice, without ever wanting anything in return, because that was what you did when you love someone. Rafe’s arms tightened just a fraction, and after a moment of her silence, he spoke softly. “You okay?” She nodded automatically,
“Mhmm.”
But he shifted slightly, just enough that she felt him look down at her. “That wasn’t very convincing.” She sighed, leaning back into his chest. “What if he doesn’t want to talk to me? What if he—” Her voice caught, the thought unfinished. Rafe’s hand came up, thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles along her arm. “Baby,” he said gently,
“That’s your brother.”
She swallowed.
“Doesn’t matter what’s happened,” he continued. “Doesn’t matter how angry he is at you or how much time it takes. You're still family.” He nodded toward the shoreline, where JJ was now sitting on his board atop the water, waiting for the next set of waves to roll closer.
“You taught him almost everything he knows- you think he'd forget that?”
She watched JJ for a long moment, “You should go talk to him,” Rafe said, not pushing, “You don't deserve to live like this constantly carrying all this guilt around.” She turned slightly in his arms then, looking up at him. She whispered and Rafe leant down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
“What if I mess it up?”
“Then I'll be right here- I've got you.”
It was almost ironic- the same words she’d once given her brother now being said to her. She swallowed nodding faintly and her forehead tipped forward until it rested briefly against his collarbone. The water rocked them gently, the ocean indifferent to the quiet shift happening inside her. Rafe squeezed her hand then he huffed a quiet breath, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. “C’mon,” he murmured, already starting to guide her toward shore.
"You’re pruning up. Let’s get you dry.”
She let him lead her, fingers still laced with his as they waded back, the sand cool and soft beneath her feet. Just before they reached the beach, she glanced back over her shoulder one last time. JJ was up on his board this time, balanced, cutting clean across a wave, golden light catching in his hair as the water curled around him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun had dipped just enough to soften the harshness of the late afternoon light, and Y/N sat cross-legged on the sand. Her shorts were damp from her still wet bikini bottoms underneath and the t-shirt Rafe had worn was now draping comfortably over her frame, leaving his tanned chest bare. The umbrella was closed and tucked beside their two towels folded neatly which lay on top of the cooler, which was now empty. Rafe dropped down onto the sand beside Y/N, the grains sticking faintly to his skin. “Okay,” he said, brushing sand from his hands on his dried board shorts,
“we’re all ready.”
Y/N turned slightly, reaching over and taking his hand in hers. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her cheek. He glanced down at their intertwined fingers, thumb brushing over the back of her hand and then without thinking, his finger traced delicately over her ring finger. She followed his movements before meeting his eyes instinctively and for a heartbeat they just looked at each other. Then his eyes flickered down to her lips, soft and slightly dry from a whole day out in the sun and water, she could help the way her lips curved into a small, almost shy smile.
She leaned in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss against him, tasting the faint salt of the sea, it was sweet and unhurried. It was in that moment she realised that the peace she had been chasing her entire life, the quiet she had longed for on restless nights, was sitting right here beside her. She pulled back just enough to rest her forehead lightly against his and she whispered,
“I love you.”
“Love you more”
He replied immediately, his voice was nothing but honest and she giggled softly, brushing her nose against his.
“No- I love you more.”
“Hmmm, that’s not possible Maybank, because I love you most.”
Her smile wavered for just a moment as the memory of JJ’s words from months ago flickered in her mind
“You’re not a Maybank, you know that?”
“A Maybank would never betray their own blood.”
Her voice felt quiet as she began to speak, so quiet that she had to clear her throat and start again, “Not a Maybank anymore remember?” Rafe’s eyes softened as they scanned her face, and before he could stop himself, he spoke, the words falling past his lips with no going back,
“Well… maybe you could be a Cameron instead?”
Her breath caught at his question. “What?” she asked, blinking up at him, surprise clawing up her throat. His gaze lowered to her ring finger again and he added steadily,
“Would you… in the future… ever consider it?”
Rafe's mouth felt dry as he asked the question, the sand warming them as they sat in a silence, and although Y/N was sitting down she could swear her legs felt weak. Finally, she let out a small breath and met his eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes I would.”
A small, satisfied smile broke across his face and he reached forward pulling her closer. Their lips met again soft and intimate, marking a new chapter between them. As Rafe pulled back from the kiss, a teasing glint danced in his eyes. “You know,” he murmured his voice low,
“I like the sound of… Mrs. Cameron.”
Y/N’s hand shot up between them, playfully pushing him back just enough to make him grin wider. “Rafe” she protested, though her lips quirked in a smile at the thought of that.
Huh- Mrs Cameron.
Who would've thought...
For a moment his gaze flickered past her, scanning the beach behind her and landing on something before snapping back to her face. “What?” she asked tilting her head her curiosity now piqued.
“I think someone wants to talk to you.”
Rafe replied nodding subtly. Her head turned and there walking slowly with Sarah at his side, was JJ. His eyes found hers immediately and for the first time in months, he didn’t look away. The weight of his gaze made her chest flutter, a mixture of nerves and unspoken conversations settling deep inside her. She looked back at Rafe, biting her lower lip instinctively but his thumb appeared instantly brushing gently across her lip to free it from between her teeth. “Hey… stop that,” he murmured softly. “What if-” she began, uncertainty creeping into her voice.
“Baby,” Rafe cut in his voice firm but gentle, “remember what I said. Whatever happens…” He leaned closer and added quietly, “...I’ve got you.”
A small, resolute smile spread across her face as she slowly got to her feet, her arms crossed over her chest, gathering courage whilst the sand shifted beneath her feet as she started walking toward the Pogues. Sarah nudged JJ in encouragement and he immediately began to walk toward Y/N and both parties on each sides of the beach watched in anticipation. The silence stretches between them as they get closer, heavy and fragile. JJ stands a few feet away from her, hands flexing at his sides, shoulders tight in a way she’s seen a hundred times before- when he didn’t know what to do with what he was feeling. The blonde Pogue finally speaks, his voice quieter than she’s ever heard it, stripped of its usual cocky confidence,
“Hey.”
Y/N looks at him for a long moment. Really looks at him. At the familiar lines of his face, the his sun-bleached hair, the little boy she helped raise, now a man standing in front of her. Her heart starts to pound loud in her ears but she forces herself to breathe.
“Hi Jay.”
She replies softly, only to be met by another pause. The beach seems to hush around them, the loud crash of the waves rolling in and out quiet now. If Y/N closed her eyes she could match up the rise and fall of the water to the pace of her heartbeat. Somewhere behind them, Sarah and Rafe watch silently giving them space, but eager to hear what's being said. JJ shifts his weight, eyes dropping to the sand before his hand comes up to his hair, pushing it out of his face and lifting his gaze back to her. His jaw tightens, like he’s bracing himself. “I… I didn’t know,” he says, the words careful, deliberate.
“About everything. I didn’t know it was that bad for you.”
Something in her chest aches at his words and her expression softens. She nods slowly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “Yeah,” she murmured,
“I didn’t want you to know...I didn’t want you to look at me like that.”
His eyes flicker over her face, guilt flashing across his own. He opens his mouth like he’s about to defend himself but the fight drains out of him before it can even get a syllable past his lips. He clears his throat, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just-” His voice wobbles, his breath hitching unexpectedly. She sees the glassiness in his eyes, the way he’s blinking too fast, trying to hold it together.
“I’m so sorry, I-”
The words collapse into a broken breath and then he’s crying. Not loud and performative, but ugly uncontrollable sobs he clearly doesn’t know how to stop. He ducks his head, hands angrily wiping at his cheeks as his shoulders shake.
Her own eyes burn instantly at the sight.
“Hey,” she says, stepping forward without thinking.
“Hey, it’s okay- It’s okay.”
She pulls the boy into her, arms wrapping around him as naturally as breathing and JJ folds into her like he’s been waiting for permission, bending down and tucking his face into the crook of her neck. His arms clamp around her tightly, as though afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go. She runs her hand through his hair, strands crusted by the salt water he'd spent all day in. Her fingers smooth it back the way she used to when he was smaller, when his scraped knees and bad dreams were the worst of his problems and she as always was there to help him. Her other hand rubs slow circles into his back, “It’s okay, baby,” she whispers,
“I know, I know you’re sorry-”
“-I love you so much”
He chokes out and his sobs shake against her shoulder, her skin there now damp from his tears, “You’re my sister… and I treated you like shit and I—” His voice breaks again, the words dissolving into another breathless cry.
“I should’ve protected you. I should’ve been there.”
She shushes him gently, pressing her cheek to his hair. “I know,” she murmurs, over and over. “I don't blame you, it’s okay.”
A tear slips free then, tracing a path shakily down her cheek. She doesn’t bother wiping it away. She’s missed him so much it hurts- missed the weight of him leaning into her, missed being his safe place. This is her baby brother. The boy she fed, fought for, worried about over and over again. The thought that she might’ve lost him forever had terrified her more than anything. “I’ve missed you so much, Jayj,” she whispers, her voice barely there.
“So much.”
JJ clings to her, holding on like she’s an anchor and after a long moment, he pulls back just enough to look at her, his face blotchy and wet, eyes red and irritated. “I’m not letting you go again,” he says hoarsely,
“Ever.”
She smiles through her tears and pulls him back into her, holding him just as tight. JJ stays tucked into her for a second longer, then exhales against her shoulder, voice muffled but calmer now.
“…You still smell like sunscreen.”
She lets out a quiet laugh, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Yeah? Well, I’d rather smell like sunscreen than burn.” He squints at her, a fake offended look flashing across his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She doesn’t even hesitate as she sends him a side eye, only for JJ to scoff, giving her shoulder a light shove.
“I don’t burn.”
“Yeah, right. Your back says something else.”
She laughs, nudging him right back. “Hey!” he protests, immediately grinning despite himself. “That only happened one time.”
“It peeled,” she reminds him sweetly, “For weeks.”
He groans at her and she’s still laughing, the sound warm and cutting clean through the heaviness from moments ago. JJ shakes his head, but he’s smiling too. “I missed you,” he mutters, quieter, softer. She bumps her shoulder against his. “Yeah,” she says gently.
“Me too.”
“I love you, Y/N,” he says his voice holding steady despite the rasp still clinging to it. “No matter what happens… I’ll always love you. You’re my sister... You’re my family.”
Her throat tightens instantly. She nods, lips pressed together as her eyes sting, fighting to hold it together. One hand comes up automatically, fingers smoothing through the messed-up hair near his face, fixing it the way she’s done a thousand times before.
“I love you too, J,”
“We’re the Maybanks, right?”
She nods, her lips pressing into each other, emotion flickering across her face as she breathes in his words like a lifeline.
They both don’t notice Rafe at first.
He’d started getting uneasy when he realised how long they’d been talking, a hand reaching up to run over his buzzcut. He's not dumb- he can tell that JJ had been apologising- but their interaction put him on edge either way. He slowed as he reached them, stopping not far behind Y/N. JJ’s eyes flickered over her shoulder catching sight of him and Y/N turned slightly as Rafe’s hand settles at her waist, protective.
“Hey”
JJ says, casual but not unkind. He could sense Rafe's resentment, he's not surprise, especially after what he'd heard him say to his sister. Rafe gives him a thin-lipped smile, not hostile but then again, not friendly. Y/N looks between them, heart thudding, aware that this- 'this'- is going to take time.
JJ glances between them, “So,” he says, nodding toward Rafe, “uh…” he starts but then stops, letting out a huff he tries again,
“Rafe-”
“JJ, if you’re gonna-” Y/N cuts in her nerves flaring, “No, no,” he cuts her off quickly.
“Not like that. I just- Sarah told me about everything. What you did for her.”
There’s a beat of silence. The ocean hums behind them, waves rolling in and out like they’re giving them space. “I, uh…” JJ swallows. “Yeah.” Rafe doesn’t say anything at first, his hand tightens just slightly at Y/N’s waist but he doesn’t look away from JJ, instead he sends him a small nod.
“My sister, huh?”
“JJ-”
Y/N starts, already bracing but he lifts his hands quickly.
“I’m joking- I’m joking.”
She lets out a small breath, a smile breaking through. Rafe clears his throat. “So… you’ve, uh—” He gestures vaguely between her and JJ.
“Sorted things out?”
“Yeah.” she says quietly punctured with a soft smile. Rafe gives a short nod, jaw still a little tight, but he accepts it. JJ shifts his weight, suddenly a bit awkward. “Look man,” He rubs the back of his neck.
“I just wanted to say thanks. For… you know.”
“Don’t thank me”
Rafe started to shake his head immediately, “You don’t need to.” JJ nods once, a sense of mutual understanding passing between them without another word. They hold each other’s gaze for a beat, two stubborn and complicated guys standing on opposite sides of the same subject, however something unspoken settles between them.
A truce, probably not yet.
But an agreement?
Maybe....
Because at the end of the day they both love her.
Y/N watched them standing there, awkward and tense but trying. She knows it won’t be easy, she's not as foolish as she used to be, but standing here between the two people who love her most in the world, she realises something else too.
Good things take time and she’s willing to give it.
summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: I actually said I'd never do another series again but here we are 😼. Looollll anywho, Y/N literally is literally a walking definition of older child syndrome and her and Rafe hate eachother so much stop. This is gonna be such a good enemies to lovers get me outta here
warnings: mentions of drugs, smoking, drinking, a strip club (duh), naked women, drug dealing, aggressive behaviour.
The faucet dripped steadily, each drop hitting the rust-stained sink with an echo that filled the quiet of the house. Y/N stood in the cramped bathroom, arms crossed, lips pressed together in frustration as she watched the slow but relentless leak.
Another thing broken.
Another thing they couldn’t afford to fix.
She let out a slow breath, running a hand down her face before turning sharply at the sound of footsteps thudding through the hallway. She knew them well—JJ, heading for the door, heading out. Again.
“JJ.”
Her voice was firm, but it barely slowed him down as he moved through the house, searching for his keys. He muttered, pushing past the worn couch and shoving a hand into the pocket of his frayed shorts.
“Not now, Y/N, alright?”
“JJ, seriously.”
She stepped into his path, arms out now, forcing him to stop.
“Can you just- can you talk to me for five seconds?”
“What?”
His blue eyes flicked up to hers, but there was impatience in them, already halfway gone even as he stood in front of her. Y/N clenched her jaw, gesturing back toward the bathroom.
“Shit’s breaking faster than I can fix it. We need money and I can’t do this alone.”
“I’ll figure something out, okay?”
JJ sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he stepped around her, heading toward the door again. She let out a humorless scoff watching her brother avoid the conversation- once again.
“What about that job interview at the gas station I told you about last week?”
She’d told him about it last monday, she could still remember begging the manager to give him a chance, given his reputation- well it wasn't the best. JJ’s shoulders tensed slightly, and for the first time, he hesitated.
“Uh… yeah, about that…”
Y/N’s stomach dropped. She already knew the answer before he finished his sentence. She spoke slowly, warning in her tone.
“JJ”
“Look, me and the Pogues were fishing, and we kinda… lost track of time.”
He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. Y/N shut her eyes, exhaling sharply as she lifted her hands to cover her face.
“Are you serious?”
“I mean, technically, I did show up. Just… a little late.”
JJ let out a half-hearted chuckle, like maybe that’d soften the blow. She dropped her hands, shaking her head as exhaustion settled deep in her bones.
“Jesus, Jay. Do you even care?”
JJ frowned but didn’t answer right away. He knew he was being a little unreasonable- but in his defense he was just a teen. His silence however told her everything. She looked at him and momentarily took in his appearance, his messy blond hair, his summer kissed skin; she envied him a little, the way he was always out and about, not worried, never stressed. She muttered, turning on her heel.
“Forget it”
“Y/N—”
But she was already walking away, back toward the bathroom, back toward the leaking faucet, back toward everything she had to deal with alone. JJ hesitated for a second, watching her go, then sighed and yanked open the door. And then it shut behind him, leaving Y/N standing there in the silence. She swallowed hard, blinking back the stinging frustration behind her eyes.
"Yeah," she muttered to herself, voice barely above a whisper.
"Guess I'll figure it out myself."
After a while she had given up on the leaky faucet, cleaning up the house- to the best of her ability- before settling down in the kitchen.The stack of bills sat on the dining table, a messy pile of final notices and overdue warnings. Y/N stared at them, her fingers running over the edges of the envelopes, as if touching them could somehow make the numbers smaller, make the debt disappear. The utilities, the rent- hell, even the grocery bill? It was all piling up faster than she could keep up with. Sometimes she wished she could turn back time, move back to when she didn't even know about all of this, before she showed her dad she could look after herself - and JJ… maybe then she wouldn't have this constant weight on her shoulders.
With a sigh, she dropped her head down onto the table, resting her forehead against the cool surface. Think, think, think. There had to be a way to come up with money, something quick, something that didn’t involve relying on JJ, because clearly that wasn’t an option either now. Her mind raced through possibilities, but every idea led to a dead end. The front door swung open and then slammed shut. Y/N didn’t even lift her head as heavy, stumbling footsteps made their way inside.
She knew that gait all too well.
Her jaw clenched as her father mumbled something incoherent under his breath, his words slurred, laced with whatever shit he had put in his system tonight. She stayed still, hoping, praying, that he’d just pass out somewhere and leave her be. Without a word to her, he shuffled through the house, disappearing into her bedroom. Y/N pursed her lips, lifting her head slightly as she listened to him rustling around in there. She knew better than to go after him. Whatever he was looking for- money, booze, something to pawn- she wasn’t about to get in his way.
Instead, she pushed back from the table, standing up slowly, her hands pressing against the wood as she steadied herself. The house was too quiet now, except for the occasional sound of drawers opening and closing in her room. Her stomach twisted. She needed to get out of here, needed to fix this mess before it swallowed her whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She’d been driving with no real destination, letting the silence of the night and the hum of the engine settle her thoughts. She’s gripping the wheel tightly, her thoughts tangled in the mess of overdue payments, an empty fridge, and a father and brother who barely acknowledge her existence unless they want something.Then, as she’s driving through the dimly lit streets, she passes by it. The neon sign flickers, casting a dull pink glow onto the pavement, and without even thinking, she slams the brakes. Her car comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the empty street and can feel her seat belt digging into her chest momentarily, her heart pounding as she stares at the building.
It’s not like she’s never thought about it before.
She’s heard things, seen the type of girls who walk in and out of there, all done up with money to spend. And right now, she has nothing- nothing but overdue bills and a house falling apart. Her hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. A part of her wants to just drive away, pretend she never even considered it. But another part of her- the part that’s desperate, the part that’s sick of drowning- knows this might be her only shot. She swallows hard, taking a deep breath before finally pulling her car to the curb. She sits there for a second, hands still on the wheel, staring at the entrance, she brings her hand up to rub it down her face, hand resting over her mouth as she thinks.
Really thinks.
Then, before she can change her mind, she kills the engine and steps out.
The night air is cool against her skin, but it does nothing to settle the heat rising in her chest. Her heart is hammering, her stomach twisting as she closes the car door behind her. The pavement feels unsteady beneath her feet as she walks toward the entrance. The music from inside is faint but pulsing, the bass reverberating through the ground. She hesitates, staring at the worn-down exterior and the neon sign buzzing overhead. As she approached the door, something caught her eye- a flyer taped to the window, the bold letters glaring at her in the dimming light.
NOW HIRING
This is insane.
She shouldn’t be here.
And yet, she doesn’t turn around, instead her fingers flex at her sides before she pushes the door open, stepping inside. The shift in atmosphere is immediate. The air is thick with perfume and alcohol, the dim lighting casting deep shadows across the room. The club isn’t packed- it’s late on a weekday- but there are still men scattered around, cash in hand, eyes glued to the stage. A girl moves fluidly under the colored lights, her body illuminated by pinks and blues as she wraps herself around the pole. Y/N swallows, forcing herself to keep walking, past the wandering eyes of men who glance at her but don’t linger. She doesn’t know exactly where she’s going, only that if she stops now, she’ll most likely lose her nerve.
She spots a bar toward the back and makes a beeline for it, hands slightly clammy. A woman stands behind the counter, pouring a drink for some guy in a suit. Y/N waits until she’s done before leaning in slightly.
“Hey, um- do you know who I talk to if I’m looking for a job?”
The woman lifts a brow, gaze flicking over Y/N, taking her in. Then, without a word, she jerks her chin toward a door near the back as she picks up a glass on the counter and starts drying it.
“Through there. Ask for Tommy.”
Y/N nods, her pulse jumping as she turns toward the door. This is it. She can still leave, still pretend she never came here. But instead, she takes a breath and pushes the door open. The door swings shut behind her with a dull thud, muffling the thumping bass from the main room. The air back here feels different- less suffocating, it’s dimly lit, the walls lined with old vintage posters of strippers and liquor crates, the faint scent of cigarettes lingers in the air.
Y/N’s eyes adjust quickly, landing on a man seated behind a cluttered desk, lazily counting a stack of cash. He looks to be in his late forties, broad-shouldered with thinning hair and a face that’s seen its fair share of rough nights. A half-smoked cigarette dangles between his fingers. He doesn’t look up immediately, just exhales a cloud of smoke before finally lifting his gaze to hers. His eyes sweep over her, slow and calculating.
“You lost, sweetheart?”
“I saw you were hiring.”
Y/N shakes her head, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket.That piques his interest. He leans back in his chair, eyeing her with something between amusement and scrutiny.
“That so?”
“Yeah. I—I need a job.”
She nods, trying to keep her voice steady. Tommy taps his fingers against the desk, sizing her up.
“You ever danced before?”
Y/N hesitates for half a second, “No.”
He smirks like he expected that answer, responding with a slow nod as he places the money he was counting into an envelope labeled ‘Bambi’.
“You got any experience bartending? Serving?”
“...I'm a waitress at the country club.”
His brow lifts, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to laugh in her face. Instead, he sighs, rubbing a hand down his jaw, momentarily pausing as he closes up the envelope, puts it onto a pile and looks up to her.
“So, what? You just walked in here hoping I’d throw you on stage?”
“I’m a fast learner.”
Y/N presses her lips together, shifting on her feet. Tommy watches her for a beat, then gestures toward the empty chair across from him.
“Sit.”
She does, moving forward and lowering herself onto the chair in front of him, the leather squeaking a little as it makes contact with her bare thighs. He studies her in the dim light, tapping his cigarette against the ashtray.
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N.”
“Well, Y/N,” he says, dragging the word out like he’s tasting it. “You don’t look like a girl who just woke up one day and decided this is what she wanted to do. So tell me- what are you really doing here?”
“I need the money.”
Y/N clenches her jaw. Tommy hums, nodding like that doesn’t surprise him as he taps the ash of his cigarette on the edge of an empty whiskey glass.
“That part’s obvious.”
He leans forward slightly as he continues, resting his elbows on the table.
“But I need to know what I’m dealing with. You got people who’ll come looking for you? A jealous boyfriend? Strict parents? Any reason this might come back to bite me in the ass?”
Y/N hesitates, because the truth is- complicated. JJ wouldn’t approve, not in a million years, his sister working in a strip club? There was no way he would be happy about it, but the more she thought about it, he’s barely around- and besides she is the older sibling. And Luke? She doubts he’d even notice with the way he’s always high out of his mind. Yet deep down she knew, if he did find out it certainly wouldn’t end well.
“No,” she says finally.
“No one’s coming after me.”
Tommy watches her carefully, like he’s weighing her answer. Then, with a slow nod, he exhales another stream of smoke and flicks his butt of his cigarette into the glass.
“Alright, Y/N… I’ll give you a shot.”
Relief floods her chest, but it’s short-lived as he continues.
“First things first- you start off small. No stage, not yet. You’ll work the floor. Waitress, maybe some private rooms if you’re up for it. Tips are yours, but the house gets a cut. If you prove you can handle yourself, we’ll talk about dancing.”
Y/N nods, ignoring the way her stomach tightens at the mention of private rooms. She can handle this. She has to. Tommy gestures toward the door.
“Come in tomorrow night. Nine o’clock. One of the girls will show you the ropes.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He hums out as Y/N stands up, gripping the back of the chair briefly before letting go. As she turns to leave her hand reaching out for the door handle, Tommy’s voice stops her.
“One last thing, sweetheart.”
She glances back.
“I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
His gaze is sharp, knowing. Y/N doesn’t reply. What could she possibly say to him? She just nods once and steps back through the door, back into the neon-lit haze of the club.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dressing room hummed with chatter, the air thick with the scent of perfume, body shimmer, and a mix of fruity smoke drifting around. Mirrors lined the walls, reflecting girls in various states of getting ready- adjusting lingerie straps, applying a final coat of lip gloss, securing thigh-high stockings into garter belts. Y/N sat at one of the vanities, leaning in close as she fixed the last flick of her eyeliner. Her figure was wrapped in black lace, tiny straps and sheer panels leaving just enough to the imagination- but she still had a few finishing touches to go. Naomi- better known as Bambi- was beside her, placing her straightener down and popping her gum loudly as she smirked at Y/N through the mirror.
“You’re getting faster at this,” She mused, eyes flicking down to Y/N’s hands as she fastened a delicate silver choker with a small heart pendant around her neck.
“First week, you were takin’ forever in here. Now look at you. A real pro, Bunny.”
Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, smoothing out a stray strand of hair before reaching for her gloss. She teased, voice light but with that tired edge that never quite went away these days.
“Yeah, yeah. You gonna pat me on the head next?”
“Mmm, maybe after your first private dance of the night. If you’re good girl.”
Bambi grinned and Y/N huffed a laugh, pressing her lips together to even out the gloss. A month and some into this life, and she wasn’t sure if she was settling in or just getting better at pretending she had. It was easier now- knowing the regulars, knowing what songs meant what, knowing how to smile just enough but not too much. The money helped.
God, did the money help.
She glanced down at her phone, screen lighting up with a notification.
JJ : Staying at John B’s
JJ : See you tmr
JJ : Good luck at work!!!
Y/N stares at the screen for a moment, her stomach twisting like it always does when she thinks about how much she’s keeping from him. He thinks she picked up an extra night cleaning shift at the country club since that’s what she told him. He has no idea that while he’s crashing at the chateau, she’s slipping into heels and stepping onto a stage under flashing neon lights. She locks her phone, pushing the thought away.
Guilt won’t pay the bills.
“Busy night, you think?”
She spoke as she ignored the message, flipping the phone over and looking back at the girl next to her. Bambi gave a lazy stretch, rolling out her shoulders.
“Always is on a Friday. High rollers’ll be in. You might get lucky.”
“Yeah, real lucky.”
Y/N scoffed, grabbing her perfume and spritzing it lightly over her collarbones. Bambi side-eyed her, then leaned in with a smirk.
“Come on, Bunny. You might actually have fun tonight. If not, at least make it worth your while.”
Y/N just hummed, adjusting the strap on her heel as the familiar pulse of bass-heavy music leaked in from the club floor. The music thrums through the floor as Y/N steps out of the dressing room, the familiar pulse of bass settling into her bones. The club is alive tonight- packed booths, the bar swarmed with men flashing cash, neon strobes flickering over clinking glasses and loose laughter. Bambi walks beside her, adjusting the strap of her bra as she surveys the crowd.
“It’s a good night,” she muses, eyes gleaming as a man waves down a waitress with a fat roll of bills in his hand.
“Everyone’s in a generous mood hmm.”
“Looks like it.”
Y/N hums, already spotting a few regulars scattered through the crowd. The air is thick with perfume and cologne, the scent of whiskey and something heavier and smokier lingering beneath. Girls weave through the crowd, balancing trays of drinks, draping themselves over men who let them. The DJ’s set switches, the bass rattling the room, A voice calls from near the DJ booth, and Bambi nudges Y/N with her hip, a smirk tugging at her lips as she sends her a little kiss.
“Knock ’em dead, baby.”
Y/N exhales, rolling her shoulders back as she steps into the chaos of the club. The energy is thick tonight- bodies packed around the stage, eager hands already tossing bills, the bass thrumming deep in her ribs. She grips the pole, the cool metal grounding her for a brief moment before she moves.The nerves are familiar but distant now, part of the routine; she’s used to it- the way the outside world fades the second she steps onto the platform.
Her body flows with the music, slow and teasing at first, rolling her hips as she wraps a leg around the pole and lifts herself with ease. She spins, the world blurring for a second, heels gliding effortlessly over the platform. A whistle cuts through the noise. A few more bills flutter at her feet.
She twists, sliding down with a deliberate drag before pushing herself back up, hooking her knee and arching her back; thighs squeezing the pole as she extends her body in a perfect line. The music pulses, dictating her movements- fluid and sultry. For a moment, there’s nothing but the heat of the lights and the electric charge of the crowd.
But then as she lifts her gaze mid-spin, her eyes catch on something in the far corner.
Two men in a booth, half-hidden in the dim lighting. They sit relaxed, a quiet presence amidst the chaos, yet people keep coming up to them- leaning in, hands subtly exchanging cash, small bags slipping from one palm to another. She doesn’t need to look too closely to know what’s going down. She presses her palm to the pole, as her feet hit the platform again, hips swaying slowly, her focus slipping back to the crowd in front of her, but something gnaws at her, pulling her attention back. Then, the lights shift, a quick flash of neon, just bright enough to cut through the shadows, and she sees him.
Rafe Cameron.
And he’s looking right at her.
Leaning back in the booth, one arm draped lazily over the seat, a glass of whiskey in his other hand. Her breath catches in her throat, her grip faltering just slightly as she steadies herself. But it’s too late. Her moment is stiffer now, the tension stretched between them, across the crowded room, and he’s locked in the way he watches her. Unblinking. She can’t tell what he’s thinking but she knows one thing for certain-
He knows exactly who she is.
Y/N forces herself to keep moving, to stay in rhythm with the music despite the ice-cold feeling creeping up her spine. But it’s impossible to ignore the weight of Rafe’s stare. It lingers burning through the dim haze of the club. She glides down the pole, making sure to keep her expression smooth- indifferent. Her heart is hammering against her ribs, but no one in the audience would know it. They see only the show, the slow hypnotising sway of her hips as she lands back on the stage, the way her fingers tease at the hem of her lace bra before she moves toward the edge of the stage dropping to her knees. The song is winding down. One last arch of her back, one last deliberate sweep of her hands up her thighs before letting the final beat pulse through her body.
Applause, whistles, the sound of crisp bills hitting the stage.
She scoops up what she can as she stands, but her mind is barely there. Not when she can still feel the weight of him watching. As she steps offstage, she risks a glance toward the booth again.This time Barry is grinning, chatting with some guy in a backwards cap who’s slipping a wad of cash into his pocket. And Rafe- he’s still looking at her, Y/N’s breath catches as their eyes meet again and this time, he smirks. It’s small, almost lazy, but there’s something in it that makes her stomach flip.
Shit.
She rips her gaze away, hurrying toward the bar, barely registering the sound of heels clicking against the floor or the music thumping through the speakers. She drops her earnings into her basket at the end of the bar- before grabbing a glass of water. Her hands are steady as she lifts it, but her heart is pounding wildly. The bartender gives her a once-over as she wipes down the counter.
“Damn, Bunny- y'look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“You have no idea.”
Y/N exhales, pressing the cold glass to her lips. Her eyes drift back to Rafe before she can stop herself. He’s talking to someone else now, some guy in a backward cap, shaking his hand as something small and discreet trades between them-
Fucking hell.
She jumps at the sudden touch on her arm, nearly spilling her drink. Whipping around, she exhales sharply when she sees who it is.
“Jesus, Tommy.”
“What’s up with you?”
“Nothing- It’s nothing.”
She responds as she shakes her head slightly, Tommy doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it slide.
“Someone put in a request for you.”
“Who?”
Y/N wipes her palm against her thigh, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up her spine. Tommy leans in slightly, his voice calling out over the music as his head nods in the direction she was just looking.
“Rafe Cameron.”
Y/N freezes and Tommy notices her stiff shoulders instantly.
“Something I should know about?”
“Um… I think he and his friend are selling coke-”
“—I know”
Tommy says easily as he picks up one of the clean empty glasses on the bar, putting it away. Y/N frowns at his words. Since the first day she’d started working here, he had stated to her he had ‘zero-tolerance’ for any of the girls doing coke… so how come now, Rafe Cameron was allowed to walk in here and make this his personal dealing spot.
“But I thought you—”
“I made a deal with them,” he shrugs, “keeps people coming in, keeps them buying drinks. Business is business Y/N.”
“Right.”
Y/N purses her lips as he speaks and Tommy studies her for a moment, then gestures towards where Rafe was sitting, once again passing over something she couldn't quite make out to a man in a white shirt.
“I can send someone else, but you’ll lose out on the cash for the night.”
His voice has that slight edge to it, the one that tells her he won’t be making a habit of exceptions. She hesitates. She could probably say no. She should say no. But then she thinks about the pile of bills waiting for her at home, the ones she still doesn’t know how she’s going to all pay.
“I—” She clears her throat.
“It’s fine.”
“Good. He’s waiting.”
Y/N exhales, setting her glass down with a quiet clink and then she turns, smoothing out her hair, checking her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. Rafe still leaned back in one of the lounge chairs, legs spread, arm slung over the back of the seat. Barry is beside him, but he isn’t paying attention to whatever he’s saying. His eyes are already on her.
Watching.
Waiting.
She swallows hard, ignoring the way her pulse kicks up as she straightens her shoulders and starts moving toward him. Her heels click against the floor, her movements slow and she can feel the weight of his gaze. When she finally stops in front of him, Rafe tips his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Hey there, Bunny.”
Y/N clenches her jaw at the sound of his voice- low and smooth, edged with amusement. She doesn’t let it show, though. Instead, she gives him the same sultry smile she’s perfected for every other man who’s sat in front of her.
“Cameron”
She says, tilting her head slightly, letting her fingers trail lightly over her bare thigh. Rafe grins like this is all some kind of joke. Like she isn’t standing in front of him in six-inch heels and a barely-there outfit, about to dance for him like she doesn’t know exactly who he is.
"Didn’t think I’d ever see you here"
His voice is smug like he’s savouring every second of this. Y/N bites back a retort. She wants to tell him to fuck off. Wants to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here, why he put in a request for her.
But she doesn’t.
Because she can’t.
Her fingers twitch by her side as she takes a step closer instead, smoothly moving into his space. Rafe doesn’t move back. If anything, his smirk deepens as he spreads his legs a little wider and Barry chuckles beside him, knocking back the rest of his drink before running his hand over his head. He mutters, already moving to stand.
“ 'ight I’ll leave you to it,”
But before he can leave, Rafe shakes his head, a smirk pulling at his lips,
"No, no—stay man."
Y/N’s stomach twists. She doesn’t want an audience, especially not Barry, she doesn't even want to be doing this in the first place. The club is still packed, neon lights flickering across the space. There are men scattered around, girls in their laps, some whispering things in their ears that’ll have them reaching for their wallets without hesitation. Y/N has done this a hundred times now. She knows the drill.
But this- this is different.
She inhales slowly as she notices Barry sitting back in his seat, eyes racking over her body and she has to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She hesitant, her inner conflict gnawing at her mind but eventually she lets out a small breath a moves forward, swinging a leg over Rafe’s lap, lowering herself onto his thighs, moving her hips in a way that’s meant to tease. She lets her hands trail up his chest in a way that’s meant to be practiced and seductive. But then- his hand comes to rest on her hip.
Her whole body tenses.
Rafe notices. Of course he does. His thumb presses against the curve of her hip, just enough to make her teeth clench. Y/N forces a tight-lipped smile, shifting on his lap just enough to make it look like part of the dance- but really, it’s an attempt to put space between them. Her voice stays low, sharp beneath the sultry act.
"There’s a no-touching policy."
Rafe’s smirk doesn’t falter. If anything, it deepens. His fingers stay right where they are, his grip on her hip solid, unmoving. He tilts his head slightly, blue eyes gleaming with something threatening.
"None of the policies here apply to me, Maybank."
He speaks out as his finger slips under the strap of her black thong, tugging on it and letting it snap back into position, the feeling causing a sharp sting on her skin. The way he says her last name- it’s teasing, taunting. Like he enjoys the way it sounds in his mouth and Y/N can’t help but clench her jaw at the thought, heat creeping up her neck.bShe doesn’t let her movements falter though, even as his words sink into her skin like a slow-burning ember. Her ass grinds down onto his lap intone with the song blaring out through teh clubs speakers, her fingers trailing over his shoulders, a practiced motion, a distraction- for herself more than for him.
“That so?”
She murmurs, voice light, teasing, playing into the role she’s supposed to be in. Rafe lets out a quiet hum, his thumb stroking over the thin fabric of her outfit.
“Mhm. I don’t think Tommy would wanna lose his best customers, do you?”
She bites down on the inside of her cheek at his words but th rhythmic roll of her hips never stops. She knows he' s pushing her.
It’s in his nature.
Barry lets out a low whistle from his seat which is followed by a chuckle. Her eye's drift over to him sitting his legs spread wide as he takes lazy sips from his drink.
“Damn didn’t peg you for this line of work Maybank. Not that I’m complainin’.”
Her spine stiffens, at she meets his eye's- yet she refuses to give them the satisfaction of leaving before the song is finished. Her focus shifts to Rafe, on the smug expression he wears as he watches her, like he’s got all the time in the world.
Like he’s enjoying this far too much.
Y/N exhales sharply through her nose. He’s trying to get under her skin. And it’s working. Rafe grins, his grip on her hips unwavering he taunts, his other hand sliding down to her thigh, drifting awfully close to her inner thigh as he tilts his head slightly.
“What’s the matter huh? You dance for all these guys, but you’re nervous around me?”
The song drags on, seconds feeling like minutes. Her body moves on instinct, performing for him, back arching as she struggles not to unravel under his gaze. And then, just as she starts to think she can get through this without losing it- he leans in. His breath fans against her ear as he speaks, voice just low enough for only her to hear.
“Wonder what your brother would think if he saw you like this.”
His voice is casual, but there’s something sharp behind it, something that makes her stomach twist. Her jaw tightens.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Just seems like something he’d wanna know,”
Rafe doesn’t even acknowledge her as she speaks, his full attention locked onto the way her hips are still grinding against him. He muses, tilting his head.
“Bet he thinks you’re a little cleaner or somethin' huh?”
Her pulse thrums in her ears, but she doesn’t let it show. Rafe’s smirk deepens, catching the movement. His fingers drum now against her knee.
“Relax, Y/N. I’m just making conversation.”
“Yeah? Funny, doesn’t feel like that.”
She scoffs under her breath. He hums, tilting his head as he takes her in, eyes darting down from her face. Her stomach knots, but she refuses to cower under his gaze. Instead, she leans in just enough that only he can hear her. “You know,” she murmurs, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness,
“most guys just pay and keep their mouths shut.”
Rafe tutted, a slow, mocking sound, then, before she can react, Rafe casually plucks a few crisp fifty-dollar bills from the stack in front of him. His fingers ghost along the curve of her waist before he shoves them right between her pushed up tits, tucking the money into her bra. Heat rushes to her face- not from embarrassment, but from the pure, seething hatred bubbling up inside her. Her jaw tightens, and she shoots him a glare so sharp it could cut glass. Barry, watching the whole thing unfold, bursts into laughter, slapping his knee like it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all night.
“Country Club” he wheezes, “she gon' kill you man”
“Nah,” he drawls, eyes flicking up to hers.
“She likes it.”
Rafe just smirks, leaning back lazily in his seat and she scoffs, the sound sharp and dripping with disgust, before snatching the money from between her tits and throwing it straight at him. The crisp bills flutter uselessly against his chest before falling into his lap, but she doesn’t care.
She doesn’t want his money- doesn’t want anything from him.
She shifts to push off his lap, to put distance between them, but Rafe moves faster. His hand snaps around her wrist in an iron grip, yanking her back down before she can escape. A sharp gasp slips from her lips as she stumbles into him, her free hand landing against his chest to steady herself.
He’s close now.
Too close.
Rafe’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by something more irritated as he stares up at her. His fingers tighten around her wrist, his grip just bordering on painful, a silent warning.
“I’d be real careful, Bunny”
Rafe murmurs, his voice low and laced with something that makes her stomach uneasy. Her breath catches, but she refuses to look away, her glare burning into him. He tilts his head slightly, his smirk creeping back as he studies her reaction.
“You wouldn’t want your brother to hear about this little conversation, would you?”
The words hang heavy between them, and she swallows hard, her pulse hammering. Y/N sits there, her body tense, her expression carved from pure, unfiltered hatred. Every fiber of her being screams at her to move, to slap that smug look off his face, but she doesn’t. Because if Rafe tells JJ… she doesn’t know what she’d do.
He watches her, sharp and calculating, before plucking the discarded money from his lap. He folds the crisp bills between his fingers in half, before bringing them up to her face. His eyes stay locked on hers, and his lips curl into that insufferable smirk.
“Open up”
He murmurs, voice taunting but firm. Her jaw clenches and she doesn’t move. Amusement flickers in his gaze, but there’s something else there too- something that tells her that she'd not got much choice now. He lifts a brow, daring her to defy him and she hates herself for it, but after a long, thick moment of silence, she slowly parts her lips. Rafe hums in satisfaction, slipping the folded-up bills between her teeth.
“Atta girl”
He muses as she bites down, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary before he pulls away. He leans back lazily in his seat, studying her with open amusement, eyes flicking between the money in her mouth and the fire still burning in her gaze. She can tell he’s so fucking satisfied. The song finally comes to an end, the heavy bass fading into the low murmur of conversation and clinking glasses. The second the last note plays and a new one begins, she jerks her wrist free from his grasp, ripping her hand away like his touch burns her.
Her mind is racing- anger, humiliation, and something else she doesn’t want to name all tangling together in a storm inside her chest. She stands abruptly, plucking the money from between her lips with two fingers like it’s tainted. Without even sparing him a glance, she turns on her heel, ready to put as much distance between herself and Rafe Cameron as possible.
But then- she feels it.
The sharp smack lands right on her ass, firm and unapologetic. A small gasp passes her lips and the audacity of it sends white-hot anger surging through her veins, and she whips around so fast her hair nearly follows the motion. Barry is already laughing, a deep, wheezing sound, blowing out a thick puff of smoke as he watches the scene unfold like it’s the best entertainment of the night.
And Rafe?
Rafe just grins up at her, infuriatingly relaxed, his expression unreadable save for the smug amusement dancing in his eyes. Then, as if he hadn't already done enough, he puckers his lips, blowing her a lazy, taunting little kiss to her. She stares at him, disgust and fury twisting in her chest, her fists clenching at her sides- heart thumping heavily in her chest as she becomes certain of one thing.
summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: Well well well- guess whose back. Thought I'd do a little surprise drop just for the plot BAHAHAH. Lets see, more drama obviously cause our girl cant catch a break, more domestic bunny and rafe and a little special feature for our girl Naomi cause I've missed her. I love Sarah Cameron. As the end of the series draws nearer I lowkey feel kinda emotional, I feel like nothings ever gonna beat rafe and bunny for me. 1 more chapter after this to go my loves x
warnings: allusions to sex, angst, violence (yelling/arguing) (jj pmo), mentions of past abuse (bruises ect), soft!rafe and Soft!bunny (they're so domestic)
The soft hum of tires against the road was the only sound cutting through the silence inside the twinkie. Sarah sat up front, leaning her elbow against the open window as her fingers tapped against her thigh. Her eyes flicked between the side mirror and John B’s profile. The brunette boy’s hands were tight on the steering wheel very much mirroring the tense mood in the backseat. Pope sat beside JJ, who was slumped against the wall of the van, head resting back, his phone clutched in his hand like it was the only thing keeping him anchored. JJ’s eyes were trained on the screen, scrolling through the messages he’d sent Y/N- all left on read.
“I’m sorry I should’ve said something”
“I should’ve stopped him”
“I was just in shock”
“Come home”
“You're still my sister no matter what”
“I love you”
He blinked hard, jaw tightening as he shoved the heel of his palm against his eye, like he could push down the sting building behind it. “C’mon, man,” Pope said quietly, nudging him with his shoulder.
“You’ve been moping for two days straight.”
“I’m not moping,” JJ muttered.
“You’re definitely moping”
Sarah piped up from the front seat, not turning around. “You haven’t said a word since we left the Chateau.” “I just…” JJ sighed finally shifting upright, placing his hands into the floor of the van and pushing himself up slightly,
“I don’t get how she could cut us off like this.”
“She’s not thinking like that,” Pope said gently. “She just needs time. After everything with your dad and Rafe-”
“-don’t say his name”
JJ snapped, a little too quickly. His voice cracked with it and he clenched his jaw and turned his face back toward the window. Pope leaned forward a bit, trying to bridge the gap.
“Look, we’re gonna grab Sarah’s stuff, then we’ll look for her. Maybe she just… needed space? That doesn’t mean she’s gone forever dude.”
JJ didn’t respond, just glanced back down at his phone, the screen dark now.
No new notifications
No answer from her
The Twinkie came to a slow stop outside the metal gates, the loud rattle of the van’s engine stark against the immaculate house before them. Inside the van, Kiara leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the grand front entrance.
“You still got the key?”
She asked, glancing at Sarah. The blonde girl pulled her tote bag into her lap and rummaged through it, the jingle of metal briefly filling the space before she held up a single key.
“Yeah I do.”
“What if he’s changed the locks?”
Cleo raised a brow from the back, arms crossed. Sarah let out an unimpressed scoff, already opening her door.
“I’d like to think he’s not that petty.”
From the driver’s seat, John B snorted. “Yeah right, you’ve clearly never met him”
Sarah shot him a dry stare as she swung her legs out the door and hopped out. The rest of the group followed- door creaking, feet hitting the pavement, the usual shuffling of trainers on the floor. Once she was facing the tall front gate Sarah paused, then turned, arms folded tight across her chest, scanning the group all lined up behind her.
“You’re all coming?!”
The rest of them exchanged a look, a quick unspoken conversation bouncing between the Pogues like a game of mental ping-pong. Then John B stepped forward with a shrug.
“Uh… yeah?”
Kiara raised a brow, “What, you thought we were gonna just sit in the van like unpaid Uber drivers... ?”
Sarah stood at the tall black gate, her fingers punching in the familiar code on the silver keypad. A faint beep… then a soft click. The gate creaked open slowly, and she gave it a push, slipping through the gap as the others quietly followed behind her one by one. JJ paused just before crossing the threshold, glancing up at the looming house beyond the hedges. He swallowed hard, thumb still brushing the corner of his phone screen inside his pocket.
The six of them walked in a tight, quiet cluster up the long cobblestone driveway. The sound of gravel crunching under their shoes was the only thing breaking the silence. Sarah looked over her shoulder, voice low but firm.
“Okay, just- keep quiet. I don’t know if he’s home.”
Pope turned back slightly toward JJ, who was trailing behind the group, his gaze flicking up toward the house’s tall windows. “You good?” Pope murmured but JJ didn’t answer at first.
It was his fault that all of this had happened.
His fault Y/N had gone radio silent and disappeared without a word.
His fault she was even in this mess to begin with.
JJ could feel it- this sharp, burning fury crawling up the back of his throat and settling heavy in his chest just at the thought of him. He swallowed it down, his jaw tight and his fingers twitching with the urge to hit something.
Anything.
Him.
His hand clenched briefly, then he gave Pope a stiff nod before looking back to Sarah who was already climbing the few steps to the grand double doors, her fingers gripping the key. She turned back to them one more time.
“Last chance to turn around.”
Cleo gave her a look, “We already broke in- might as well finish the job.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning light crept slowly across the living room, golden rays spilling in through the sheer curtains. It stretched across the floorboards and kissed the edge of the couch before it climbed its way up and reached them tangled together in their sleep. Y/N was still curled on Rafe’s chest, her cheek pressed to his bare skin- the slow rise and fall of his breathing lulling her deeper into rest. The blanket they’d pulled over themselves sometime in the night had slipped down to their waists leaving their upper bodies exposed to the warmth of the sun. His hand, large and steady, remained protectively across her back, holding her to him even in sleep.
However their soft morning stillness was soon broken.
Rafe stirred first his brow furrowing as a sound reached him through the haze of sleep; the faint, unmistakable rattle of a door handle being twisted repeatedly, followed by the subtle click of a lock. His eyes snapped open fully now and he sat up slowly, his hand still staying firm against Y/N’s back to support her where she lay curled against him. For a second, he held his breath and listened.
Another click.
Then the quiet creak of the front door swinging open.
Y/N shifted against him at the sudden movement, her lashes fluttering before her voice mumbled groggy with sleep,
“What’s going on…?”
“I don’t know, I-” Rafe’s voice was still thick with sleep but before he could finish muffled voices echoed from the front of the house, indistinct at first but quickly growing clearer.
“Just shut up guys, c’mon”
“Ow! John B- that’s my foot!”
“Why are you literally standing on my ass then Kie?”
Y/N went rigid on his chest as she sat up and turned her wide, panicked eyes toward Rafe. All the colour drained from her face. Her voice came out in a frantic whisper,
“What are they doing here?!”
Rafe was already sitting up, scanning the room with quick eyes the sleepy fog gone in an instant.
“C’mon”
He hissed under his breath. Y/N sat up fast, clutching the blanket to her chest as her heart thundered in her ribcage. They scrambled, hands, fabric and limbs moving in frantic coordination. She chucked his sweatpants at him as he stood, pulling them on in one rough motion, still shirtless. She whisper-yelled, glancing around in panic.
“Where the fuck did you throw my clothes?!”
“I don’t know- Jesus, I wasn’t exactly thinking about where I tossed them at the time!”
Rafe whispered back, eyes sweeping the room. She let out a sharp breath, the blanket still wrapped tight around her like a towel, standing barefoot in the middle of the sudden chaos that their peaceful morning had escalated to. Her bra was nowhere in sight. Her jeans- gone.
And her panties?
She spotted them thrown over the lampshade by the couch.
Of course
Rafe was halfway across the room, crouched behind the coffee table when the sound of footsteps grew louder before coming to a sudden stop and when Y/N whipped around to look in the direction of the sound,
Sarah was standing there having stopped dead in her tracks.
Her eyes landed on Y/N, wrapped in nothing but a blanket and then flicked to Rafe, shirtless and breathless. Her mouth dropped open.
“Oh my god.”
The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. Y/N’s eyes went wide as Sarah blinked unmoving, once then twice like her brain was rebooting. They were all just standing there- frozen in a silence so thick it was becoming suffocating. Y/N’s fingers clenched tighter around the blanket at her chest and Rafe’s shoulders were tense, his jaw locked. Sarah looked like she’d just walked into an alternate universe, eyes flicking between the two of them, lips parted like she didn’t know what to say first. Rafe’s sharp voice broke the silence,
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I- I was just-”
Sarah’s lips moved but no more sound came out. She blinked again as she took a breath to speak but then a voice cut through the tension, whisper echoing in from the hallway with a clueless lilt.
“Hey Sarah, where’d you go…?”
Y/N froze.
No
No no no—
Her heart stopped cold.
She didn’t even have time to react before JJ rounded the corner. His steps slowed the second he saw them, his sister and Rafe; half-dressed, clothes scattered on the floor, the blanket wrapped around her, Rafe shirtless, her bra- right fucking there- thrown over the back of the couch. JJ’s entire body stiffened as his eyes locked on her, then Rafe, then down to the floor and back up again and then his face twisted.
“What the fuck.”
“Jay—” Y/N stepped forward instinctively, her voice breathless as she reached a hand out.
“It’s not what it looks like-”
“-not what it looks like?” he scoffed.
“Are you serious right now?”
His voice cracked around the edges, a mix of rage and betrayal bleeding through every syllable that left his mouth. His chest rose and fell in quick, angry breaths as he stared at his sister- the one who’d ghosted him for two days, ignored his texts and had his heart breaking- and now had Rafe fucking Cameron standing next to her. “You disappeared,” he spat.
“You don’t answer me and this is why?”
“JJ-” Rafe warned, stepping forward slightly but JJ’s glare whipped to him like fire catching gasoline.
“Don’t fucking talk to me.”
“Stop it, okay?”
Y/N suddenly snapped, stepping into the wide space between them before JJ could say anything more. Her voice trembled slightly but there was still sternness in her tone,
“You have no idea what’s going on.”
JJ let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head like she was actually insane. He spoke out, arms outstretched mockingly to gesture between Y/N and the boy standing next to her, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
“Oh I’m pretty sure I know exactly what’s going on”
“Excuse me?”
Y/N’s jaw clenched but JJ didn’t seem to hesitate or hold back. He was too angry, too heartbroken, certainly too blindsided by his fury to bite his tongue.
“Looks like what Dad said was right.”
The words hit her like a slap and her breath caught in her throat, the blanket still clutched in her fingers, but looser now. Her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything because she knew exactly what JJ meant. Those words- those vile, disgusting things her father screamed at her before he kicked her out- they were still fresh in her mind, still echoing in her skull on loop. And now JJ, her own brother, was throwing them in her face too? Her chest tightened and the burn started behind her eyes before she could stop it. There was a sudden sound of shuffling growing louder in the hallway, before the rest of the Pogues walked in, their eyes landing on the scene in front of them. Pope slowed confused, and Cleo and Kiara’s brows furrowed. But John B took one look at Y/N’s tear-filled eyes and JJ practically vibrating with rage a few feet opposite her and he muttered under his breath quietly but unmistakably clear-
“Oh shit.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened when he saw her. Y/N’s eyes were glassy, her hand trembling slightly where it clutched the blanket against her chest and her shoulders had drawn in, like she was trying to make herself smaller. She wasn't going to be treated like this, not in front of him under his roof. “Alright,” Rafe muttered stepping forward slowly and dangerously calm,
“You need to leave.”
“Get the fuck outta my face”
JJ spat his eyes snapped to Rafe, shoving him back with both hands. Rafe stumbled a step, but the fury that flashed in his eyes was immediate. John B’s voice cut in, trying to de-escalate the sudden storm that had erupted in the room,
“Okay man, I think we should-”
“No!” JJ barked spinning toward him.
“NO! I’m not fucking leaving, alright?!”
Then he turned back on his heel to Y/N, stepping toward her with betrayal bleeding out of every pore. He jabbed his finger in her direction angrily,
“I can’t fucking believe you would do this to me! Seriously?! After everything that we’ve- he’s tormented us for years, and now you’re here- what- sucking his dick?!”
Y/N shook her head in disbelief backing away a step, her bare feet quiet against the hardwood. She felt like the wind had been punched out of her lungs. “Hey!” Rafe shouted, stepping between them like a shield.
“Watch your fucking mouth.”
And then- he shoved JJ, hard. The blonde Pogue stumbled back, his chest still heaving. It looked like he was ready to throw a punch back in the Kook’s direction but then Y/N’s voice cracked through the standoff, pleading and desperate.
“JJ that’s not what this is, I swear- just listen to me please”
Her voice was breaking now, tears slipping down her cheeks despite her best effort to swallow them down. Her eyes bounced between the two boys, panic setting in as it all spiraled out of control. John B took JJ by the arm, yanking him back before anything worse could happen.
“Just chill out.”
He muttered harshly under his breath, glancing toward the others. Pope was already stepping in too, grabbing JJ’s other side with a firm hand.
“C’mon calm down.”
But Rafe wasn’t paying attention to them, instead his body was angled blocking Y/N from JJ’s view. His hand gently found her back, trying to ground her as she appeared visibly shook, her breaths short and quick. Sarah stood frozen near the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, this was her fault. She brought them here. She didn’t even think about the possibility of her being here. JJ shrugged both boys off with a rough jerk of his shoulders and suddenly, his voice cracked through the air again like a whip,
“You’re not a Maybank, you know that?”
Y/N’s brows furrowed, her voice small and cracking, “what… what are you talking about?”
“A Maybank would never betray their own blood”
JJ’s eyes were glossy now too and Y/N flinched like he’d hit her. Her lips parted trembling, her whole body shivering despite the blanket still clutched around her.
“Jay I love you, you're still my broth-”
Her voice broke as small sobs bubbled out of her chest now, no longer hidden. Her throat felt raw. Rafe turned instantly, cupping her cheek and whispering urgently shielding her from the looks of the rest of them.
“Hey, hey- shh- it’s okay, it’s okay”
In the back Kiara was already pushing past Pope and John B, her palm landing square on JJ’s chest with force. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she hissed. “That’s your sister— what the hell are you doing?!” JJ’s jaw was clenched, fists balled at his sides, his eyes bore into Y/N, who was curled slightly into Rafe now, like she was a stranger.
"Guess selling yourself came easier than telling me the truth"
Y/N let out the softest, broken gasp- a wounded sound that barely passed her lips. Rafe stiffened, his entire body went rigid, jaw clenched and he turned on his heel so fast it startled even Cleo.
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
Rafe’s voice boomed through the room like thunder.
“NOW!”
JJ didn’t flinch, he didn’t move either but John B and Pope didn’t wait. They grabbed him- each taking one arm- dragging him back toward the hall as he thrashed back against them, with gritted teeth and burning eyes.
“Let me go- fuck- LET GO OF ME-”
They’d already pulled him out, and his shouting faded into muffled echoes down the corridor. The front door slammed and silence followed. Y/N was shaking in Rafe’s arms, hands fisted in the material of the blanket around her. He just held her tighter, his hand cradling the back of her head, the other rubbing soothing circles down her spine. Behind them, Sarah stood still, guilt choking her. “Rafe,” she said quietly, voice breaking.
“I didn’t know. I swear- I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t even know she was here- I’m sorry, I-”
Rafe sighed, long and slow, his hand never leaving Y/N’s back. He glanced over his shoulder tired,
“Sarah… just go.”
Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat, gave one last look at Y/N crumpled against him, then turned and walked out without another word.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rafe’s bedroom was dim and quiet, except for the low hum of the fan overhead and the occasional rustle of sheets as Y/N shifted beneath them. She laid on the large queen-size mattress, an oversized t-shirt of his covering her frame. The door creaked open gently and Rafe stepped in, balancing a mug firmly in his hand. He murmured, setting it down on the bedside table with a soft clink.
“Brought you something,”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head, then he sank onto the bed beside her, laying on his side to face her, his head resting in the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the cushions. Y/N blinked at him through her lashes before turning to properly look at him, her voice still somewhat hoarse but nevertheless teasing.
“I didn’t know Rafe Cameron knew how to make tea.”
“Yeah well, I’d learn how to make that weird green drink you like if you wanted.”
Her brow lifted as he gave her a smile.
“Matcha?”
“That thing.”
He nodded like it was some foreign concept, not that he drank anything outside of black coffee. Her smile cracked through her exhaustion and Rafe watched her carefully for a second before brushing a hand against her arm, fingers sliding up and down the exposed skin, soft to the touch.
“You okay?”
She hesitated, her lips parting as if the answer was trying to form, but never quite managed to get out. “Yeah, I guess I just…” Finally, she let out a sigh.
“I don’t know how I expected him to find out but… that wasn’t it.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
Rafe’s expression dimmed and he kissed his teeth before letting out a deep breath himself. She shook her head immediately, voice gentle.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Well…. I sorta think it is.”
Y/N shuffled herself closer towards him, propping her own elbow against the pillow, letting her rest her head on her hand. Her eyes met his and she tilted her head a little before humming as though deep in though,
“Hmmm… that’s a little awkward then”
That pulled a soft laugh out of him, “Yeah, just a bit.”
They laid there like that for a beat before slowly, like he couldn't help himself, he pushed forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. His hand came up to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing over the skin just beneath her eye. When he pulled back, his eyes flickered down to the fading bruise along her cheekbone,
"It looks better."
She nodded slowly, lips pressing together, “Mmhmm.” But her eyes were distant, like her mind was still somewhere back in that living room. Rafe stayed close, his hand still holding her face like he was anchoring her to the present. His thumb gently traced over the curve of her jaw.
"You can talk to me"
He said after a moment. She didn’t respond right away. Just leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as her fingers curled lightly in the fabric of his t-shirt. Then she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, "He looked at me like I was a stranger." Rafe’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything. Just let her speak, his thumb brushing slowly across her cheek. "It’s not even what he said. Not really. It’s just-" her throat tightened,
"He meant it."
Silence settled again, thick and aching. Rafe shifted slightly closer, pressing a kiss to her temple as he let out a small sigh,
"He was hurt and angry- not that I'm defending him- but people say dumb shit when they’re angry"
"I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me."
Rafe was quiet, watching the girl as she sat up and brought her hand up to run over the arch of her brow. He sat up on the bed himself, back comfortably against the headboard as he spoke out,
"Then he’s not who you thought he was."
"He’s my baby Rafe."
Her voice was soft and breaking as she spoke, eyes glassed over again as she pulled her knees up, looping her arms around them. "I brought him up. Ever since he was a little blonde-haired toddler. I’ve looked after him, protected him- God, I used to wipe his nose and teach him how to tie his laces. I just..." She dropped her head into her palm, elbow resting against her knee her voice nearly a whisper now,
"I just want my baby back."
Rafe didn’t say anything right away. He just reached over and rested a hand on her back, rubbing slow, steady circles like he was trying to ease an invisible ache he couldn’t fix. "He’s still your baby" he murmured eventually.
"Give him time, he’ll come around."
Her eyes lifted, full of doubt, "And if he doesn’t?"
"You still have me."
He added the words gently, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced at her. She couldn’t help it, a tiny smile bloomed on her lips too, and she nudged her shoulder into his, their arms brushing. "Well gee," she murmured, tilting her head toward him,
"Isn’t that an upgrade."
Rafe huffed out a low laugh, his eyebrows raising, "Damn right it is," he shot back with a smirk.
"I make you tea"
"Oh yeah, the bare minimum. You’re really setting the bar high Rafe."
Rafe smirked, then without a word, slipped his arm around her waist and gently tugged her down with him until she was lying flat against his chest. She let out a soft surprised laugh, the breath leaving her lungs as she landed against him. He looked down at her and pressed a slow, tender kiss to her lips.
"Only the best for my girl"
He murmured against her mouth and she giggled softly, her fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt. It felt safe, easy even, but then his tone shifted, not necessarily heavy but more serious. "Speaking of that..." Her smile faltered just a little as she pulled back enough to look up at him, brow furrowing slightly.
"What...?"
He paused just for a beat and she felt the subtle tension in his chest beneath her. "Since you're living with me now..." He trailed off again and she stayed quiet, giving him the space to speak.
"...I need you to do something for me."
She blinked her voice gentle, "Anything you want."
His jaw flexed once, he looked like he was chewing on it, the words, the timing, the fear of saying the wrong thing to her and fucking it all up again. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and said it voice low but steady:
"I want you to stop working at the strip club."
For a second, she didn't respond. Her brows knit tighter together as she lifted herself a little more, bracing a hand on the bed beside him.
"What...?"
It wasn’t angry. Just quiet and confused. Like it didn’t compute in her mind. She blinked, eyes searching his face like she hadn’t quite heard him right. “Rafe, I—” But he was already shaking his head,
“I know. I know you don’t wanna depend on me.”
He paused, “and I respect that.” His eyes held hers as he continued, “So you can work at the country club. Hell- pick up something else, I’ll help you look. But just…” he swallowed, voice thickening slightly.
“Please. No more dancing.”
She sat up fully, still facing him, legs folded under herself now as she looked at him with something close to disbelief. Not irritation, just shock and surprise.
“Are you being serious...?”
Her voice cracked a little at the end. It wasn’t judgmental, not even hesitant- just stunned. Rafe sat up too, shifting so they were eye to eye. “Yeah.” His voice didn’t waver,
“Let me take care of you.”
Her breath caught as he continued, “You don’t have to work yourself to the bone just to survive anymore, not with me.” His hand moved to hers, threading his fingers gently with hers like he was afraid she’d pull away.
“I know you’re strong and you’ve always figured it out yourself but…”
She didn’t say anything right away. Just looked down at their hands, her thumb brushing across his knuckles and then, quietly, almost like a whisper:
“Okay.”
She leaned forward slowly,
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.”
A soft smile tugged at her lips and he let out a quiet breath of relief then leaned in, pressing a warm lingering kiss to her lips, his thumb brushing her jaw. When he pulled back, a small smirk replaced the softness. “But… those cute little sets you’ve got-” His voice dropped an octave, playful now.
“You’ll still wear them for me, right?”
She let out an incredulous laugh, shoving him back against the mattress with both hands on his chest.
“You’re gross Cameron.”
He threw his hands up like he was surrendering, innocent of all charges that she was throwing at him, “What? I’m asking a reasonable question…” She bit back a grin as she swung her leg over his lap, settling comfortably against his thighs before leaning down, “Sure,” she murmured against his lips, kissing him again,
“The little sets are only for you now...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N sat tucked into the corner of a cozy little coffee shop, her fingers curled around a warm latte, although it remained untouched as her eyes kept drifting to the table across from her. A young couple sat there, blissfully unaware of anything but their baby. The mom had the little girl perched on her hip, bouncing her gently while the father reached out, making silly faces. The toddler giggled, tiny hands opening and closing as she made eager little grabby hands toward her dad’s face, like she couldn’t get enough of him. Her childish laughter rose above the soft clinking of dishes and quiet conversation around the cafe, a pure sound that made something ache in Y/N’s chest. She blinked, dragging her eyes back to the steam curling up from her drink just in time to hear a voice behind her:
“Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in.”
Y/N turned, already smiling before she even saw her. Naomi’s arms were crossed, one hip popped out slightly, oversized sunglasses perched on her head and her long acrylics drumming against her bicep. She looked dead serious, her expression tight.
But then she cracked.
“You bitch.”
She broke into a grin striding forward, Y/N stood up and was immediately wrapped in a tight, vanilla-scented hug. Naomi squeezed her like she meant it, “Hey, ‘Omi,” Y/N mumbled into her shoulder, suddenly breathless from how much she'd missed her. The girl pulled back, holding her at arm’s length.
“I was this close to filing a missing persons case. You had me picturing you dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve just… I’ve been busy.”
Y/N laughed and Naomi raised a brow, sliding into the seat across from her.
“Busy, huh?”
She looked Y/N up and down now, really taking her in; the clean hair, the soft looking oversized sweater, the lack of her brows drawn down in worry like they usually were and she narrowed her eyes slightly, legs crossing at the knee as she folded her arms
“This better not be 'cause of your little boy toy.”
Y/N went quiet, lips twitching like she was trying not to smile but the attempt didn’t last long. A grin cracked through. Naomi pointed at her triumphantly with a finger, “I knew it. I knewww it.” She tossed her braided hair over her shoulder pridefully,
“I had a feeling, you know, and my feelings are never wrong.”
Y/N laughed under her breath, rubbing a hand over her cheek, the bruise having faded- which she was grateful for as she knew Naomi would be asking questions otherwise.
“Are you mad at me?”
Naomi didn’t answer at first. She reached across the table, slid Y/N’s untouched latte toward herself, and took a slow unbothered sip like it belonged to her. She placed the cup down onto the small plate with a clink and then she looked to her,
“Mad? Why would I be mad at you Bunny?”
“I don’t know… 'cause I just like disappeared without a word?”
Naomi clicked her tongue with a small shake of her head in agreement, “Okay, yeah. I was mad. A little mad.” She held up two fingers, like an inch apart to try to reflect the annoyance she had at the girl, but she quickly waved her hand in Y/N’s direction as she continued, “But I’m not gonna hold it against you girl and besides you’ve seen me mad.” Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line, amused, before speaking out,
“I’ve seen you drag a man across a bar floor in six-inch heels.”
Naomi sat back, “Mmhmm, so trust me… if I was mad at you, you’d know.”
She picked up the cup again, her fingers wrapping around the warmth of it, took another sip, and gave a little satisfied nod. “Sorry, this is really good.” Y/N watched her, the corners of her eyes crinkling just slightly, that familiar heat blooming behind her ribs. She didn’t realise how much she’d missed this, missed Naomi, until this moment. The way she could cut through all the noise in her head without even trying. Naomi caught her looking and tilted her head.
“Are you gonna drink this or…?”
Y/N shook her head, “It’s all yours.”
Naomi grinned and pulled the cup closer, “Thanks, honey.” She leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, “Sooo…” she started her eyes gleaming like she was bracing for a juicy confession,
“Did you call me here cause you wanna know the club gossip or-”
“As tempting as that is, no. That’s not why I called you.”
Naomi tilted her head, her earrings catching the light as she gave her a mock squint. “It’s just cause you missed me, right?” Y/N gave her a look and said,
“Mmhmm. Yep. You got me there.”
That earned a full laugh from both of them, loud enough that the couple at the next table gave them a quick glance. A beat passed between them and Naomi took another sip, then glanced down at the cup before saying, “Well... I’ve missed you.” She didn’t say it like a joke, didn’t throw it out there for laughs or deflection. Just said it, quietly like it had been sitting on her chest since the last time they saw each other. Her gaze dropped to the coffee, swirling the liquid around slowly before speaking again.
“You know I don’t do emotions n’shit but... I’ve missed you.”
Y/N felt her throat catch for a second, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. Her voice was gentler when she finally spoke.
“I’ve missed you too.”
Their eyes met again, and for a moment, there was nothing between them; no neon lights, no heavy music, no mirrors or backstage chaos. Just two girls with a quiet understanding of each other. Naomi gave a soft little sniff, then she straightened up, “Okay, enough of the sappy shit.” Her voice returned to its usual sharpness, but the warmth behind her eyes didn’t fade.
“So what’s up? You coming back and wanna know what time slots are free this week?”
Y/N gave a soft breath of a laugh, but it was tight around the edges. Her gaze dropped to the table, her fingers beginning to tap out a slow rhythm against the wood grain.
“Yeah, um… it’s actually the opposite of that.”
A pause settled between them, heavy and still and then Naomi’s brows lifted slightly.
“... you’re leaving?”
Y/N didn’t speak at first. She just looked at her and then gave a quiet nod. Naomi leaned back slowly in her chair, jaw shifting like she was working through something. Her lips parted, like she might say something but then closed again. “Damn.” She tilted her head.
“So boy toy is your sugar daddy now, huh?”
“He’s not my sugar daddy.”
Y/N let out a breath of laughter and rolled her eyes, running a fingertip over the arch of her brow. Naomi narrowed her eyes like a lawyer catching someone in a lie mid case.
“Uh-huh. Does he drive a Range Rover?”
Y/N hesitated a second too long.
“…yes?”
That broke whatever tension was left, both of them bursting into giggles once more, Naomi nearly knocking her elbow on the table as she leaned forward and Y/N hiding her face behind her hands to calm herself down, both their stomachs starting to cramp from the laughter.
“That’s what I thought. Sugar. Daddy.”
“Stop you’re embarrassing me” Y/N laughed, kicking lightly at the girl's ankle under the table.
“He’s just… good to me. That’s all.”
Naomi tilted her head, gaze softening again- less teasing now like she knew the moment deserved more than just jokes. “Good,” she said, her voice quieter.
“You deserve better than the club anyway.”
Y/N looked at her, throat suddenly tight, the lump forming so fast it startled her. She swallowed it down with a soft breath, eyes lingering on Naomi’s face. “So do you.” Naomi just shook her head with a slow smile tugging at her lips knowingly. “That place is my home,” she murmured.
“And you know it.”
Y/N nodded, the motion small but full of understanding. She looked at the girl across from her; sharp-eyed, loud-mouthed, ride-or-die attitude. The one who did her lip liner for her backstage when her hands were shaking, who taught her how to count her cash fast and stand her ground even faster. “Well,” she said, her voice softer now,
“I’m glad that it managed to lure me in.”
“And why’s that exactly?”
“Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you.”
Y/N gave her a small, watery smile and Naomi groaned and tipped her head back dramatically.
“God, don’t be nice to me right now. I’ll cry all over my fake Gucci.”
Y/N laughed through her sniffle and reached across the table, fingers slipping into Naomi’s, palms pressed warm together on the wood of the table top. The girl didn’t pull away, just looked down at their hands, then up at Y/N. Her voice was softer than Y/N had ever heard it.
“I’m proud of you.”
Y/N smiled, a little tremble in it as she tried, really hard, to keep it together.
“I love you Omi.”
Naomi batted her lashes, her lips quirking upwards, “I know. I’m very lovable.”
Time passed faster than the girls expected as they sat at the table, one latte having turned to three and before they knew it the sky had started to bleed into an orange hue. Naomi let out a long breath, giving Y/N’s hand one last squeeze before letting go, she spoke out her voice light but eyes serious.
“You better come visit”
“Duh- you won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.”
They both stood, half-laughing, half-lingering, until Naomi finally pulled her into a tight hug, not one of their usual playful ones, but something full and real and grounding. The bell jingled above them as they pushed the door open, the cool breeze brushing against their skin. “Get outta here Bunny,” she spoke waving her hand at Y/N dismissively,
“Go live your domestic dream.”
“Oh shut up” Y/N said, laughing.
“I’m serious!” Naomi added, “and you tell little mr ‘trust fund’ that if he breaks your heart, I’m showing up with my six-inch heels.”
“He won’t.” Y/N’s voice was soft but certain and Naomi looked at her, then nodded.
“Yeah. I don’t think he will either.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The late afternoon sun poured in through the wide windows of the country club, casting golden light across the polished marble floor. Outside, golfers milled about on the manicured green, their drinks in hand and voices drifting in through the open terrace doors. Inside, it was still pleasant, the weather having gotten warmer as the month progressed. It was quiet, the lull between lunch and dinner when the bar only saw the occasional regulars. Y/N stood behind it, restocking glasses with practiced ease. The air was soft with the scent of freshly cut lemon slices and citrus gin, the low murmur of conversation from a few older members huddled at a corner table the only background noise. She didn’t hear footsteps, but she felt it shift in the atmosphere when someone’s eyes were fixed on you. She straightened, turned toward the presence with a polite smile already in place. “What can I get you?” And then she saw who it was.
“…Oh.”
Her smile faltered just slightly.
“Hi- What can I get you?”
Sarah Cameron stood on the other side of the bar, hair pulled back into a loose pony tail, eyes steady on hers. There was no malice in them, just… something unreadable. For a moment Y/N wondered how Sarah had even managed to get in, she was pretty sure Rafe was the only Cameron with a membership.
“Can we talk?”
Sarah asked plainly, albeit a quiet sense of nervousness could be heard, and Y/N glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at the mostly empty bar. Only three patrons sat at the far end, half-watching the golf tournament on the mounted TV. “Well,” she said, brushing her hands on a bar towel,
“I’m kind of on the clock right now… but we can talk here.”
“Here’s fine.”
Y/N nodded once as she reached behind her and poured a glass of water, sliding it across the counter toward Sarah like a peace offering. Y/N reached for a dry towel, wiping it across a damp glass with smooth motion. It gave her something to do with her hands, something to focus on while Sarah settled into the stool opposite her. There was a pause, not awkward but thick with whatever Sarah had come here to say. Finally, the blonde girl across the counter spoke. “I, um…” Sarah cleared her throat, resting her elbows on the bar.
“I’m sorry. For showing up at the house like that. I wasn’t trying to… interrupt anything.”
Y/N gave a small dry laugh, her eyes still focused on the glass in her hands, “You didn’t interrupt anything.”
“Still,” Sarah pressed gently, “I wasn’t trying to catch you off guard. I didn’t know you and my brother were… you know.”
That made Y/N pause for a second, the rhythm of her hands slowing just slightly. “Yeah uh” she murmured, setting the glass down.
“It’s… recent.”
Sarah nodded, then twisted her fingers together on the bartop.
“I just— I didn’t mean to cause a thing with you and JJ. I didn’t know about any of that, I swear, and after the fight that night, I just kept thinking, like… if I hadn’t come by, maybe things wouldn’t’ve blown up like they did-”
“-Sarah.”
Y/N finally looked up, her face softening and she shook her head once, firmly.
“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment and the hum of the golf announcer on the TV drifted lazily in the background. Y/N busied her hands again, reaching for another glass, wiping it clean. Her voice was gentler now when she spoke again.
“Things were already tense with JJ… you just happened to walk in at the wrong time.”
Sarah’s brow furrowed slightly, guilt still resting behind her eyes, but she nodded slowly.
“I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it on purpose. I really didn’t know.”
Y/N gave her a faint, appreciative smile, “I know you didn’t.”
The quiet settled between them again like an unsure fog. Sarah fidgeted with the edge of a paper napkin from the counter, folding and unfolding it absently. Y/N had gone back to cleaning glasses, her movements smooth but just a touch too focused like she was trying not to feel the heat of Sarah’s gaze as she suddenly spoke,
"Y/N, my brother... he’s not exactly the type to-"
Y/N let out a short breath and cut in, her voice firm but not harsh, "Look, Sarah. If you're here to lecture me about Rafe, I really—" her eyes flicked up, guarded now,
"I really don't need that. Okay?"
Sarah opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but Y/N kept going.
"I get it. He’s your brother and you’ve seen him at his worst, but so have I.”
She stopped wiping the glass, placed it carefully on the drying mat, and rested both hands on the edge of the bar. Sarah hesitated, then leaned in just slightly, voice quieter now but still threaded with concern.
"I'm sorry but- it's Rafe. I've known him my whole life and he’s never been the type to help people, not unless there’s something in it for him. I’m just worried that maybe he sees you’re in a rough position and he’s just..." she trailed off not finishing the sentence and Y/N blinked slowly at her, jaw tightening. Then she shook her head. "Stop..." she exhaled, eyes flicking downward.
"Stop"
Her voice cracked just slightly as she pushed the towel aside and her shoulders dropped a little. “No one has helped me the past few months the way he has. No one.” Her eyes draw away from the counter to meet Sarah’s,
“He’s been there for me in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. I wouldn’t even be able to tell you because you wouldn’t believe me.”
Sarah’s expression softened at that and she watched her quietly for a beat, lips parted like she might speak. Then her voice came quieter than before,
“Yes I would...”
Y/N looked at Sarah for a long moment. And all she could see was a girl who was open, understanding. Someone who wanted to know the truth rather than take it away and further spin it into a web of lies. She let out a breath less defensive this time, “I finish my shift at seven today,” she murmured, glancing out the window where the afternoon sun was beginning to lower.
“Meet me outside by the staff car park and I’ll tell you everything.”
Sarah gave a small nod and Y/N turned, picked up the next glass.
The cool evening air wrapped around them as they stood outside the club, the faint hum of the island's nightlife carrying in the background. Y/N leaned against the brick wall, the weight of the conversation she was having heavy on her shoulders. Sarah stood beside her, silent, but there was an understanding in her posture now. She was quiet- the whole time. She didn't interrupt once, just listened, waiting for Y/N to speak, to unload everything she had been holding in.
Y/N took a long drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling into the air as she exhaled slowly. She raised her hand and offered it to Sarah, who smiled politely and shook her head. They stood silent for a moment, the quiet between them thick like the smoke rising from Y/N’s lips, but somehow it was comfortable. “No one knows this,” Y/N continued, her voice barely a whisper now.
“No one but me and Rafe… and now you.”
Sarah’s face softened with understanding, her eyes filled with empathy after having listened to Y/N, like a priest at confession. She exhaled slowly her words quiet,
“JJ is pretty mad at you,” Sarah said her voice careful but not accusatory, “I don’t think he understands why you’d—”
“-that’s not my problem anymore.”
Y/N cut her off, her tone sharper than she meant. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face in frustration before pursing her lips and shaking her head softly, speaking out,
“You heard what he said… ‘I’m not a Maybank.’ ”
She repeated the words, as if to remind herself just how much they stung. Sarah looked at her for a long moment, “It’s not that simple, Y/N. He’s hurting. JJ cares about you- more than he lets on. And he doesn’t know how to deal with this. I know it’s not easy, but I think you two need to talk.”
Y/N shook her head again, almost to herself this time. “I don’t know if I can. It’s not about JJ anymore. I can’t keep trying to fix things with him. I've been doing that for too long- I’ve always made sure he’s happy Sarah, but now… I think I should focus on what’s best for me.”
Sarah gave a small understanding nod, her eyes flickering down to the cigarette in Y/N’s hand, the older girl noticed, causing her to hold it up to her. Sarah took it, lifting it to her lips and taking a slow pull. The smoke lifting above the two of them like a small cloud.
“I get it. But I think you owe it to yourself to have that conversation with him to tell him what's really going on.”
Y/N exhaled slowly, sliding down the wall so she was crouching by the floor, tapping the cigarette ash onto the paving on the floor. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for that, but deep down, she knew it was something that needed to happen.
She owed it to herself
And to JJ
The quiet between them stretched on, thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The last of the cigarette smoke curled up into the night air, disappearing into the sky as if it was never even there. Y/N stared at the glowing ember on the floor beside her, the weight of everything she had just said settling deep inside her.
"I... I love your brother Sarah."
The words hung in the air as she suddenly spoke out, her voice trembling slightly, as if confessing it out loud to someone else except for him made it more real. Y/N didn’t look up. She couldn’t. Her eyes were fixed somewhere near the dark patch of pavement between her shoes, her heart thrumming beneath her ribs. Sarah’s expression softened, her eyes widening a little in surprise. She had never imagined hearing those words come from Y/N’s lips- not because she didn’t believe it but because she never thought anyone would be brave enough to admit that about him.
Her brother?
Sarah was silent as if trying to find the right words, but Y/N was too focused on the quiet to look at her. It wasn’t until Sarah’s voice broke the stillness that Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Sarah’s. “I think he loves you too,” Sarah said,
“From what I can tell... I think he loves you a lot.”
Y/N finally looked up at that and Sarah pushed off from where she’d been leaning and crouched down besides her, her back against the same wall now, their shoulders a few inches apart. She rested her arms over her bent knees, then looked sideways at Y/N who gave her a small, tired smile and Sarah, after a beat, said gently but plainly,
“But... I know JJ loves you too.”
Y/N’s smile faded, and she stared ahead for a beat, her throat tightening as she let out a breath through her nose. Sarah didn’t say anything after that, almost as though afraid she’d pushed too hard. The older girl whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost lost to in the cool breeze of the evening,
summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: only took me half a year to post x
warnings: SMUT!!!, angst, alcohol, mentions of drugs, heavy violence, mentions of past abuse (bruises ect), soft!rafe and Soft!bunny (they're so domestic)
The sunlight was soft when it filtered through the curtains of Rafe’s room, casting pale light over the walls and bed. Y/N stirred, her lashes fluttering open as her eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar light. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The sheets beneath her were expensive and smooth, not like the ones at home, or now what used to be home. Then her gaze drifted, and she saw him.
Rafe
Lying on his side, one arm slung carelessly over his torso, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His face, usually set in a smirk or a tense scowl, was soft in sleep, he looked peaceful.
Vulnerable even.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.
She stayed still just watching him, too afraid to move in fear of waking him. There was something painfully human about the way his lips were parted slightly in slumber. She remembered the way she’d slipped into his bed hours ago; quiet, hesitant and desperate for comfort. How she’d whispered “I love you too” to his sleeping back with her heart thudding so loud in her ears she was sure it would wake him up.
But he hadn’t stirred.
Now in the light of day, the weight of everything settled heavy on her chest. Her body ached from the bruises, from exhaustion but there was another ache too... a quieter one.
She shouldn’t be here.
He’d broken his promise. He'd told the one person she'd asked him not to her deepest most sacred secret and yet he came when she called.
Held her.
Helped her.
And even now dead asleep by her side he was giving her the only peace she’d known in days. She needed to breathe. To think. To be away from him for just a little while but even the idea of leaving the warmth of this bed sent a cold pang through her chest. Carefully, Y/N slipped back from him and rolled onto her side. The mattress dipped slightly as she moved but Rafe didn’t wake. She paused, watching him once more, her eyes lingering on the way the sunlight kissed his cheekbone, then she pushed the covers back and stood. Her bare feet hit the hardwood floor with a soft tap. She moved gently, trying not to make a sound as she crossed the room. Her hand brushed the doorframe on her way out. The hall was quiet the echoes of her footsteps felt loud in the silence, she padded down the stairs slowly, one hand trailing the banister.
In the kitchen, the early light spilled across the counters. She moved toward the sink, resting her hands on either side of it, gripping the edge like it might keep her steady. She didn’t cry- she’d done enough of that. But her chest rose and fell with a sharpness that lingered because here she was, in Rafe Cameron’s kitchen, in one of his T-shirts, with his scent still clinging to her skin and his care hanging in the air like smoke she couldn’t get rid of.
She didn’t know what to do.
So she did the one thing she did know how to do... provide.
Her hands moved on instinct, like her body remembered before her mind caught up. She opened the cabinets trying to figure out where things are, she found a boxed pancake mix shoved near the back of the top shelf and stood on her tip-toes to grab it. Then the fridge creaked open, humming low as she grabbed eggs, milk, and a pack of bacon. It was strange, how easily she fell into the rhythm of it. She cracked eggs into a glass bowl, the sound splitting the otherwise silent house. Her fingers whisked the yolks into a golden puddles and the sizzle of bacon followed not long after, curling in the pan as the smell filled the air.
She didn’t know why she was doing it.
Maybe it was habit?
Maybe it was all these years of survival. She flipped a pancake onto the griddle, her movements automatic now, and for a moment her mind drifted, pulling her back. Y/N smiled faintly, a tired little tug at the corner of her mouth as she stood over the stove, flipping another pancake. The bacon crackled beside her and the smell made her chest ache in a bittersweet way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Y/N, what’s that smell?”
A groggy voice called from the hallway of the home, the sound of feet padding against the floorboards following swiftly after. “Bacon,” she called back without looking up, standing on her tiptoes to reach the back burner.
“Don’t touch it!”
JJ, barefoot and messy-haired, shuffled into the kitchen like a zombie. He was still in the oversized T-shirt he wore to bed, the neckline too loose meaning on elf his shoulders was on the edge of slipping out, he rubbed one eye with the back of his hand. “Don’t touch what?” he asked, already grabbing a slice of bacon straight from the paper towel it was placed on.
“JJ!” she shrieked, swatting at him with the spatula. “You’re gonna burn your mouth are you crazy!”
“Worth it,” he mumbled between chews, grinning widely. She rolled her eyes a she shoves the last few rashers of bacon on to the pan looking over her shoulder to him, “Go do the pancakes if you wanna eat so bad.”
“Yes chef.”
He saluted lazily as he spoke. Of course, giving JJ pancake duty had been a mistake. The first one came out raw in the middle, gooey and sticky as he slapped it enthusiastically onto the plate. The second one, burnt to a crisp so badly it resembled charcoal.
The third?
Somehow both...?
By the time she turned around, the kitchen smelled like smoke, and he was fanning the pan with a paper plate.
“Seriously Jay?” she deadpanned trying to suppress a giggle as she snatched the spatula from his hand.
“Eh- I’m more of a bacon guy anyway”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rafe blinked against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, his brows furrowed in confusion as the scent of bacon reached him. It threaded through the halls, faint but enough to coax him from the comfort of his sheets. He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair and for a second his mind wandered to a dream he'd had- Y/N showing up at his door in the middle of the night, slipping into bed behind him, her arm wrapped around his waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. He raised his hand rubbing his eyes and blinking to focus his vision, then he looked over at the other side of the bed.
The sheets were slightly rumpled.
He got up.
The wood floor was cool under his bare feet as he walked toward the stairs. He didn’t rush but he didn’t even realise he was holding his breath until he reached the landing and heard the soft clatter of a pan being set in the sink.
And then he saw her.
Her back was facing towards him and she was standing at the stove in one of his T-shirts. She was plating breakfast like it was something she’d done a hundred times before; stack of golden pancakes was already layered onto two plates alongside scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. She moved carefully like she was still trying not to wake the house.
For a moment Rafe just stood there.
There was something about her face- calm and focused, her mouth pressed into a neutral line even though he knew her whole world had crumbled just hours ago. The night before was still etched into the bruises on her arms. He watched the curve of her cheek as she reached for a spatula, the small crease between her brows as she concentrated on stacking the pancakes just right. Her movements were so thoughtful. She looked like a woman trying to hold herself together with butter and the smell of bacon.
She turned, pan in one hand, and as she moved to the sink she froze mid-step eyes landing on him standing there, watching her. Her eyes widened, but only for a second. Then she looked down, fumbling slightly as she set the pan in the sink, her voice coming quiet and a little uneven, “...Oh. I, uh—” she cleared her throat and her eyes flicked to his for the briefest second before darting away again,
“I made you breakfast.”
Rafe just stood there, throat tight for another second before stepping further into the kitchen, barefoot on the tile, the morning light brushing across his shoulders. He moved slowly, like if he made a wrong move she might bolt, disappear all over again. His voice was soft when he spoke, a quiet rasp still dusted with sleep.
“Shouldn’t I be the one making you breakfast?”
She didn’t turn right away. Just stood there at the sink, fingers pressing into the edge of the counter like she needed something to ground her.
“I mean-” he added gently, “cause you're my guest and all...”
She exhaled a shaky little breath, then turned to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to his long enough for him to see the way her walls were trying to stay up. “Well,” she said, voice light but brittle,
“I didn’t know how else to thank you.”
Rafe’s brow softened as the words slipped past her lips,
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
She looked down at the plates then, the golden pancakes stacked perfectly, eggs fluffed just right, bacon crisped at the edges. It wasn’t as fancy as she first thought it was when she was making it, so undeniably a sense of doubt started to creep into the corner of her mind- did he think this was dumb? Did she make a mistake cooking all this in the first pla-
He reached out and took the plate she’d made for him.
“Thanks,” he said simply, “It looks great.”
The two of them sat at the kitchen island, forks clinking gently against ceramic plates. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable but at the same time it felt like they were both walking barefoot across something fragile. Y/N cut into her pancake slowly, eyes flicking down then across at Rafe for a moment before lowering again. Rafe took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. He glanced at her just once, then leaned back slightly in his chair.
“This is good”
He hummed mouth half-full. She didn’t lift her head, just gave a small nod, nudging a piece of bacon into the yolk of her egg before mumbling,
“You’ve got good produce.”
That made him let out a short laugh- dry and a little surprised. His fork scraped against the plate as he looked at her.
“Right- It’s the produce.”
“Hey, I’m being serious.”
She looked up then almost frowning. His grin deepened just slightly as he leaned his elbow on the counter, watching her with quiet amusement.
“Sure thing”
He replied, still warm and teasing. She didn’t smile, not really, but there was a subtle softening at the edge of her mouth. Just a flicker, but he noticed. The way she kept her movements controlled, like she was trying to convince herself she was okay or at least that she could pass for it. He saw through it but he didn’t push Instead, he played along and let her have this one bit of normal. Because if sitting here eating pancakes and talking about produce helped her feel even a little bit safe, then he’d keep pretending. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just nodded slowly as she ate. Then she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to her plate.
“I used to make breakfast for JJ,” she said after a pause, thumb brushing a syrup trail from the side of her plate. “Back when we were kids...”
Rafe stayed quiet, listening to her speak.
“He would always sleeping in late… but I’d still get up early, I don’t even know why. Habit, I guess.” She shrugged a little, then chuckled. “Used to put him on pancake duty sometimes just to make him help. But he’d burn every single one, every time. Like charcoal... and the fat ass would still eat them.”
Rafe smiled, soft and genuine.
“He used to steal all the bacon before I even finished cooking. I’d turn around and half the plate would be gone, and he’d be pretending to look innocent with bacon grease on his face.”
She went quiet for a second, staring down at the food on her plate. The memory had started sweet but the weight of the present hung heavy in the space between now and then. JJ wasn't stealing bacon anymore… he could barely look at her. Her throat tightened, and she looked away like she was suddenly embarrassed for sharing.
For letting him in.
His fork scraped softly across the plate as he reached for a piece of bacon and leaned back slightly on the stool, watching her without making it obvious. Rafe swirled a piece of egg around the plate, not really eating, more just pushing it around. His voice cut through the gentle clinking of cutlery, soft and unexpected.
“My mom used to make breakfast like this.”
She looked up, blinking. He wasn’t looking at her just sort of staring past her shoulder, through the window behind her into the gardens of the house. Then he shifted slightly looking away, fingers brushing the rim of his coffee mug.
“I used to eat breakfast with her in the mornings,” he murmured, “before school back when… she was still around.”
A quiet smile played at the edge of his mouth and Y/N’s gaze flicked to him, listening.
“She made these ‘healthy’ pancakes,” he continued, a small smile barely touching the edge of his mouth as he raised one hand making a little quotation mark. “She’d mash up whatever fruit was going soft. I never really liked fruit but I used to steal Sarah’s off her plate when she was little. Not even quiet about it and she’d be screaming that I took the best one even though they were all the same.”
That made Y/N huff gently through her nose in amusement.
“I used to lie and say it wasn’t me.” Rafe finally looked over at her, “My mom always knew it was me, every time” he said. “But she never got mad- she’d just… cut another pancake and slide it onto Sarah’s plate like it was nothing.”
His voice had gone distant, as if he could still see it. Like it lived in a corner of his mind he didn’t open very often. His eyes drew away from her as he glanced back down at his plate.
“I think she liked that we were all at the table. Together.”
Neither of them said anything for a long moment. He took a bite, chewing slowly and the girl opposite him mirrored the action as they ate in silence once more. From everything she’d ever overheard, his mom was one of those subjects people tiptoed around. Yet here he was retelling a part of his past which sounds like it happened yesterday instead of years ago. The scraping of the utensils on the porcelain plates came to a stop as the round dishes now lay empty from both sides. Rafe’s eyes flicked back to Y/N steadily but much softer than before. Like something unspoken had eased between them.
“I haven’t thought about that in a while,” he admitted, his thumb dragging along the edge of his napkin before he rubbed it against his jaw.
“I actually haven’t eaten a meal with someone like this in a long time…”
He glanced down again, folding his napkin in half, then setting his fork and knife neatly beside his empty plate. His coffee cup was almost drained, the last sip resting cool at the bottom and he picked it up looking down into the cup and then set it down again, almost like he didn’t want the moment to end.
“So… thank you,” he said quietly, the words sincere.
“This was nice.”
Y/N studied him, something loosening in her chest. She could see it clearly now- how genuine he was being. She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re welcome.”
Rafe shifted a little, leaned back on the seat. His hand dragged up over his buzzcut, fingers raking through the short strands in an almost nervous motion.
“You know, I uh… I think we could do this more often.”
“…What do you mean?”
She blinked, her hand frozen halfway to her coffee cup and he looked at her now more intentionally.
“Well,” he said, almost like he had to ease himself into it too, “if you stay here- we could do this every morning.”
Her fingers lowered her mug to the counter without taking a sip the ceramic clink loud in the silence. Her brows knit slightly, lips parting just enough to let the question slip through.
“Stay here?”
Rafe’s gaze held hers for a beat before he shook his head a little, as if sorting his own words out before he said them. As though debating if he should push the subject further.
“I don’t know if you remember, but when I came to pick you up yesterday you said—”
“-I said I had nowhere to go.”
She finished for him, the words tumbling out before his could, a small frown drawing her brows down. He paused, a little surprised at her firmness or maybe because she remembered it too.
“Yeah,” he said, “That’s what you said.”
There was a moment where the air seemed to shift so he continued speaking, slower this time,
“So… you can live here. For as long as you like.”
Y/N stared at him. Not in disbelief- though there was some of that circling her thoughts- but more in stunned silence, like her mind needed a minute to catch up with what her ears had just heard.
Live here?
She hadn’t expected that.
Not from him.
Not after what she’d said to him.
And yet his voice wasn’t teasing. His posture wasn’t guarded and she could tell he wasn’t saying it to manipulate her or trap her- because she’s seen that side of him before. He was just offering. Her eyes dropped for a second to her hands wrapped around her mug and she could feel her pulse in her fingertips. When she looked up again, Rafe was still watching her; evidently waiting. Her eyes lifted slowly, hesitant.
“I… I can’t.”
Rafe shifted slightly in his seat, setting his coffee down and leaning forward his forearms resting loosely on the kitchen island.
“Why not?”
“Because—”
Her voice faltered, her lips parting before pressing back together in a tight line. She dropped her gaze to the napkin next to her fingers and she began folding the edge over and over, like the motion might give her something to hold on to. Rafe just watched her patiently and after a moment, he tried again. “C’mon Y/N,” he said, his tone a little less sure.
“Why not?”
She swallowed hard, the napkin now twisted tight in her hands. “I just—” she said, shaking her head, more at herself than at him.
“I can’t, Rafe.”
He leaned back slightly, one hand curling over the back of his neck, rubbing it as though trying to ease something out of his spine. She exhaled hard through her nose, eyes still fixed on the napkin in her hands.
“I shouldn’t even be here right now.”
Rafe tilted his head at that, studying her moving so that his elbow braced against the counter.
“Where else would you be?”
She opened her mouth but nothing came out because the truth was- she didn’t know. She didn’t have a single answer to give. Her whole life, there had always been a place to fall back to, even if it wasn’t much of a home. At least it was a roof over her head and a door that locked. Even if the walls were thin and her father only let her stay because her money kept the lights on and the fridge full.
But now?
Now she had nothing.
No keys.
No door.
No place where she felt wanted.
And Rafe knew it.
His finger tapped against the cool marble of the counter then it stopped- he placed his palm down onto the stone, resting his weight onto his hands. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now,” he said, voice low. “You can just be here for as long as you want. No expectations or anything, no pressure just—” He paused, his jaw tightening as he scrubbed a hand across it trying to ease the tension.
“Just stay Y/N.”
Her fingers stilled on the napkin, pressing flat against the tissue as she slowly lifted her gaze. He wasn’t making some vague offer or dangling the idea out of guilt or pity. He was offering her space like he actually wanted her here.
It scared her.
But it also settled something deep in her chest.
“Just for a little while”
She said quietly and Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave hers as she spoke. He nodded once, the corner of his mouth twitching- not quite a smile, but close.
“Yeah- just for a little while.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The soft light of the morning filtered in through the guest room window, Y/N stood barefoot in the ensuite bathroom the counter cold beneath her fingertips as she braced herself in front of the mirror. She hadn’t brought anything with her when she left; no bag, no change of clothes, just her car keys, phone and whatever dignity she could scrape together after being thrown out like she was nothing. Now standing in front of a mirror that wasn’t hers in a house that wasn’t hers, she tugged on yesterday’s clothes- her work uniform crumpled from the night before. She exhaled through her nose, steadying her breath as she looked towards the mirror and tilted her chin just slightly.
There it was.
The edge of her jaw, yellow and purple and beginning to darken. The shape of her father’s hand still blooming across her skin like a quiet threat. Her eyes narrowed on it, shoulders tight as a he reached up and brushed a fingertip over the bruise featherlight, and still winced at the dull throbbing ache beneath it.
“Shit”
She murmured under her breath. She pulled her hand away and gripped the edge of the sink again, trying to push down the heat rising behind her eyes, she didn’t have time for this. She turned her head looking through the door toward the bedroom wall, catching the clock, Thirty minutes. That’s all she had before her shift started which meant thirty minutes to pull herself together, thirty minutes to figure out how to cover up the ugly bruise rising like a storm on her face. Y/N grabbed her cracked phone off the bed and scooped her shoes up in one hand, barely paying attention as she padded quietly down the stairs. The house was still warm with the scent of lingering coffee. She didn’t hear anyone… maybe Rafe had gone back to sleep.
She sat down on the bottom step, ducking her head as she slipped her shoes on. The fabric of her white polo was wrinkled and slightly smudged from when she'd been shoved hard onto the floor. The scuffs on her knees were visible and as she leant over to tie her laces she tried not to think about how raw the skin on her palms still felt. A voice called from behind her.
"Where are you going?"
She flinched just slightly, then turned her head.
Rafe was walking toward her from the hallway, brows drawn low in confusion. He leaned his shoulder against the opposite wall, arms folded across his chest as he looked her over- his gaze pausing at her crumpled uniform, then at her cheek which was not properly illuminated by the light spilling in through the windows by the front door. She looked back down quickly, pulling her second shoe tighter.
"I'm going to work," she muttered.
"Seriously?"
"Yes seriously, Rafe," she snapped, standing up quickly and brushing her hands over her polo crossing her arms now mirroring his stance.
"I have to go to work or I’ll get fired. I’ve already taken shifts off."
He stayed quiet for a second, then he let out a breath his voice low but sharp,
"You’re going to work in this… state?"
She frowned, eyebrows pulling together. "This state?" Her voice was flat, defensive. "What’s that supposed to mean?" He pushed off the wall stepping closer, "Jesus, Y/N.” Then, he gestured toward her-
“You’ve been beat black and blue. What do you mean, 'this state'? You’ve got a bruise on your cheek, both your knees are scuffed up — I mean, look at your palms." His voice softened a little there, but it didn’t lose its urgency. "They’re still raw." He shook his head.
"Why the hell are you going to work?"
Y/N sighed, a slow, deep breath that left her shoulders sagging just slightly. Not because she was backing down but because she knew he was speaking the truth. She sank back down onto the stairs with a quiet exhale, fingers knotting together in her lap.
“I can’t lose my job too.”
Rafe stood across from her arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. He looked down at her for a beat, and then said firmly,
“You’re not gonna lose your job for taking a day off.”
She let out a dry laugh, one without any humor. “You don’t get it.”
“I’m trying to—”
“No, you don’t understand Rafe.” She snapped, sharper now, lifting her head to meet his eyes. She cut herself off, jaw clenched as she searched for the right words.
“You’ve never had a shitty fucking manager who waits for you to mess up so they can make an example out of you,” she muttered, bitterly. “Never had coworkers who wouldn’t lift a finger to back you up because all they care about is their own paycheck. You’ve never had to beg to stay on the schedule, never had to swallow your pride just to keep the lights on. You’re your own boss- you don’t answer to anyone.”
Her words hung in the air and for once Rafe didn’t argue. His arms slowly dropped to his sides, and he nodded, he looked like he wanted to reach for her- but he didn’t. “You’re right…” he said finally, voice low.
“I don’t understand.”
There was no anger in it. Just honesty. And something else, too- frustration, maybe? Not at her, but at himself, at the fact that no matter how much he wanted to help he couldn’t change the life she came from.
Couldn’t erase it.
But then, he slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, already unlocking it. Y/N furrowed her brows.
“What are you doing?”
Rafe didn’t look up as he swiped across his screen. “Just making a call.”
“A call to who?” she asked, suspicion curling around her words.
He glanced at her, tone casual. “To get you a day off.”
“Rafe they’re not gonna give me a day off just because you ask nicely. That’s not how it works.”
Y/N let out a humourless laugh and he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face her fully,
“I don’t understand- I probably never will.”
She blinked, caught off guard by the sudden softness in his tone as he continued, “I am my own boss. I don’t answer to anyone- people answer to me so I might as well use that to make it easier for you.”
Her mouth parted slightly, the words caught somewhere between her chest and throat. Then, without another word, Rafe turned and started walking up the stairs, the phone already pressed to his ear. She heard his voice trailing through the open space, professional, as he disappeared down the hall toward the office. Y/N stayed where she was, shoes still half-laced, watching as he stepped into the room and pulled the door nearly shut behind him. She stared for a beat longer, then lowered her gaze, biting the inside of her cheek.
Part of her wanted to fight him on it.
The stubborn part.
The one that said she had to earn everything, prove she could handle it by herself. But the other part- the aching, tired, scuffed-up part- just wants to sit there in the quiet house, trying not to cry at the fact that someone was finally showing up for her. She pushed herself up from the bottom step, her muscles aching in quiet protest as she made her way upstairs. She padded softly down the hall, her footsteps barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. The office door was cracked just slightly open, and she paused there, resting her hands on the doorframe for balance, her fingers curling gently around the edge. Rafe stood near the window, his back to her, phone still to his ear.
“Yeah, that’s great. Pleasure speaking to you… what was your name again? Martin? Yeah... thanks so much have a good one.”
She watched as he slid the phone into his back pocket, shoulders rolling slightly as he turned around. His eyes lifting and landing on her. She was leaning there, half in the room, half still out in the hallway. Her eyes were watching him with that same mixture of stubbornness and something softer underneath.
Curiosity.
He turned towards her looking down to where she stood by the doorframe, before tipping his head towards the guest room.
“Go get changed”
She furrowed her brows. “…Why?”
“Because you’ve got the day off,” he said easily. “So go have a shower. Get changed. Sleep, if you want.” She blinked up at him before a small smile teased its way onto her lips.
“Have a shower… do I stink or something?”
“Didn’t say that.”
Rafe huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he bit back a smile. She looked at him as her eyes squinted a little in confusion,
“How… how did you even do that?”
He shrugged, arms folding across his chest like it was the simplest thing in the world.
“I’m Rafe Cameron.”
“Oh God.”
She rolled her eyes, but it was playful. He grinned, just a little and then she looked up at him again, and this time her voice was quieter.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shaking his head but she nodded slowly,
“Yeah I do Rafe.”
The way she said his name, like it meant something more than it used to, made something flicker behind his eyes. He didn’t say anything right away, just looked at her for a moment longer before stepping out of the office. “Go,” he said again, gently this time. But as she started to shift her weight off the doorframe, he added,
“I gotta head out for a few hours. Need to deal with something.”
“Are you sure you want me here? I can go—”
“Y/N”
He cut in, with a dry sort of tone, brows raised slightly like he couldn’t believe she even asked. She blinked, mouth shutting. “Right,” she murmured, ducking her head.
“Stupid question.”
“If you want to get changed, use my stuff… you know where my room is.”
Her eyes flicked up to his face at that just for a beat and then dropped again just as quick. She didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. The implication hung in the air thick like smoke: he knew. He knew she’d been in his bed last night, curled up by his side like she belonged there, like she had nowhere else to go and nothing left to lose. Then his voice cut through it.
“You good…?”
She cleared her throat, eyes still cast down. “Yeah- yeah. I’m good.”
He lingered a second longer, like he wasn’t quite sure whether to believe her then he just gave a small nod, turned and started down the hall. She stood there in the doorway for a long moment after he was gone, her fingers slowly loosening their grip on the wood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She lay back against the comforter her damp hair leaving little imprints on the pillowcase, the towel wrapped snug around her body the only thing keeping her warm. Sunlight drifted in through the sheer curtains casting soft lines across the guest bed but her mind felt far from calm. Her fingers curled over the edge of her towel as she stared up at the ceiling. Rafe had been gone maybe an hour, maybe two. She wasn’t sure. The minutes bled together when she wasn’t doing anything.
All she could think about was him.
How he’d stood there this morning his arms crossed but voice steady, doing everything he could to help her without pushing too hard. How he’d made that call like it was nothing. How he hadn’t even flinched when she snapped back at him but he just… took it. Even after what she said to him, after he’d told her he loved her and she couldn’t even look at him properly.
“Don’t say shit like that.”
“I don’t want to talk to you, okay?”
“Stop.”
“I can’t do this with you, Rafe. I just can’t.”
“Just let me go home.”
Her stomach turned.
Why the hell was he being so good to her?
She’d left him in that parking lot. Walked away like he hadn’t just stood there with his heart in his hands... like she hadn’t felt it too. And now- now she was here in his house, sleeping in his bed, borrowing his clothes, letting him take care of her like she hadn’t made him feel like a fucking idiot for caring. She shifted slightly, one arm coming up to rest across her forehead.
He should be pissed at her.
Or cold towards her
Or done with her
Instead, he was so gentle with her, like she hadn’t tried to shut the door in his face and maybe that was what made her chest ache the most. Not the bruise swelling on her cheek or the scabbing on her palms but the fact that Rafe Cameron still wanted her around, even when she was at her worst. Even when she didn’t feel worth anything. She exhaled through her nose her eyes fluttering shut.
She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this version of him but a part of her, the one that has been bruised long before last night, kept wondering if she’d ever feel safe trusting someone like this again.
Still, she was here.
The vibration startled her, her phone buzzing against the wood of the bedside drawer breaking the silence. Y/N blinked slowly, pulling herself out of the spiral in her head as she reached over and tugged the towel tighter around her chest.
Sof : hey where are you? :(
Sof : is everything okay???
She stared at the screen for a beat, teeth sinking into her lower lip. Jesus, what was she even supposed to say? Her thumbs hovered then slowly she started typing.
Y/N : yeah just dealing with some shit rn
Sof : what’s going on?
Y/N : my dad kicked me out yesterday
The reply was almost instant.
Sof : what?
Sof : he kicked you out what do you mean
Y/N : he found out.
The typing bubble from Sofia appeared, then disappeared. Finally her reply slid onto the screen.
Sof : the pregnancy?
Y/N : no
Y/N : about the strip club
Sof : Jesus
Sof : I’m so sorry my love
Y/N : don’t be it’s not your fault.
Sof : why didn’t you call me?
Y/N sighed softly resting her head against the headboard as her thumbs began moving against the screen again.
Y/N : it was really late sof and ik you had a morning shift today
Sof : are you hurt?
Sof : is that why you’re not in?
Y/N : something like that
Sof : do you need me to come help you
Y/N : no no don’t do that I’m fine.
There was a legnthy pause between their messages. Then the phone buzzed once more and a message that made her heart skip appeared on the small glowing screen.
Sof : if he’s kicked you out where are you right now?
Y/N stared at the screen
Shit
She could already hear Sofia’s voice in her head- the hesitation, the concern, because Sofia knew everything and she also knew that Rafe Cameron was the last person Y/N said she’d ever want to lean on again. The girl dragged her bottom lip between her teeth and stared down at the blinking cursor in her message box.
Y/N : I’m safe I promise.
But she didn’t press send just yet because safe in this case didn’t mean simple. So Y/N took a breath, eyes lingering on the last message and she deleted it before she started typing again.
Y/N : I’m safe I promise.
Y/N : I’m staying with a friend.
Sofia : right
Sof : and that is?
Her heart thudded a little harder in her chest and she hesitated as she chewed at the inside of her cheek then typed:
Y/N : you don’t know him
Sof : cut the bs Y/N
Sof : where are you
Y/N : I’m staying with Rafe.
The screen stayed still.
No typing bubble.
No message.
Y/N sat up a little her grip tightening slightly around the towel wrapped around her. Her phone remained still in her hand the seconds stretching.
Then—
Sof : Cameron
Y/N : yeah
She could feel it- the way Sofia was probably sitting there, trying to come up with something that wasn’t just “what the fuck”-
Sof : What the fuck
Spoke too soon
Sof : I'm sorry what
Sof : are you being serious with me
Y/N : yes
Sof : what the hell what are you doing at his place Y/N
Sof : does he even know about what’s going on or…?
Y/N exhaled fingers moving quickly now;
Y/N : I called him last night after it happened
Y/N : I panicked Sof I didn’t know who to call
Sof : he picked up?
Y/N : yeah he did
Y/N : he came to pick me up and brought me back here
Y/N : he’s even offered me a place to stay
This time Sofia took a minute to responce,
Sof : wow
Sof : is he being genuine?
Y/N stared at the question for a moment.
Y/N : I think so
She could picture Sofia on the other end of the phone sitting in the tiny country club break room, probably hunched over her phone with her brows furrowed, biting at her cuticles- even though Y/N always tried to break her outof the habbit.
Sof : Y/N you told me yesterday you wanted nothing to do with him...
Y/N : I know Sof I’ve thought about it
Sof : have you now
Y/N : Jesus Sof I don't know what to do
Y/N : I know I was mad at him I was so fucking mad at him and upset and dissapointed but now I just dont know he's been so good to me
Y/N : so good
Y/N : and as much as I want to stay mad at him I can't beacause I think I'm in love with him
Sof : you love him?
Y/N : Yeah
Y/N : well
Y/N : I don’t know
Y/N : I’ve never felt like this before and I know he’s an been an asshole but I just don’t know anymore.
Sof : He picked you up in the middle of the night after you said you never wanted to see him again and now he's letting you stay with him
Sof : You really think he’d do all that if he didn’t care?
Sof : You know guys like him don’t just do stuff like that for anyone
Y/N : I know
Y/N stared at the screen.
Sof : If I had to take a guess
Sof : I’d say he loves you too
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The black Range Rover cut hard into the dirt driveway outside Barry’s trailer, tires kicking up dust as Rafe slammed the door shut behind him. His eyes were sharp as he strode toward the trailer where Barry was crouched by his dirt bike, tools scattered around him. Barry looked up, a slow smirk forming as he let out a low whistle as he drawled out, wiping grease off his hands.
“Who’s got your panties in a twist cuz?”
“What do you know about Luke Maybank?”
Rafe didn’t waste time as he spoke back only for Barry to shrug without looking up, a careless expression on his face, “Shi’ man. All I know is he likes his ambien- dat’s 'bout it.”
“I need his address.”
He scoffed running a hand over his buzz cut clearly not satisfied with the answer he got and Barry chuckled shaking his head.
“You think I’m sum secretary or somethin’? Don’t know where he lives.”
The frustration hit Rafe hard, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like his teeth might grind together and shatter. Suddenly, he spun around abruptly, slamming his palm down on the white plastic table outside the trailer. The table vibrated sharply; a few empty beer bottles teetering and crashing to the ground. Rafe muttered through gritted teeth, the anger heavy in his voice.
“Fuck”
Barry stood straight now brushing his hands on a grease stained rag before tossing it carelessly onto the dirt bike. He cocked his head, eyes narrowing.
“Can you not trash my crib man?”
He said a clear note of warning under the teasing. Rafe didn’t answer right away his shoulders tense, fists still clenched at his sides. The he spun back around, the dead, dusted grass crunching under his shoes as he locked eyes on Barry and gestured a hand toward him.
“Call him- tell him you got a fresh stash.”
Barry blinked and leat back against his rusted trailer with a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. “Why the fuck would I do that?” Rafe took a couple of heavy steps forward the dry grass snapping underfoot.
“Cause I told you to?”
“What, you my boss now Rafe?”
Barry smirked, folding his arms and rocking on his heels. He let out a low, amused chuckle whilst running a hand over his hair pausing momentarily before his grin grew wider, eyes peering up with a sharp edge.
“This about your little bitch at the strip club, ain’t it?”
Rafe’s teeth ground together audibly as the words passed Barry’s lips and he caught the change in tension and let out a slow, knowing laugh.
“Shi’ man… you attached or what?”
Without warning Rafe lunged forward, grabbing Barry roughly by the red cotton of his top and yanking him close. The coarse fabric crumpled under his fingers as his voice dropped to a low growl, deadly serious.
“You’re gonna do it right fucking now, d’you hear me? You’re gonna call that piece of shit and tell him to come over here. Is that fucking clear?”
“ight, ight country club. I’ll do it- tranquillo.”
Barry’s hands shot up palms wide in surrender although still slightly amused by the ordeal as Rafe shoved him back hard enough to make him stumble slightly. He pulled out his cracked phone thumb already scrolling through his contacts as the acrid sun beat down on the two of them, his thumbs lazy typing out a message before pressing send. Then he leans back against the trailer, arms crossed as he shifts his weight. “So am I right... or what?” he says eyes looking Rafe up and down.
“What was her name again- Bunny right?”
Rafe lets out a dry chuckle rolling his eyes, “Y/N,” he replies. Barry shakes his head, clapping his hands together with a satisfied smirk.
“Well I ain’t wrong then am I?”
The tension in Rafe’s jaw relaxes just a bit and Barry gestures toward one of the beaten-up plastic chairs beside the trailer. He drops into it with a scrape of plastic on gravel, patting the empty chair across from him, “sit,” he says nodding. Rafe exhales slowly the tightness in his chest easing as he strides over and lowers himself into the chair. He runs a hand over his jaw, eyes flickering back to Barry as he leans forward, elbows on his knees,
“Why you so worked up man? You don’t lose your shit like this anymore.”
Rafe clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms for a moment before he looks up his voice rough. “He beat her up.” Barry blinks, momentarily serious. “Damn.” He shakes his head,
“...didn’t know your ‘little bunny’ had it that bad.”
Rafe exhales rubbing the back of his neck as he looks ahead of them, the tall trees swaying slightly in the afternoon breeze. The dirt crunches under Barry’s boots as he stands up,
“So what’s the play now? You gonna put that piece of shit in his place?”
“Yeah”
Rafe’s jaw tightens his eyes hard as flint and Barry watches as the kook pushed himself off the plastic chair, fingers tightening around his signet ring, the battered symbol of everything his fucked-up family’s ever stood for.
“He’s gonna fuckin' wish he’d never laid his hands on her.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dirt bike rattles to a stop in front of Barry’s trailer, kicking up a loose spray of gravel around it. Luke cuts the engine muttering a curse as he steadies himself; he’s clearly a little buzzed, one foot dragging as he dismounts the bike. Sweat clings to the collar of his shirt, his hair damp and his skin flushed. Barry doesn’t even glance up at first still crouched by the bike he’s been tuning, wiping his oil-slick fingers on a rag. “Maybank” Barry calls finally standing and stretching with a slight crack of his spine.
“I got your shit.”
Luke stumbles forward with a nod, already pulling crumpled bills from his front pocket. “Yeah- yeah great,” he mutters, squinting down as he tries to count them, licking his thumb with a hiccup of his drunken breath.
“How much again?”
Barry doesn’t answer, just stands there watching him, the stillness between them starting to stretch too long. Luke finally looks up. “What?” he mumbles irritably.
“Why’d you call me? You said you had a fresh stash right?”
Barry jerks his chin toward the busted lawn chair a few feet away. “Take a seat. Let’s talk.” Luke narrows his eyes,
“I’m good-”
“-sit down man.”
Barry’s voice sharpens and the man blinks at the tone- stiffer than he’s used to from the dealer. After a moment of hesitation he mutters something under his breath and sinks into the chair, the cracked plastic groaning under his weight. He leans back trying to look casual but there’s a crease forming between his brows now. Barry walks over to the dented metal cooler near the steps of his trailer and pops the lid, pulling out a beer he cracks it open with a hiss before taking a long, deliberate swig. He leans one shoulder against the nearby railing, watching Luke over the rim of the can.
Barry moves from the railing and drops lazily into the second chair not too far from Luke and stretches his legs out in front of him, beer bottle resting on his thigh, eyes not leaving the older man across from him. Luke shifts, sensing something’s off so he clears his throat and tries to play it casual.
“What do you uh- want Barry?”
Barry leans forward slightly, “Y’know… you been a customer a long time now.”
Luke bobs his head tapping his fingers anxiously on his thigh, “Yeah, yeah... I'm loyal.”
Barry looks like he’s about to say something else his mouth opening to speak but Luke cuts in sitting up a bit in his chair now, voice a little too eager.
“So since I’ve been loyal… think I could get somethin’ a little stronger tonight?”
“You want a bump?”
Barry snorts amused, head tilting to the side. Luke’s already reaching for his pocket, pulling out a crumple of bills and laying them down on the plastic table between them. He smooths them out quick and clumsy and then leans back expectantly. Barry just stares at the money.
Doesn’t reach for it.
Doesn’t even blink.
Then he laughs, right in Luke’s face.
“You think that’s enough?”
He asks, still chuckling. Luke shifts again licking his lips. “No, no—I know it’s not. I just… I’m a little tight right now, but I’ll get it to you. I swear.” Barry swirls the bottle in his hand, watching the foam rise to the neck before letting it settle.
“You ain’t got no money?”
“I do,” Luke insists, his voice pitching slightly.
“My daughter- she’ll give me some.”
Barry raises an eyebrow his gaze sharpening at the mention of the girl. “Your daughter huh?” Luke nods, a little too fast. “Yeah, I’ll find her. She- she’s probably at a friend’s or some shit like that...”
“You don’t know where she is?” Barry leans back the beer bottle resting against his bottom lip now, his expression unreadable as he watches the man. Luke’s lips part momentarily in a pause before words tumble past his lips again,
“No- I mean, yeah, I do. She ain’t home cause-”
“-Cause you kicked her out.”
The voice is ice-cold cutting across the humid, sticky air like a blade. Luke freezes mid-sentence, his eyes snapping to the side. Rafe stands at the bottom of the trailer steps, his arms crossed tight over his chest, biceps flexed under the sleeves of his t-shirt and his jaw sharp with tension. Luke’s face pales, blood draining from it like someone pulled a plug at the bottom of a bathtub.
“What the hell’s this?”
He mutters sitting forward his unease evidently rising. Barry, still in his chair, takes another lazy sip of beer like it’s just another evening on the Cut. Rafe doesn’t move, but his voice is low and controlled when he speaks again.
“Go on- Finish your sentence.”
Luke’s already rising from the chair, a confused scowl warping his face. “The fuck are you—”
But he doesn’t get to finish because Rafe’s on him in an instant, stepping forward and shoving both palms hard against his chest, slamming him back down into the seat with a crack of strain from the old plastic legs. The chair groans under the force, dirt crunching beneath it as it drags slightly from the impact. “Finish your sentence,” Rafe growls his voice a low snarl.
“Where’s your daughter huh?”
Luke shoves at his hands, trying to push himself up again. “I kicked her out,” he snaps back defiantly, his breath hot with stale beer. Rafe’s jaw flexes his lips curling into a humorless scoff. He paces back a step nodding like he needed to hear it said out loud. “Yeah, you did,” he says,
“You fucking kicked her out after you beat her black and blue.”
Luke's eyes narrow and his head swivels to Barry now, desperate, eyes darting. “What is this?” Barry shrugs, finally setting the empty beer bottle down on the table with a dull clink. He raises both palms, expression almost amused.
“Just here for the show.”
Luke’s barely processed what Barry's said when Rafe’s hand fists the front of his t-shirt and yanks him up out of the chair with one swift jerk. “Get the fuck up,” Rafe snaps, shoving him roughly out from behind the table. The plastic chair scrapes and topples with a clatter as Luke stumbles forward, catching himself on unsteady feet. The dirt kicks up around them, warm air thick with tension and dust. Luke turns back toward Rafe, fists half-raised, teeth gritted.
“You think you’re tough? Just cause she let you play hero for a night?”
Luke lets out this smug little scoff his head tilting as he sizes Rafe up like he’s suddenly got the upper hand, “Where’d you meet her?” His tone drips sarcasm, teeth flashing behind that alcohol-slicked grin. “High-end kook like you- look at the fuckin’ watch on your wrist.” His eyes flick down to the glinting Rolex hugging Rafe’s wrist, catching the sun.
“Yeah... you met her at that club didn’t you?”
Rafe doesn’t move but his jaw locks tight enough to snap bone. Luke only grins wider at Rafe's lack of response, emboldened by the silence. He steps closer his breath thick.
“What, you stuff a couple bills in her panties and now she’s lettin’ you fuck her huh?”
The next words are spit with venom, ugly and sharp.
“Cause she’s a slut-”
CRACK
Rafe’s fist connects with Luke’s jaw before the last word even finishes leaving his mouth. A sickening crunch fills the air as Luke’s head snaps to teh side and his body stumbles with it, knees buckling under the impact. Blood spatters from his lip instantly blooming red across his teeth and he drops with a thud. Rafe stands over him his chest heaving, fist still curled and twitching at his side. His knuckles are split blood already rising causing a red hue to spread across his skin. “I dare you to call her that again,” he spits out barely restrained.
“Fucking dare you.”
Luke groans as he pushes himself up, boots scraping through the dirt. He spits a thick string of blood from his mouth, the red splattering across the dry ground with a smack. Wiping the back of his hand across his split lip as he stares Rafe down, rage simmering just beneath the surface.
“She’s a slut”
He snarls, the word hurled like a weapon sharp and hateful.nRafe doesn’t blink his chest rising and falling and his neck taut. Luke smirks, that same cruel gleam in his eye.
“And you’re a dumbass for believing whatever little fantasy she’s feeding you.”
Rafe lunges.
The tension snaps as he crashes into Luke, fists flying. The force drives Luke back into the table with a loud bang, the plastic legs groaning before one buckles, sending it toppling sideways. Beer bottles roll into the dirt the glass clinking and cracking. However, Luke doesn’t stay down this time. He shoves Rafe off with a grunt his fist swinging up hard, landing a solid shot to Rafe’s ribs. A grunt tears from Rafe’s throat but he barely stumbles, surging back. He grabs Luke by the collar and slams him into the side of the trailer with a metallic clang, the whole structure rattling. Dust clouds the air and Luke grits out a laugh, even as blood runs from his nose.
“You fighting for some pussy?”
Rafe snarls, slamming Luke into the trailer wall again, the sound echoes through the yard. The older man barely has time to suck in a breath before Rafe’s fist crashes into his face again.
Once
Twice
Bone meets flesh with sick, brutal cracks. Luke crumples to the ground with a grunt, hitting the dirt hard. A cloud of dust kicks up around him, clinging to the blood smeared across his face but Rafe isn’t done.
Not even close
He drops down on top of him, knee pressing into Luke’s gut to pin him whilst one hand fists the front of his shirt as the other keeps swinging. Each hit is heavier than the last even though his knuckles are already split, blood spattering across Luke’s cheek, temple and the dirt below them. Luke’s arms flail weakly trying to cover his face but Rafe swats them aside like nothing. The sound of impact is wet and horrible, flesh on flesh, Luke’s nose is broken blood now pouring out freely soaking into his collar.
Barry stand and lets out a low whistle watching for a second before he moves. “Hey!” he finally shouts out, voice sharp and cutting as he moves forward.
“Enough”
But Rafe doesn’t stop, his shoulders are heaving and his body curled over like an animal, fist raised again.
“Rafe- Rafe! That’s enough, man!”
No response.
Rafe’s pupils are blown, teeth gritted, his fist hovers in the air, trembling. Barry steps closer, hands raised but firm.
“You’re gonna kill him.”
Rafe still doesn’t move.
“You kill him out here,” Barry says quieter now, but dead serious, “and you’re gonna fuck it up.”
There’s blood smeared down Rafe’s arm, dripping from the tips of his fingers. Luke’s barely conscious now his face a mangled mess of red and swelling. He lets out a low, wet groan but still Rafe’s fist doesn’t drop. His eyes flicker- still brutal- but something about what's been said finally cuts through the haze. His hand falls but not in a punch, instead limp at his side. He staggers back a little, breathing hard, staring down at what he’s done. His own chest rising and falling like he’s just run for miles. Barry exhales, stepping between them now, hand on Rafe’s shoulder.
“That’s enough man. You made your point.”
Rafe doesn’t stay backed off for long though.
His breath still ragged and his chest is heaving, he steps forward again rage still simmering under his skin and he leans down and grabs the front of Luke’s blood-soaked t-shirt, jerking him up off the dirt with one brutal yank. Luke lets out a pained groan, his head lolling to the side eyes dazed, blood running down from his nose and lip. His hands scrabble weakly at Rafe’s wrist. Rafe yanks him closer their faces inches apart his voice low,
“If you ever fucking touch her again... I’ll kill you.”
His knuckles go white from the pressure as he jerks Luke even closer nearly nose to nose. Luke’s trembling hand pushes faintly against Rafe’s forearm, a useless attempt to create space but Rafe doesn’t budge. His teeth are clenched so tightly the muscle in his jaw twitches uncomfortably as he spits out,
“I’ll fucking kill you - do you understand me?”
Luke wheezes, a grunt of pain caught in his throat- Rafe lets go, shoving him back down with a vicious force and Luke hits the dirt hard, coughing as dust kicks up around his body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The kitchen at Tannyhill was warm and the air was thick with the scent of roasted garlic and rosemary. Potatoes were crisping in the oven, their edges bubbling in a thin coat of butter and something rich simmered on the stove, a blend of slow-cooked vegetables and herbs filling the space with a mouthwatering aroma. Y/N stood at the counter, dish towel slung over her shoulder, she was almost done, potatoes ready to be turned and veggies needing one last stir. The front door opening then closing echoed in the walls of the house. She froze. Her hand hovered over the tray and her eyes cut towards the hall.
“…Rafe?”
Silence.
Her heart climbed a little higher in her chest.
What if—
“Yeah- it’s me.”
His voice- unmistakable- rang out and relief spilled out of her lungs all at once. She turned back to the tray, nudging the potatoes back into place with the spatula before plating them up. She wiped her palms on the kitchen towel, then reached for the spoon, giving the vegetables a slow, steady stir as her nerves settled. She the oven door open, a soft whoosh of heat rushing out and bent carefully, lifting out the roasted chicken, skin golden and crisped to perfection. Placing it gently onto a serving plate she then carried it over to the kitchen island. Behind her, she heard footsteps across the wood floor.
Rafe appeared in the doorway, drying his hands on a towel he’d clearly snagged from the bathroom. His sleeves were pushed up, knuckles still red and swollen. His eyes swept over the spread on the table before settling on her. He asked with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth,
“What’s this?”
“I made you dinner…”
She said, not quite looking at him as she checked the vegetables one last time. Rafe let out a quiet huff shaking his head.
“I told you to rest.”
“I did rest,” she replied lightly, glancing over her shoulder with a small teasing smile.
“But then I got bored.”
He let out a low chuckle, the sound deep and warm. “You’re unreal,” he muttered as he stepped over to the cabinets, pulling down two plates and grabbing cutlery. “Come sit,” she said,
“It’s pretty much ready.”
“Did you even sit down?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes I did,”
She insisted with a playful bite to her voice, watching him now as he moved around the kitchen, that ease which once used to be between them coming back like muscle memory. He turned to look at her then, closer now, and the playful air dimmed just slightly as his eyes dropped to the bruise blooming on her cheek. Without a word he lifted his hand his fingers brushing lightly along the edge of the fading mark. The color was ugly- yellowing, tinged with green and purple- but healing.
“How’s your cheek?”
He asked quietly, his hand hovering, not quite ready to pull away. She gave a small shrug at his question.
“It’s okay... could be worse.”
Rafe let out a hum at that, not agreement but in not comfort either. It was low and heavy, edged with something like dissatisfaction. Anger still smoldering under the surface of his skin. His thumb lingered just a second longer before he finally lowered his hand, jaw tight as he looked at her. She met his gaze then she blinked it away.“C’mon,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder.
“Sit down. Food’s gonna get cold.”
Rafe nodded, settling opposite her at the kitchen island and he glanced over the food laid out in front of him; roasted chicken, golden potatoes, vegetables glistening in olive oil and herbs. It looked like something out of one of those fancy food magazines. He exhaled a low breath, eyes still moving across the spread.
“… how long have you been here?”
“Not that long,” she said, brushing it off with a shrug, already reaching for the serving spoon. “Here.” She started plating food for him, giving him the best cut of chicken without even thinking twice about it. The way she moved, confident and familiar, it twisted something in his chest. He watched her plate up his food like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And for a second…his mind drifted.
To this.
To every night being like this. Her in the kitchen, his clothes over her frame, the smell of dinner filling the air. Him walking through the door to her, not some silent, cold and empty house. He imagined reaching for a beer from the fridge while she set the table, her rolling her eyes when he tried to sneak a bite before dinner. Her laughing at him… him kissing her forehead… maybe her hand resting on her rounded belly-
His thoughts twitched
"You’re a dumbass for believing whatever little fantasy she’s feeding you."
The words came back to him like static in his skull. Luke's voice, slimy and cruel, but still sharp enough to pierce straight through him. The truth of it tasted sour in his mouth because maybe he was a dumbass. Maybe this; this dinner, this warmth, this imagined life with her- it was all just some fantasy.
A lie he’d dressed up with hope.
She’d told him herself, hadn’t she?
“I can’t do this with you, Rafe.”
Right there in the parking lot, her voice shaking as she said it. He blinked hard, the heat from the food in front of him suddenly doing nothing to warm the cold pit in his stomach. His jaw clenched, breath caught shallow in his throat as she turned and handed him a fork with a soft, distracted smile.
“Thanks”
The rhythmic scrape of forks against ceramic was the only real sound between them for a while. Y/N let out a soft hum as she reached for her glass of water, the condensation cooling her fingers. After a sip, she glanced at him her voice light but laced with uncertainty.
“Is it okay…?”
Rafe didn’t answer right away, finishing his bite and swallowing as he nodded, licking a bit of sauce off his thumb. “S’more than okay,” he said,
“Where’d you learn to cook like this?”
“I worked as kitchen staff in the country club for a bit… learnt a thing or two”
“Yeah no shit… I can't remember the last time I had a home-cooked dinner like this...”
A small smile tugged at her lips and she looked down at her plate, shifting the chicken around absently with her fork, her stomach feeling warm not just from the food she’d consumed but from the knowledge he was enjoying it- that he was satisfied. But before she could relish in the feeling longer her appetite was suddenly curling away from her.
She had to tell him.
She could feel it pressing at her chest, that need to speak, to get it out of her before it dissolved into fear again.
He had to know how she really felt.
He had to.
Her eyes lifted, ready to finally say something- but then her words caught in her throat as her brows furrowed.
“What happened to your hands…?”
Her gaze had landed on his knuckles- raw, red and already blooming with deep bruises. The skin was split on one, crusted with dried blood. The smile faded from her lips as she set her fork down, the soft clink echoing sharper than expected. “Rafe,” she said again this time lower.
“What did you do?”
He didn’t answer right away, just reached for his glass, like he could find something at the bottom of it to help him lie. Rafe let out a sigh, set the glass down with a dull thud. “Nothing,” he said quickly. Too quickly. A shrug followed, like he was trying to brush it off before he repeated himself,
“Nothing.”
Y/N set her cutlery down, the clink sharp in the now tense space between them.
“Don’t lie to me.”
Her brows were pinched, eyes sharp as they searched his face. She knew him, knew when he was bluffing. He held her gaze for a second, jaw tight.
“S’not something you need to worry about.”
“I am worrying about it just answer my questi-”
“It’s nothing to do with you. Let it go”
Before he could say anything else, she pushed herself back from the kitchen island, the legs of her stool scraping against the floor.
“Y/N- wait. Where are you going?”
She was already walking toward the double doors at the front of the house, her bare feet silent against the tile. Her chest was tight with that mix of concern and dread she couldn’t quite name.
“Hey- hey-”
Rafe stepped forward, catching her wrist, turning her around. She pulled it back instantly. His shoulders dropped, “Just—wait,” he breathed.
“I’ll explain.”
She stood her ground, arms crossing over her chest like an armour. Rafe’s hand moved to his face dragging down the length of it like it hurt to even begin to explain. He swept a hand over his buzzed hair, then rested it on the back of his neck. “Can you…” He sighed,
“Can you just come sit down… -please?”
She hesitated for a second, heart in her throat, then gave the smallest nod and followed him back to the kitchen island. The chair scraped softly as she slid back into it and her eyes didn’t leave him. Not once. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap beneath the counter where he wouldn’t notice. Rafe stayed standing for a moment, pacing slightly, like he didn’t know where to begin. Then he dropped into the seat beside her with a heavy exhale. His voice was low,
“I saw your dad.”
The words hit her like a slap. Her entire body stilled, her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat. She stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted but no sound came. When she finally managed it, her voice was barely above a whisper.
“…what?”
He looked at her, regret flashing across his face, but he didn’t take it back. “I saw him,” he said again, “tonight.” She shook her head slowly like she was trying to rewind time, like maybe she’d misheard him. Her voice broke off before the sentence could form.
“Why—why would you…?”
“Because he put his hands on you and no one gets to do that.”
Her lips pressed into a tight line. She blinked quickly, trying to process it all at once, but it was like the air had thickened around her and it made her throat burn. An odd feeling curled in her stomach- hard to name. At first, she thought it might’ve been anger or maybe dread. Creeping in like it always did when her father was brought up but as she sat there, staring at Rafe, something shifted.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t even sadness.
It was something… unfamiliar.
It was the first time anyone had ever stood up to him for her.
Not just talked back, not just muttered under their breath about how he was a piece of shit when he wasn’t around but really stood up- to his face.
For her.
And it did something to her. Broke something open maybe. This quiet, aching part of her that has lived so long in fear that she forgot what it felt like to be protected, to feel worth protecting. Her eyes burned, and she blinked a few times to fight it off, jaw tightening slightly. She looked at Rafe again; his busted knuckles, his face drawn tight with nerves, with guilt but not regret.
Rafe watched her quietly. She hadn’t said a word since he told her just sat there, eyes wide and a little glassy, like her mind had drifted somewhere else. He shifted on his feet, uneasy.
“Are you… angry at me?”
Her eyes snapped up to his, and she shook her head fast, the word cracking in her throat.
“No- no. I’m not angry at you. Why would I be?”
He nodded slowly, lips pressing into a thin line but something in him still didn’t settle. He pushed himself up from the chair he’d sat in momentarily and stepped towards her. She looked up at him as he came to stand in front of her. Her eyes caught the bruising on his knuckles again, but this time, she didn’t ask. Her breath just stilled in her chest. Rafe’s hand lifted, careful and slow, his fingers brushed over her cheek once more, the pad of his thumb soft against the bruise blooming along her skin. The touch made her eyes flutter for a second. “I promise,” he murmured, voice low and sure.
“He’ll never lay his hands on you again.”
She looked up at him slowly, voice barely a whisper.
“Why did you do it?”
Rafe doesn’t answer right away, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he breathes out slowly, eyes fixed on her face.
“Because no one else was going to.”
His voice is quiet but firm, like the words have lived in his chest for too long. She gazes up at him, stunned by the rawness in his tone, still trying to process the way her stomach twists, not in anger but something else entirely. And then, before he can stop himself he speaks out
“Because I care about you.”
The words tumble out, unpolished and exposed and he flinches like maybe he didn’t mean to say them aloud. Yet he doesn’t take them back, only watches her anticipating her response. Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek, brow pulling ever so slightly.
“You’re not supposed to...”
His head dips slightly, a scoff of disbelief escaping as he rubs a hand over his chin.
“I can’t help myself Y/N.”
His eyes meet hers again, desperation now barely hidden behind his voice.
“I know what you said to me, okay? I know you don’t want this, that you think this thing between us is too fucked up or too complicated, but I-” He swallows,
“I can’t ignore it- I tried.”
He exhales roughly.
“When I think about you going back to him, to that house, and I think about the way you looked last night-”his voice falters for a second, almost breaking.
“I can’t pretend I don’t feel something. Not when it’s this strong.”
She bites her lip, the pressure of it grounding her, holding back everything she’s been too scared to say. But it doesn’t matter even if she were to bite her lip raw, the truth is clawing its way out of her chest, demanding to be heard. Her voice comes quieter than before, nearly a whisper.
“I came into your room last night.”
The words settle between them and Rafe doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink at first. Then his brows pull together, a subtle shift in his expression.
“I know…” he says, “I noticed the sheets this morning.”
There’s no accusation in his tone, more like something that feels a lot like hope. She nods, a small, almost nervous motion. Her fingers twist together in her lap. “I—” She hesitates, breath catching.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Rafe says nothing. Just watches her, eyes scanning her face like he’s trying to memorize every detail. Like he’s trying to figure out what exactly she’s trying to tell him as her eyes are glassy and her voice barely holding together.
“I couldn’t close my eyes all night but after ten minutes with you I fell asleep because I didn’t feel so- alone. When I’m with you I don’t feel alone...”
And there it is, the truth, trembling and delicate in the space between them. Rafe’s chest rises with a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His hand rests flat on the edge of the kitchen island, fingers lightly curled, like he’s anchoring himself there, like if he moves even a little the whole moment might shatter.
And her eyes drop to it.
Her breath hitches as her hand slowly lifts from her lap, fingers trembling faintly as she reaches out- barely brushing her fingertips against his. A ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make his hand twitch beneath hers, his fingers turning instinctively to meet the contact. She keeps her gaze down. Her voice comes soft, almost like she’s afraid to speak too loudly and ruin it.
“I don’t know how to stop thinking about you.”
He doesn’t move.
“No matter what I’m doing, my mind just… finds its way back to you.”
She swallows, her fingers pressing a little firmer into his now, her thumb grazing over one of his bruised knuckles.
“And it scares me... because I’ve never felt like this before. Not with anyone.”
The silence thickens, but not in a bad way. She lifts her gaze finally, looking up at him through lashes damp with emotion.
“I don’t know when it started. I just know I can’t function without you anymore. And I know that I told you I couldn’t do this- but I didn’t mean it. I was scared. I still am. But not of you.” Her voice breaks, but she keeps going, the words tumbling out, ragged and honest.
“I’m scared of how much I feel for you but I’m more scared of pretending it’s not real.”
Her hand is fully wrapped around his now, and Rafe hasn’t said a word. He’s just looking at her like she hung the stars, like this is the first time in his life someone has ever said they need him and meant it. Finally, he lets out barely a whisper,
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“That you feel something for me.”
“I feel everything for you Rafe.”
She rises slowly from the stool, the scrape of wood against tile quiet beneath the heaviness in the room. Now, standing in front of him, she’s close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin, close enough to see the way his chest rises and falls a little unevenly. Rafe’s eyes flicker, from her eyes to her lips and back again. Her hand is still on his, their fingers tangled now and her other hand lifts gently, brushing against his arm. He doesn’t speak, he can’t seem to find the voice in his throat to say anything. So she does, her voice quiet but steady.
“I love you Rafe.”
The words feel too big for the air between them and his eyes close for just a beat like the words hit something deep in him he wasn’t ready for but needed all the same. When they open again, they’re glassy but locked on hers.
“Say it again.”
She steps even closer, her breath brushing his chin now.
“I love you.”
And that’s all it takes, he leans down slowly, giving her the chance to move away, but she doesn’t. Her hand slides up, fingers curling around the nape of his neck, and his free hand lifts to her waist. Their lips meet in a kiss that’s soft at first, like both of them are scared they’ll wake up and this will all disappear. But it deepens with every second- slow and aching and full of everything they’ve been too scared to say, everything that’s been building in the silence. When they finally part, just barely, their foreheads rest together, both of them breathless. Rafe’s voice is a whisper,
"You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he murmurs, his forehead still pressed to hers, his breath brushing over her skin. Then right before he leans down again he adds,
“Not with me.”
He catches her lips in another kiss, this one deeper, and she nods into him, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting softly against his as her hand curls around the back of his neck and her other drifts to his jaw, like she needs every part of him under her touch. Their bodies stay close, pressed together, and before she realises he’s moving them- walking them slowly through the kitchen his lips never leaving hers. He speaks between kisses, voice low and earnest against her mouth.
“Gonna give you everything you’ve ever wanted…”
She follows his lead, the heat of his hands anchoring her, the soft rhythm of their mouths like a slow dance. Her thumb brushes under his ear as he mutters again, lips ghosting over hers,
“Nothings gonna hurt you baby.”
Then her skin hits the cool edge of the leather couch behind her knees and he gently guides her down onto it. She sinks into the cushions, pulling him down with her, her hands still holding onto him like she can’t bear to let go. He settles over her his body not a heavy weight but rather wrapping around her like a shield, warm and safe. Between soft, slow kisses, he whispers the words that unravel something deep inside her,
“I love you.”
Not rushed this time. Not desperate. Just sure, the kind of love that’s been living in his chest far longer than he’s been willing to admit. Her breath catches, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes as her lips brush his one more time, and this time there’s no fear in her. The only sound shared between them is the soft rhythm of their breaths and the tender press of their lips.
His hand is cradling her jaw, his thumb brushing beneath her cheekbone with infinite care and then slowly it drifts downward. He kisses her again, a little slower this time, as his fingers slip beneath the hem of her T-shirt. She breathes out just barely against his mouth, not out of surprise but at the warmth of his hand resting against the bare skin of her waist.
His touch is featherlight and he doesn’t rush it. His thumb makes slow, smoothing circles over her skin, like he’s memorizing the shape of her; every curve, every shiver, every quiet breath she gives him.
She melts into him with a sigh, her fingers curling a little tighter into the material the back of his shirt. Her heart is racing- not from nerves, but from the way he’s touching her like she’s something sacred. He pulls back just a little to look at her, eyes dark and soft all at once.
“You okay?”
He asks and she nods, her breath shaky. “I’m okay,” she says, lips brushing his.
“I’m more than okay.”
Her hands move to his chest now, her fingertips skimming over the fabric of his shirt like she wants to feel the beat of his heart beneath it. And when he leans down to kiss her again, his thumb still tracing slow circles into her side, she arches just slightly into his touch- wanting to be closer.
Needing it.
The couch creaks beneath them as they shift, bodies fitting together like pieces meant to find one another.
Her fingers, once gently clutching the collar of his shirt, start to slide down skimming over the front of his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating hard beneath the fabric. The heat between them has shifted now, not frantic but more heady. She tugs lightly at the hem of his shirt, her breath still mingling with his, lips barely an inch apart.
"Take it off"
She whispers, the words a soft request against his mouth and his eyes open to meet hers.
"You sure?"
He murmurs, voice rough his forehead brushing gently against hers again and she nods, eyes never leaving his.
"I want you to… I want this. With you."
He leans back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind them without looking. Her breath hitches but it's not his shirtless form that leaves her breathless but the dark bruise blooming across his ribcage, purpling the skin in angry shades. Her breath hitches and without thinking her hand lifts, fingertips ghosting carefully over the mark.
“Jesus Rafe…”
He glances down like he forgot it was there then shrugs slightly brushing it off with a quiet,
“It’s nothing...”
But she doesn’t pull her hand away, her palm settles gently against his bruised side grounding both of them and she looks up at him- her gaze soft and almost- guilty. “No,” she whispers, shaking her head slightly.
“It’s not nothing.”
Rafe watches her, his chest rising and falling slowly with her touch and he reaches out placing his palm over her hand which rests upon the bruise, slowly dragging it up to rest it over his pounding heartbeat murmuring out to her,
“I’d do it a million times again if it means you’re safe.”
And something in her cracks open. Her brows pull together, eyes glassy as she leans in to kiss him again- deeper- like she’s trying to pour every unspoken thing into that moment. He’s reaching for her again his hands finding her sides, skin against skin, and his touch feels like warmth and safety and everything she didn’t know she was craving. Her fingers trail down his chest to reach for the hem of her own top, pulling it over her head and dropping it by the edge of the couch, her palms flattening against his bare chest as she arches into him just a little and she's whispering to him,
“Take it off”
Her hands lead his up her body, finding the strap of her bra where it rests along her shoulder. She glances up at him and he nods like he’s honoured she asked. He shifts gently, easing his weight off of her just enough to slip his hand behind her back, fingers carefully finding the clasp. It takes him a second for the tension to loosen, the band loosening around her ribs. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, and as he pulls the straps down her arms, her eyes never leave his face. He doesn’t look away, not even for a second. Once her bra comes off he lets his eyes trace every inch of her like the sight of her has left him stunned.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so long...”
A soft breath catches in her throat at his confession and her fingers find his face again, stroking gently along his jaw as his face dips down again his lips leaving a soft trail of kisses down her neck, scattering them across her skin like a bed of wildflowers in a field.
Her breath hitched and her hand slipped up to the back of his head as he kissed down her sternum- carefully worshiping the valley between her breast before he paused, eyes flickering up to look at her in quiet questioning. She released her tender bottom lip which was caught between her teeth nodding slightly. Before she could say anything else a soft hum passed her lips as his own closed around her breast, tongue gliding over her peaked nipple carefully waiting for her reaction. Her thighs widened slightly letting his body slot into place comfortably between her legs. His mouth worked against her, tongue languidly dragging across the sensitive skin whilst his other hand reached up, rolling her sensitive bud between his fingers causing her to let out a soft breathy call of his name. His hand trailed down the soft line of her body, fingertips pausing right at the waistband of the sweatpants she’d borrowed from him and his fingers toy with the hem, not pushing forward, just resting there. He lifted his gaze from her body back to her face, searching.
“We don’t have to do this today”
He said his voice low and sincere and she blinked at him before a teasing smile curved at the corner of her lips.
“I thought you said you’ve been waiting for this hmm?”
He let out an amused huff shaking his head,
“You make me sound like a perv.”
She laughed, a melodic sound that slipped into his chest and settled near his heart. “You kinda are,” she teased gently, running a hand over his hair. He sobered slightly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face before murmuring,
“I don’t want it to seem like I’m taking advantage of you.”
Her smile softened, and she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “You’re not,” she said honestly.
“I want to do this with you Rafe.”
He stared at her, thumb brushing along her knuckles as though still trying to convince himself this was real.
“Are you sure-”
“-take my pants off before I change my mind.”
She cut him off with a dramatic sigh, hand coming up to hold his face firmly. He groaned through a grin, shaking his head at her sass as he leaned down to kiss her again, amused as he murmured against her lips,
“Alright smart mouth”
His hand slipped back down, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband this time and her breath caught in anticipation. He began to ease the fabric down she lifted her hips to help him slip the sweat pants off, leaving her legs bares, causing the cool air of the house to raise goosebumps across her skin. Then came his touch as he ran his palms down the outside of her thighs, like he was trying to warm her back up and he leaned in, brushing a kiss just below her navel.
Then another, a little lower.
And another.
Trailing down her skin in a path of heat, his lips moved slowly, like he was memorising her. She exhaled shakily, watching him through heavy eyes as his kisses traveled further down her stomach, past her hips, down the inside of her thigh- each one soft and lingering, almost worshipful.
Like he was praying with his mouth.
Like she was something holy.
His lips hovered over the soft skin of her inner thigh, and he looked up at her through thick lashes as his hands came up to lift her thighs, placing them over his shoulders. Instinctively her hand came to his hair her fingers slipping over the short, bristly strands. His hands slid up her legs and came to a stop at her hips, thumbs rubbing small circles onto her skin right above the band of her black panties.
"Was sort of hoping you'd be wearing those pink ones.. you know the ones that say-"
"-Bunny?"
She cuts him off as a smile breaks on to his face telling her all she needed to know. She let out a small humorous hum before speaking out,
"I'm sure that can be arranged..."
"Hmmm- I'd like that"
His murmured back, his head leaning down and she gasped as his breath ghosted over her covered pussy, her body suddenly feeling hotter, the ache between her legs impossible to ignore. He looked up at her then, his eyes darker than before.
"Tell me what you need Bunny"
He spoke his voice low. Y/N's breath hitched as she shook her head, trying to maintain some semblance of control. She hated herself for giving into him so easily, she'd always told herself if this ever were to happen she'd be the one in-control, she'd be the one placing the cards on the table. But she can't seem to find the strength to stop him, his touch is like a drug and she's not ready to deal with the withdrawals.
"I..."
Rafe merely smirked as he looked up to her, his pupils blown wide as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her covered mound.
"Gotta speak up baby"
Her mouth parted, trembling at his movements and she couldn't help but let out a pitiful whimper at his actions.
"Use your words"
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down her legs, throwing them somewhere across the room as he pushed her back against the couch; resting her thighs over his shoulders once more as he settled between her legs, his hand coming up to spread her folds, already damp with her arousal.
"I want you to touch me"
She breathed out as he looked up to her, his hands slowly running up and down her thighs, causing the heat between her thighs to become unbearable.
"Where d'you want me to touch you?"
He breathed out, his breath ghosting over her pussy making her hips buck into his face, to which his hand came down to her lower stomach, pressing her back down into the leather of the couch, his bicep flexing at the motion.
"Right here?"
"Rafe- plea-"
She started but was cut off when his mouth pressed against her, tongue delving between her folds with a hunger that made her cry out. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling her moan as she writhed beneath him. "Don't," he spoke out, one of his hands letting go of her thigh to pull her hand away from her face, intertwining their fingers,
"I wanna hear you."
She couldn't help but let a soft moan pass through her lips causing Rafe to groan against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. He licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around her clit with a skill that had her seeing stars."Rafe..." she whimpered, her hips bucking against his face, her hand in his hair pulling him closer.
"Fuck- just like that... please. Please don't stop"
He obliged, doubling his efforts as he brought his hand which was resting on her thigh down to her sopping wet hole which was desperately clenching around nothing. Sucking her clit back between his lips his middle finger came out, slowly circling her entrance before pushing in with ease, her pussy pulling him in with no resistance. A loud whine spilled from her lips and Y/N let her head drop back against the back of the couch, eyes fluttering shut as her heels dug into his back, her hips lifting to meet his mouth. She could feel the pleasure building inside her, coiling tighter and tighter with each stroke of his tongue.
Rafe pulled back, fingers still languidly moving against as her eyes shoot open looking down to him. He's grinning up at her his chin glistening with her arousal. She whimpered at the sight of him her body shivering with need as she stared down at him with hazy, lust-filled eyes.
"That feel good baby?"
He murmured, his voice low and seductive. It wasn't a question but rather a statement, one that sent shivers down her spine. She blinked trying to process his words through the fog of desire clouding her mind as his fingers still worked in and out of her, curling slightly causing her to swallow harshly.
"Yes- yes-"
She whined out her voice breathy and needy.
"This what you wanted? My mouth against this pretty pussy..."
Rafe trailed his tongue up the thigh, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. She moaned, her hips bucking against his face as she sought more friction, more pleasure. "Yes-" she gasped, her hand which wasn't gripping the edge of the couch flying to the back of his head, eagerly pushing his back towards her pussy.
"Yes! Oh shit I- please Rafe"
He hummed the sound low in his throat as he pressed a kiss to her throbbing clit, his tongue delving between her folds with a hunger that stole her breath. She groaned out, her head tilting forwards to watch him indulge in her- her mouth falling open slightly as she rocked against his face. He licked and sucked, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as he held her in place. "Fuck," she whimpered, her body trembling on the edge of ecstasy.
"Don't stop oh- please don't stop."
He didn't, why would he when she was a such a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. Her body tensed, her thighs trembling around his head as she chased the euphoric feeling. She whimpered, her voice high and desperate.
"I'm gonna cum- I'm gonna fucking cum"
He grunted against her, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body which sent her over the edge. Her body trembled, thighs clamping around his head and her walls tightening around his fingers. Rafe's hips ground against the couch slightly to try ease the throbbing feeling in his briefs at the sound of her cries of pleasure as he continued to work her through her orgasm.
"That's it sweet girl"
He murmured out comfortingly and she could've sworn her vision blurred as the words left his mouth. When she finally came down she was panting, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Rafe pulled himself away from her slightly, sitting back on his heels. His fingers, which were soaked in her release, lifted up to his mouth, his tongue gliding over them, cleaning them free of her arousal. Y/N blinked up at him her body still trembling with aftershocks and she couldn't help but feel the heat rising in between her legs again at the lewd sight of him in front of her.
Rafe merely smirked his hand sliding up to cup her cheek, pulling her closer to him. Y/N leaned forward, pressing her lips to Rafe's in a kiss. He groaned against her mouth, his hand sliding up to rest on her hip as he deepened the kiss. She could taste herself on him, and some sick part of her couldn't help the twist in the pit of her stomach that she got to have him like this. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and she granted it without hesitation. Their tongues tangled, a sloppy, wet kiss that left no doubt about what they both wanted.
Rafe’s hand moved as the other remained cupping her face, sliding down to grip her hip as he ground himself against her, his hardness pressing insistently into her through his jeans and she gasped into the kiss, the feeling of the rough denim against her making her shudder, her nails digging into his shoulders. His lips moulded with hers like he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t breathe unless he had her right there.
“I need you.” He mumbled against her, “You don’t get it Y/N…” His breath hitched as his hand slipped to her spine, pulling her up against him.
“Fuck- I need you so bad it hurts.”
She pulled back slightly, her breath coming hot and heavy, her eyes searching his. She whispered her voice steady despite the burning heat building up inside her,
“I’m right here”
Without breaking their gaze, she reached down her fingers brushing against the buckle of his belt. Her movements were almost hurried, driven by a need that mirrored Rafe's. She undid the belt the, her hands trembling slightly as the sound of the metal clinking accompanied the sound of their heavy breaths in the silent room. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together to relieve the ache between them but his presence between them stopped her from doing so. His hand came down to help her pushed his jeans down along with his briefs, letting his cock stand tall against his lower stomach, his tip already glistening in his pre-cum.
"Look at what you do to me- can't even fucking think straight with you around me."
His eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as he stared at her, his desire laid bare. Her hand wrapped around him, her fingers closing around his hard length and she felt him shudder at her touch. She began to pump him slowly, her grip firm but gentle, her thumb brushing over his sensitive head. Rafe’s eyes fluttered closed, his head dropping to rest in the crook of her neck. A heavy groan escaped him, his breath hot against her skin as he exhaled through his nose. He mutters, his voice thick with need.
“You’ve ruined me... fuck- you've ruined me for anyone else.”
His voice is rough and hoarse, his gaze locked on her hand moving over his cock and as his hips jerk in her grip. Her other hand slid up his chest tracing the contours of his muscles, her touch light and teasing. She leaned in her lips brushing against his ear before placing a soft kiss right below it, “Good,” she murmured her mouth brushing the edge of his jaw now,
“Because I don’t want you touching anyone else.”
Her words are almost sultry and his eyes roll slightly at the sound of her voice and before he could respond she shifted her weight, pushing him back against the sofa. Rafe’s flutter open at the sudden movement, a mix of surprise and arousal flashing across his face as he felt her straddling him, her legs bracketing his hips. He opened his mouth to speak but her lips crashed against his, tongues tangling hungrily as if they were trying to consume each other. Y/N's hands comes up from where they rest steadily on his shoulder to grip his face, mumbling out raggedly,
"Open your mouth"
He silently complies and she leans into him, wantonly taking his tongue into her mouth, her grip firm on his face as her cheeks hollow slightly as she sucks. Rafe let out what sounded like a low growl from his throat, his hands sliding down her back, his touch hungry as his fingers grip her ass before moving to run up and down her waist, pulling her closer. She ground down against him, her hips moving urgently, the friction electric, her core aching with need as she felt his hardness beneath her.
Y/N pulled away, pupils blown wide as her hand came up to wipe her fingers against the smudge of drool which collected by the corner of her lips. Rafe's hand moved to grab her wrist, guiding her spit slickened fingers to his mouth, his tongue swirling around her digits. As he slipped them out his mouth he brought her hand down, wrapping it around his heavy cock once more.
"You gonna give me what I want now hmmm... ?"
He breathed out against her neck, his nose running along her skin before his lips pressed against her, sucking hungrily, promising to leave a mark behind.
"Gonna be a good girl and fuck me Bunny?"
He cooed and Y/N couldn't help but shiver as she nodded to him, raising herself on her knees as Rafe shuffled beneath her, his hand wrapped around himself, slowly guiding his tip between her wet folds. A soft moan passed her lips as he bumped into her clit and her hands came out to steady herself on his shoulders. As he teased her weeping hole her mouth fell open,
"Rafe-"
"I know baby"
She couldn't hold back the loud moan which escaped her lips as she eased herself down onto him, her eyes fluttering shut at the stretch of him. She bottomed out against him, her own arousal dripping down onto his thighs.
"Fuccckk"
Rafe groaned out roughly, head tipping back against the couch momentarily as his hands griped onto her hips harshly to steady himself. "Fuck-", he choked out,
"So fuckin' tight"
He'd thought about this moments for months, every night when he couldn't sleep and his hand would slip under the covers it was her he would think of. And now that she was finally here, in front of him, so hot and wet against him- he had to squeeze his eyes shut and ground himself or else it would be over far too quickly.
As his eyes opened they found Y/N's as she leaned back and began to move, her hips raising slightly before dropping back down onto him. Her hands slid down to rest on his chest as she rocked her hips against him in a rhythm that was addictive.
“Fuck, you feel so good”
He groaned, his voice thick with desire as his lips trailed down her neck. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples sending shivers of pleasure through her body. Y/N moaned, her head falling back as she arched into his touch, her hips continuing to move in a rhythm that was starting to become desperate. She groaned out as she leaned down, her lips hovering over his.
“Tell me how good I feel”
“You feel so fucking good baby”
Rafe’s eyes locked onto hers as he spoke, his hands gripping her ass a little tighter.
“Like you were made for me.”
Y/N whined as she leaned into him, her lips brushing his once more, her body pressing down onto him with increasing urgency. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing accompanied by the wet slapping of skin against skin and their tangled moans.
"So fucking perfect for me"
Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at his words, her head tilting back as she surrendered to the sensations flooding her senses. Her breasts rose and fell with each movement, nipples brushing against his chest with each rock of her hips- causing her to slip her bottom lip between her teeth biting down at the feeling. "Harder," Rafe spoke out, his voice a command laced with pure and utter desperation,
"Take me harder baby"
She didn't need to be told twice as her hips carnally snapped against his, her moans becoming unrestraint as she chased after that pleasurable peak building within her. Rafe's hands dragging over her skin as he met her thrusts, his hips bucking upwards and his hand slipping down to rub tight circles on her pulsing clit. He couldn't help himself as he looked down, watching his cock disappear in and out of her, a white ring of her arousal forming at the base of him causing him to feel completely intoxicated. Y/N's nails frantically dug into his shoulders- sure to leave marks that would serve as a reminder tomorrow.
As her cries of Rafe's name became whiner he could tell she was close to the edge of ecstasy, the pace of her rhythmic bouncing in his lap stuttering, which caused his hands to move to her hips, his grip firm as he took control.
“I’ve got you”
He hummed into her ear, his voice steady and reassuring. His hand pressed into the soft flesh of her hips, guiding her movements as he set a rhythm to help ease that tense coil within her which was ready to snap. Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, her body trembling as she rested her hands around the back of his neck. “Oh fuck- Rafe!” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as her climax approached.
“Don’t stop-”
He didn’t, his hands moved with purpose, dragging her up and down his cock his own body tensing with anticipation. “Come for me,” he grunted out, his lips pressing against her neck, his breath hot against her skin.
“Let go baby I've got you.”
Y/N’s body slumped into him as her orgasm ripped through her, her forehead falling to rest against Rafe's as her walls clenched around him. He followed moments later, his hips jerking sporadically upward as he thrusted into her, shaking groans of her name passing his parted lips. Their breaths were ragged as they clung to each other, drowning in the pleasure of what had been building for months.
As their breathing slowed down Rafe shifted carefully beneath her, one arm cradling her back as he reclined guiding them both down until he was lying fully against the couch cushions and she was against his chest, her cheek finding its place right over his heart. One of his hands stayed on her bare back, the other reaching lazily toward the end of the couch, fingers snagging the blanket tossed over the armrest behind his head.
With a quiet tug he draped it over them, wrapping their tangled bodies in the soft warmth. The fabric brushed against her shoulders, and she instinctively tucked herself closer. Rafe tilted his head slightly his eyes heavy as he looked down at her his fingers tracing lazy, soothing lines up and down her spine.
“You cold?”
He asked his voice a quiet rasp. Y/N blinked slowly her lashes brushing against his skin as she shifted just enough to murmur,
“No… you’re warm.”
A soft sound left him- something between a hum and a chuckle- and his lips tugged upward in a quiet smile. His hand stilled for a moment, resting flat against her back like he couldn’t bear to not be touching her. “So…” Y/N murmured her voice barely louder than the soft rustle of the blanket shifting with them. Her fingers traced idle shapes along the skin of his chest,
“Does this make me your girl now?”
Rafe’s lips quirked upward in amusement but his answer came without hesitation,
“You were my girl long before this.”
She lifted her head just enough to look at him, searching his face for any sign of teasing- but all she saw was truth. His eyes held no doubt, only certainty and that made her chest swell. Without saying anything else she leaned in and pressed a slow tender kiss to his lips, one that lingered a little longer than necessary. Then she sank back down against him, settling into the now familiar warmth of his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear became like a lullaby to her, eyes fluttering shut with every pass of his hand down her spine and every steady beat in her ear. Her breathing deepened and Rafe just watched her.
“I love you”
He whispered, lips brushing softly over the crown of her head as he spoke. Y/N smiled sleepily, her fingers still making slow, lazy patterns on his chest even as her body melted deeper into rest.
“I love you too Rafe”
And with her nestled against him safe and warm in his arms, Rafe closed his eyes too- vowing to himself he’d never let her go again.
summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: Whelp- after 2 months of waiting here's what everyone's been longing for.... Jeez Louise, I did re-write and re-read this a few times cause it's pretty intense so I hope you all feel the same heart shattering feeling I did when I re-read this for the last time.
warnings: angst angst angst, extremely violent behaviour, abuse, broken bottles, bleeding, implication of drug abuse, alcohol, injuries, abusive father, domestic abuse, mentions of past trauma, sad!rafe, sad!bunny, soft!rafe.
The silence clung to the walls like thick and choking smoke and the heels sat perfectly placed on the coffee table like some cruel centre piece. Her eyes couldn’t leave them. Her chest was so tight she felt like her throat was constricted as she stood frozen. It was quiet except for the low buzz of the lamp beside Luke, shadows flickering on the walls and across his face. She could hear the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen but every mundane noise around her felt too loud- like the whole house was holding its breath just like she was. Luke shifted, just slightly, a lazy movement of him casually leaning back into the couch, his eyes flicked up to her with a sick kind of amusement,
“Didn’t think I’d find out, huh?”
His voice was gravelly, thick with liquor and something else that she'd become much too familiar with- something clearly much stronger and it clung to every word. She didn’t answer right away, her mouth was too dry and her fingers were twitching at her sides, but she forced herself not to flinch. Her heart thudded against her ribs like it wanted to escape.
Run.
Hide.
She felt… small.
Small in the way she hadn’t felt in years, small like a little girl caught with something behind her back waiting for the consequence. But she vowed to herself years ago that she wasn’t a little girl anymore, so she straightened. Her spine stiff, shoulders squaring as much as she could manage under the weight pressing down on her. She made her voice as steady as she could, dragging the words up from somewhere deep inside her chest as she took a few steps away from the front the door into the house.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about...”
She hated how it sounded, too light, too rehearsed and much too defensive. Luke didn’t move- he didn’t need to. His presence was already a vice around her lungs. Instead he just gave a low, bitter laugh, shaking his head like she was the one being ridiculous.
“No?” he rasped, “Then maybe these just walked in all on their own...?”
He nodded toward the shoes with a mocking jerk of his chin and she swallowed thickly, jaw tightening,
“You went through my stuff-”
“-I live here, don’t I?”
He slurred, as if that made his actions justified. As if being under this roof gave him permission to dig into pieces of her that didn’t belong to him- that she'd worked so incredibly hard to keep a secret.
“You have no right—”
“-I have every right to know what my daughter’s doing for money.” He leaned forward now moving his elbows on his knees and even in the dim light she could see the bloodshot gleam in his eyes.
“So tell me sweetheart, how much do they pay you to walk around like a whore?”
The word hit like a slap and her whole body went stiff. There it was. No more dancing around the subject. No more fake passive tone- he’d said it out loud, and it sounded ugly. Her nails dug into her palms and the heat behind her eyes built fast, but she blinked it back.
“Don’t call me that.”
She said, voice low and he smirked like it was funny. Like she was amusing him, then he took a sip from his glass the melting ice clinking lazily around the small amount of liquid left.
“Why not? That's what you do, right? You dance for men- let ‘em stuff their dirty little bills wherever they want. Bet you like that, huh?”
She wanted to scream, to throw something at him and run. But she didn’t, she stood her ground, even though every part of her felt like it was going to collapse in on itself. She whispered out bitterly,
“You don’t know anything about me”
“Oh- I know enough.”
His words slurred at the edges a cold silence fell between them again. She looked at him- really looked at him. The man sitting on the couch wasn’t a father. Not the kind she’d spent her childhood wishing would show up to school plays or bandage her scraped knees. This was just a shell, hollowed out and rotting from the inside out, drenched and drowning in whiskey and maybe it had always been this way. She took a breath, the weight of it cutting sharp through her lungs.
“No you don't”
"Someone’s feeling brave tonight.”
Luke’s mouth twitched into something mean but she didn’t flinch- she refused to give him the satisfaction her cowering. Even when he stood up, her eyes didn’t leave the shoes on the coffee table. He stumbled slightly as he rose, and the half-empty glass he’d abandoned wobbled on the edge of the table where he'd placed it down. She took a breath, deep and slow and the floorboard beneath her creaked quietly in the otherwise suffocating silence around them.
“Where did you get those?”
She asked, voice low but clear whilst her eyes flicked up from the heels to his face, searching for confirmation of what she already knew. Luke was already pushing himself further away from the couch, movements sluggish, as he uncoordinatedly dragged his shoes against the floor. He swayed toward her, close enough now that she could smell it, cheap whiskey that clung to him.
“None of your damn business.”
Her jaw tightened, “They were under my bed,” she said slower this time, “why were you in my room....” He didn’t answer right away, just sneered. The lamp’s light hit the sharp planes of his face, deepening the shadows under his eyes, casting an eerie glow along his jaw.
"Were you looking for mone-"
“-I said,” he repeated, his voice dropping into a slurred mockery, “none of your goddamn business.”
She didn’t flinch, but she felt her pulse hammer in her throat. Her skin prickled with cold, even as heat burned in her chest. She said stiffly, crossing her arms, though her fingers trembled, “They aren’t mine” He laughed then, an ugly sound that rattled in his chest and echoed around the living room. Not amused but spiteful. “Oh, right,” he said, teeth bared in something that was definitely not a smile.
“Right. Some other girl’s little hooker heels live under your bed.”
Before she could say anything back, before the breath could even reach her lungs- he picked the heels up with one unsteady hand and hurled them. The sound was sharper than she expected, a hard clatter of plastic striking the floorboards, the left heel bouncing once before skidding to a stop at her feet. She didn’t move- stood completely still- arms at her sides, fingers trembling faintly like static was moving beneath her skin. The heels lay crooked at her feet, their rhinestones catching the warm light and glinting like they were mocking her. The other rested just beside it, half-twisted, the clear strap folded in on itself like it was ashamed. Luke’s breathing was ragged now, heavy in the quiet room. She could feel him watching her, could feel the pressure of his gaze, like it was trying to crawl under her skin, tear into whatever defences she had left. “Go on,” he muttered,
“Pick ’em up, you need ‘em for your shift tonight.”
Y/N's vision sharpened, then blurred around the edges as she kept her eyes on the shoes. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry, but instead she swallowed hard and she said nothing because if she opened her mouth now, she wasn’t sure what would come out. Not even as her father narrowed his bloodshot eyes at her, studying her with the kind of loathing that seeps deeper than a blade. Her spine stayed stiff and she slowly meets his stare. She refuses to drop her gaze. Luke lets out a rough exhale, then turns, staggering back toward the couch. She watches every movement like a hawk, the weight of her heartbeat thunderous in her ears. He reaches for a bottle on the table, half-balanced between ashtrays and pill bottles. His fingers curl around the neck of it and he tips it back. Nothing. The bottle’s empty. He stares at it, eyes vacant and lips curling in disgust and then—
He turns and throws the glass bottle across the room.
The sound is sudden. It hits the wall just behind her and shatters, exploding into glittering shards like fireworks. She gasps- a small, strangled sound- and her hands instinctively fly up to shield herself as fragments rain down and clink against the floor. One shard bounces and skims across her arm, leaving a stinging trail of red. She’s still frozen, chest rising and falling too fast, breath catching in her throat. Luke’s voice cuts through the moment, “You’re just like your mother,” he spits, tone low and cruel.
“Whoring yourself out to the whole damn island.”
Her stomach drops, “Stop,” she breathes,“Stop it.” She tries to keep her voice even, but it quivers as she glances toward the hallway- toward the small, cracked door at the end... JJ’s room. She can’t- he can’t hear this. Her voice sharpens, panicked.
“Please. Just— keep your voice down or you'll wake him up.”
Luke ignores her- he smirks, “What?” he taunts. “You’re embarrassed now?” He throws his head back and laughs amused,
“You’re embarrassed aren't you-”
“-stop raising your voice!”
She snaps, quieter than before but more desperate, her words shaking, “Please stop.” He steps toward her again. Too fast. She doesn’t even have time to move as he grabs her chin- fingers digging in hard, rough- yanking her face up to meet his. The pressure sends a bolt of pain through her jaw and she lets out a quiet gasp.
“Shut the fuck up”
He growls, his breath is hot and too close flooding her senses smothering her. Her eyes sting, and her heart is thudding against her ribs so loud it might claw its way through her skin. Her breath is barely there now, shallow and trembling. She doesn’t dare look toward JJ’s door again. For a moment- just a breath- there’s stillness and Luke’s hand drops from her chin, fingers uncurling like a slow release of pressure. She exhales shakily, chest tight with dread. Her face throbs where his grip had been but he let go and maybe that means he’s don—
His arm swings.
The slap comes without warning- a violent CRACK echoing through the small living room like a gunshot. Her head whips to the side from the impact and a choked sound leaves her throat, barely a cry. Her vision goes white for a second as the sting blooms across her cheekbone. She stumbles backward- legs buckling- and she crashes down hard onto the floor. Her hip hits the edge of a chair, knocking it sideways. Wood scrapes across the floor, loud and jarring and she lands on her ass with a thud, palms hitting the ground to catch herself. She’s dazed her ears ringing and the room sways slightly.
From down the hall, there’s the creak of a door opening.
“...What the hell?”
JJ’s voice, groggy, still thick with sleep as he mumbles more to himself than anyone else. His figure rounds the corner, rubbing his eyes with the bottom of his t-shirt which is rumpled from sleep. But then he stops- freezes mid-step. His eyes drop to the scene, Y/N on the floor dazed one hand holding the side of her face, a toppled chair beside her. They hadn’t spoken since their argument and even though it cut them deep and left them both angry and raw, it didn’t matter now. Whatever was said, whatever tension hung between them, he wasn’t about to stand there and watch their father raise a hand to her. Not after all the times she’d stood up for him- shielded him, defended him when no one else would. Luke staggered forward again with his hand raised like he’s about to strike again and JJ’s whole body snaps into motion.
“Hey-!”
He grabs Luke’s wrist mid-air just before it can strike and shoves him back hard. Luke stumbles, nearly tripping over the coffee table but steadies himself with a growl, face flushed with rage and drunkenness. His eyes burn with fury as he shoves JJ right back, sending him a step back toward the wall, feet barely avoiding the broken glass on the floor by his feet. JJ doesn’t stumble far- he’s too steady for that and the second he finds his footing again, he attempts to put himself between Y/N and their father. His arm automatically moves in front of her like a shield but Luke’s chest is heaving his voice slurring with venom as he spits over JJ's shoulder to the girl on the floor,
“Get out of this house.”
The words cut through the space harshly. Y/N’s ears are still ringing, but she hears it and it's like a slap all over again. Her head lifts slowly, lips parted. “...What?” Her voice is weak, barely a whisper whilst JJ’s eyes flash with confusion,
“What?”
He echoes incredulous but Luke isn’t listening. He pushes past JJ, snarling like a wild dog. And before either of them can react, he grabs Y/N by the hair- fist twisted tight as he yanks her up from the floor like a rag doll. She lets out a sharp cry, her hands flying up to grab at his arm, fingers scrabbling and nails digging into his skin. JJ’s shout in protest breaks like thunder, hands already reaching to wrench her free, but Luke holds steadily, dragging her upward until she’s on her knees, her neck straining under the pull. The pain is blinding and her scalp screams at the pressure- vision going spotty and through it all her heart pounds. “Stop.” JJ’s voice comes low and firm, no longer confused, no longer groggy and his hands are on Luke again, trying to pry him off her.
“Dad get off of her”
He’s practically wrestling Luke now, arms locked around his to break his grip. Y/N’s face is tight with pain quiet whimpers escaping her lips involuntarily, her knees barely finding balance on the hardwood, her scalp still burning from the pull.
“JJ stop-”
She gasps out, voice cracking, because although she doesn't want to admit it she knows this can get worse. Luke snarls and shoves JJ back, catching him off balance. The blonde boy stumbles, trying to recover, but Luke follows fast and grabs him by the collar of his T-shirt, jerking him forward like he weighs nothing. Then he shoves JJ back so violently, he knocks his shin on the coffee table and flies into the couch. The cushions buckle under his weight, and he hits the backrest hard, a grunt punched out of him as the wind is knocked from his lungs. He curls forward slightly, hand on his ribs, trying to catch his breath.
“Jay—”
Y/N calls out as she pushes herself up and takes a step toward him, reaching out instinctively- but Luke catches her by the back of her top. He wrenches her to a stop like he owns her and her breath catches in her throat as she feels the fabric of her shirt pull tight around her collarbones, choking her slightly. Voice like acid Luke speaks out;
“I won’t have a prostitute in my house.”
It’s not shouted, it’s spat, full of filth and shame.
Her entire body goes still, not just frozen- but paralysed, like her soul stepped out of her skin. JJ looks up at them, finally catching enough air to sit upright again and for the first time since he appeared, he hears what this argument is even about. Every nerve in the room goes electric and the silence that follows is louder than the violence. Y/N’s face pales and her jaw tightens- but her eyes… they’re glassy. Because in that moment, her worst fear is real- JJ's looking at her eyes wide and unmoving
He's still sitting on the couch his chest rising and falling, watching. Watching frozen as Luke picks up the heels from the floor and hurls them across the room. They bounce off Y/N’s thigh with a sharp thud, then clatter uselessly to the floor by her feet again. She flinches, her lip trembling, tears gathering like stormwater.
“Dad... please”
She whispers, her voice wrecked, her hands up now palms half-raised like she’s pleading, not sure whether to defend herself or beg. Luke turns, sneering like a madman, he points at her but addresses JJ,
“Your sister here’s been slutting herself out to the whole island” His head tips mockingly, his tone acidic.
“Haven’t you sweetheart?”
She breaks- just completely breaks. “Please,” she cries, her voice ragged, barely recognizable.
"Working as a fucking stripper thinking we wouldn't find out?
“Please stop—”
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
He bellows and Y/N snaps back, trembling from head to toe. Her face is wet with tears, her eyes red and wide with disbelief.
“I pay for this house,” she chokes out, “I pay for everything-”
Luke’s arm lashes out toward the table. His hand grabs a beer bottle, half-full, sticky, and hurls it at her CRASH. It explodes on the wall next to her and JJ flinches from his spot on the couch as the glass rains down scattering near her feet the warm alcohol landing in warm splatters over her skin.
“GET OUT!”
Luke roars out again, the veins in his neck pulsing. She’s sobbing now- deep, guttural, humiliating sobs she’s never let out before, not in public, not even alone- never like this. Her gaze flicks to JJ, still slumped slightly forward on the couch. His face is blank and she can tell he's still stunned, still trying to process. Not just the violence but the truth behind his fathers words because surely this cant be true... He’s never seen his father like this. Not this bad. “JJ,” she gasps out through her sobs.
“Please I can explain…”
But he doesn’t move- he can’t. His father is standing right in front of him, tall and wild and swaying like a storm with legs, casting a shadow over JJ like he’s eight years old again hiding defensively in his bedroom whilst he listens to his sister taking the blows of his fathers anger through the cracked wooden door.
“We don’t want your dirty fucking money”
Luke snarls, he spits the words out each syllable laced with years of resentment and JJ finally starts to rise, hands bracing against the cushions but Luke is already on her. He storms over to her like a force of nature, grabbing her by the arm, yanking her toward the front door.
“Get off me”
She sobs through her tears, but it’s useless. “Y/N!?” JJ calls out, but he’s caught between the couch and Luke as the older man throws open the door like it’s nothing, pushing her onto the porch. Her feet stumble, scraping over the wood as she tries to gain footing but Luke is relentless.
JJ pushes through the doorway now protests falling from his mouth, but Luke has momentum. He manhandles her through the porch, down the steps, and shoves her hard- her knees hit the grass outside the house. She lands with a choked sob, both palms and knees scraping against the dirt, her breath punched from her lungs as she crumples in the dark yard. The porch light flickers above her like it’s ashamed and JJ follows after her, heart pounding, reaching out but Luke twists back and-
Slams a palm into JJ’s face.
“NO!”
Y/N cries out from the ground as JJ stumbles back hand flying to his cheek, eyes narrowed in pain as the sting sets in. Blood flushes to the surface, his tanned skin blooming with the red shape of a palm. Luke turns his head back towards her slowly, locking eyes with her again. His lip curling with disgust,
“Don’t fucking come back,” he growls, low and final. “You hear me?”
He turns to JJ grunting out, “Get in”
Luke mutters his voice sour, then he shoves the blonde boy one firm hand in the centre of JJ’s chest pushing him hard enough that he stumbles backward into the house, nearly tripping over the edge of the carpet. JJ barely catches himself, breath hitching in his throat. Luke doesn’t look at him again, instead, he turns back to the porch, to the night, to her. Y/N is still on her knees in the grass, chest heaving with desperate sobs, her arms limp now at her sides. The tears streak her cheeks like messy rivers and Luke sneers at the sight of her like she’s filth he stepped in and then he lifts his arm again.
Whip
The heels sail through the air- those stupid plastic heels. They hit the ground a few feet away from her with a soft thud, not nearly dramatic enough for how much they meant meerly a few moments ago. One lands upside down, the other on its side.
Pitiful.
Y/N stares at them.
Settled awkwardly in the grass like discarded trash, like they’re a symbol of everything she tried to hide, everything she gave up to survive. Luke stands there in the doorway just second longer, long enough to let the insult settle into the silence between them.
SLAM
The door crashes shut behind him, the frame trembling and Y/N is left outside alone in the dark. On her knees surrounded by the pieces of her life now scattered in the grass. She doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting there, could’ve been five minutes, could’ve been twenty. Time stopped making sense the moment the door slammed behind her, the moment the grass kissed her knees and refused to let go. Her legs are numb now, tingling from the way she's been sat in this kneeling position. Stiff from how she’s been folded on them like a prayer left unanswered. Her breath still hitches every so often broken, shivering sobs leaving her in empty exhales.
Eventually, with a soft whimper of effort, she drags herself forward. The grass is dry beneath her palms, dust rough against her skin as she reaches for the shoes- the stupid fucking heels. She picks them up, fingers curling around the plastic, the weight of them suddenly so heavy it makes her stomach twist and then she stands on shaky legs.
She doesn't even look back at the house.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N sits in her car the engine off, the world around her still. She’s in the parking lot tucked-away in their spot. Hidden from the rest of the world. Her arms rest heavy in her lap and the heels sit beside her on the passenger seat, one of the straps dangling limply. Her fingers twitch, the pads of them an angry red. Her hands sting with every shift- scraped and bruised from the way she'd hit the ground. Her knees burn too, and her cheek is swollen and hot, the imprint of Luke’s hand still burning on her skin like a brand. Her head feels like it might split open from the ache thumping behind her eyes.
It all hurts.
Inside and out
Her hands weakly fumble into her back pocket, digging through the fabric until she finds it- her phone. When she pulls it out, the screen is cracked, not enough to kill it but spiderwebbed across the top corner. It must’ve been crushed when she fell- when Luke slapped her and her whole body crumpled like it wasn’t hers. The screen lights up:
1:37 AM.
The numbers blur as her vision wavers, her thumb hovers for a second and then moves before she can stop herself. Before she can think and before she can remember all the reasons she shouldn’t. She dials the number at the top of her call-list, it rings once then twice and her breath snags in her throat.
“Y/N?”
Rafe’s voice rings out rough and confused, it can be heard the way his tone changes over the phone, like he feels her discomforting silence crawling through the line.
“What’s wrong?”
Her lips part but nothing comes out just air and pain and then- she breaks. The sob rips out of her so fast, so hard, it nearly chokes her up in the process. She curls over herself in the driver’s seat, her forehead pressing to the steering wheel, phone clutched so tight to her ear it might snap “Y/N- hey, hey,” Rafe says, instantly alert now, voice taut,
“Are you okay? What's wrong? Talk to me- speak to me please...”
She can’t get words out, just more sobs start to wrack her body, more gasps for breath as fat tears start to drip down onto her thighs as she sits hunched over.
“Where are you, baby?” he asks, voice cracking with worry. “Where are you—”
“-our spot...”
She whispers, it’s the only thing she can manage, a broken little breath between sobs. He doesn’t hesitate after her voice slips through his phone speaker.
“Okay. Okay- stay there, yeah? Stay right there”
He says already moving. You can hear it in the background through the scraping of a chair against hard wood floor followed by the shuffle of keys and a door opening and closing.
“I’m coming- I’m coming right now just hold on for me okay?”
She nods even though he can’t see it, phone still pressed against her cheek, tears spilling faster now. He doesn't put the phone down - instead keeps their call going- his hearing straining for her every little breath to have some kind of sign she's still there- she's still okay. As Rafe slid into his car, his mind flickered back to just hours before, to the words that had rooted themselves in his skull, echoing on a brutal loop no matter how hard he tried to shut them out.
“I can’t do this with you, Rafe.”
She’d said it with tears in her eyes, voice breaking as she backed away like he was something that disgusted her- something dangerous. And maybe he was. But he hadn’t expected the rejection to feel like this, like something ripping open inside him. His grip tightened around the wheel as he remembered how he’d just stood there in the lot of the country club after she drove off, his eyes fixed on the empty space her car had occupied like she might somehow reappear if he stared long enough. He didn’t even remember the drive back to Tannyhill, just the heaviness pressing in on him.
He’d gone straight into his father’s office and sat in the leather chair like a ghost. Motionless and numb. The desk drawer had remained closed, but his thoughts had locked on it all the same, on the small plastic baggie inside that he hadn’t touched in months. The urge was there gnawing at him from the inside, whispering to him.
But he never reached for it.
Because then the call came.
And now, as he pulled out of Tannyhill’s tall gates, headlights cutting through the dark, her voice still echoed in his ear, this time not distant and cold but raw and trembling. Even after everything she’d said to him, after he’d laid his heart bare and she’d begged him not to make her feel something she wasn’t ready for- he didn’t hesitate.
Not for a single second.
She’d shut him down, left him standing there with his love hanging heavy between them but this? Her voice breaking on the other end of the line- scared, small and needing him?
There’s no version of the world where he won't run to her.
Time doesn’t move the way it used to, instead it feels like it stretches, she can't even tell how much time has passed since she first dialled his number. Her phone’s still pressed against her cheek the sound of the cars's repetitive turn signal filling the phone speaker.
She’s shifted now, her feet hanging out the open door of her car, her side pressed into the back of the seat. Her knees are drawn up a little, arm which isn't holding the phone is wrapped around herself, fingers gripping onto the material of her once white work polo. Her body aches in every direction, sharp stings in her hands and knees, the throb in her cheek- it's almost unbearable, and her head?
It aches so badly.
From all the crying.
She didn’t know it was possible to cry this much, didn’t know there could still be more left to spill. She sniffles softly, wiping at her eyes, but it does nothing. The tears keep coming. Slow and silent. Her throat is raw, her breathing shallow and she’s so tired it feels like her bones are humming. She's broken out of her trance when headlights sweep across the lot and her eyes flicker up. The familiar sleek black Range Rover rolls in slow, pulling up a few yards away from her car. It cuts its engine, and for the smallest second, the world is quiet until the driver’s door flings open. Rafe is out of the car before it fully settles, rounding it quickly, shoes hitting against the cement and he doesn’t hesitate as he jogs over to her. He doesn’t say anything at first just sees her- really sees her- and his whole face drops.
Her smeared makeup.
The swelling on her cheek.
The trembling in her hands.
The way her eyes, red and puffy, meet his with so much hurt it nearly floors him.
“It’s okay.”
He exhales softly, stepping up to her and that’s all it takes because she's breaking again, crumpling forward with a soft wrecked sob, her body tipping forward her head falling against him right into his stomach as he stands in front of her. He stiffens for the briefest second, startled by the sudden contact, her body curling so small against him. But then, without a word, one of his hands comes up to her head- fingers gently running over her hair, stroking carefully, tenderly. The other hand rubs slow circles into her back. He doesn’t flinch at the sound of her sobs soaking into his t-shirt. He doesn’t push her away- doesn't dare- he just holds her, anchors her the best he can. It’s quiet, just the sound of waves in the distance and her breathing uneven against him. Eventually, he gently guides her back to lean against the car seat, crouching down to her level. One hand lifts to her face. His thumb traces over the edge of her cheekbone, featherlight over the angry red skin, his touch is heartbreakingly soft. "Talk to me hmm?” he murmurs, voice low, eyes searching hers.
“What happened?”
Her lips part and her throat works but no sound comes out- not at first. Her eyes blink slow and heavy, glassy with exhaustion and then her voice finally breaks.
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
The words come out small and fuck- he feels it in his chest like a punch, something fierce and ugly rising in his throat. His jaw clenches, heart physically aching at the way she says it- like she’s apologising for even existing. He kneels properly now, closer, palms on either side of her arms, grounding her.
"I don't know what to do I- I- dont know-"
“It’s okay- just breathe Y/N. You look like you're about to pass out just breathe baby.”
He says it again, quieter this time. As he kneels fully in front of her, his eyes flicker over her, taking in the brunt of her injuries, and for a second, everything slows. Her hands are both scraped raw, skin irritated and dirt-smeared, little pieces of gravel stuck to her palms. Her knees are red and scuffed, theres a cut on her arm, a thin slash still weeping slightly with red. Her cheek- god her cheek? It’s red and swollen, blooming with a bruised hue, the shape of a handprint faint but unmistakable. Her eyes are watery, lashes stuck together and mascara smudged from the crying. Her hair’s a mess looking like it's been tugged viciously out of place, and her whole body looks like it’s fighting just to stay upright. “C’mon,” he says, his voice quiet but urgent now, thumb brushing lightly against her arm to get her to look at him.
“We need to get you to a doctor-”
“-no.”
It comes out before he even finishes. She shakes her head hard, panicked, her body tensing.
“No Rafe. No doctors... please.”
He exhales sharply, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand over his buzzed hair. He’s not mad at her- not at her. He’s mad at this. At everything that got her to this point. At the fact that she’s more scared of being helped than staying hurt. “Y/N,” he says, voice lower now, gentler in fear of scaring her.
“You’re hurt—”
“Please.” Her voice cracks. “No doctors Rafe- please don’t make me, they'll ask questions and I can't-.”
Her voice cracks at the end of the sentence and it makes his jaw tick, chest rising and falling in a sigh, but finally he just nods, forcing the tension out of his shoulders as he drops his hand to her knee. “Okay,” he says softly. “Okay. No doctors.” He stares at her for another moment, quiet, then says,
“...but you’re coming back with me to Tannyhill. You’re not staying out here by yourself.” She doesn’t answer right away, she looks unsure- frightened, even. “I know it’s not ideal,” he says quickly noticing her shift in expression, “but you’ll be safe- I’ll take care of you. I won’t let anything happen to you, alright?”
She bites her lip, staring down at the floor by the car, her hands clenching and unclenching slowly which makes her skin burn. She’s weighing it all, but she’s so drained—mentally, physically. She’s got nothing left in her so she nods, just once, barely there.
“Okay”
She whispers out and relief floods him. It doesn’t show on his face much, but he breathes it out, slow and quiet. He pushes himself up and gently helps her out of the car. She leans on him more than she realises, and he doesn't mind- he holds her steady, supporting her like she’s made of glass. She asks weakly as they near his Range Rover.
“What about my car?”
“I’ll come back and get it later don't worry 'bout that”
He says softly and she starts to open her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out- she just lets her eyes drop. There’s no fight left in her, certainly no energy to insist. He opens the passenger door for her and helps her in, mindful of every flinch, every wince she lets out subconsiously. Once she’s seated, her head drops slightly against the headrest, eyes glazed.
“Just one second...”
He murmurs reaching across her. Rafe's fingers find the seatbelt and he buckles her in, she doesn’t move really just stares at him silently. Rafe closes the door and rounds the front of the car, jaw clenched, hand in a tight fist as he moves because if he ever sees Luke Maybank—
He doesn’t even let himself finish the thought as he gets behind the wheel, and looks over at her again noting her eyes closed peacefully as she rests against her head against the seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The house is quiet for a place so big, just the faint creak of the old leather couch as Y/N shifts a little, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her knees drawn up to her chest. A glass of whiskey sits in her hands which had been sipped at with shaky breaths like it was the only thing tethering her to the room. Rafe is sitting on the couch across from her, leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees, a drink in his hand too- but the liquid in his glass hasn’t moved since he poured it. It’s more for her sake really, just so she wouldn’t feel alone in whatever comfort she was trying to pull from it.
He’d cleaned her up the moment they got in, didn’t even give her the space to protest against him. He'd brought out the first aid kit he roughly knew how to use from times when his words did nothing but cause harm, and he wiped at the scrapes on her hands and knees with disinfectant, quiet apologies falling from his mouth every time she flinched. He wrapped her knees in a thin gauze, not too tight but enough to provide some pressure. An old bag of frozen vegetables came out of the freezer next, and he pressed it gently to her cheek before he handed it off to her to hold for herself. If she’d asked, he would’ve stayed right there beside her, holding it to her cheek himself all night until his arm ached and went numb from how long he’d been doing it.
But she didn't ask.
So instead they'd just… sat.
An hour passed, then another, and another and neither of them said a word. She hadn’t looked at him- but he never took his eyes off her.
Not once.
Now, the bag of vegetables was melted and her thumb was brushing slowly along the rim of her glass her eyes distant, stuck somewhere far away from the safety of his home. There’s still dirt under her nails and a small piece of bandaid is peeling at the edge from where she's been picking at it unconsciously. Her voice is so soft he almost doesn’t catch it.
“You should’ve seen the way he looked at me...”
Her eyes don’t lift as she speaks out, she just keeps staring down at the floor like it might open up and swallow her whole. Rafe’s whole body stills at her voice, his fingers tightening slightly around his untouched drink.
"Who...?"
Her voice is more breath than sound as she adds but doesn't answer his question,
“He was disgusted by me.”
He wants to ask, but something in his chest already knows.
There’s only one person she’d care enough about for it to hurt this much. Only one person whose opinion could shatter her like this and it makes his jaw tense as he looks up to her, her shoulders are hunched in on themselves like she’s trying to disappear. He swallows hard and purses his lips together.
He hates that he's right.
Rafe sets his drink down on the side table with a quiet clink of glass, the only sound in the room besides the crackling of the fire. She downs the rest of the whiskey in one breath- tilts the glass back and lets it burn its way down her throat, but it's still somehow not enough to dull the sharp edges of what’s pressing down on her chest. When she places the empty glass on the table, it clinks gently the sound little in the big room.
“I should go to sleep”
She mumbles, barely above a whisper. Rafe nods from where he’s been watching her, wordless, careful not to crowd her. He stands slowly, smooth and steady, then waits for her to move. She rises on stiff legs, blanket still clutched around her shoulders, and she follows him without a word. The hallways of Tannyhill are dim, lit only by the warm lights spaced along the walls and her footsteps are quiet behind his as he ascends the stairs.
He pushes open a bedroom door, stepping aside for her. The room is something out of a magazine, the walls are soft coloured, a large four-poster bed dressed in white sheets and a comforter that looks as soft as clouds. There’s a matching dresser and wardrobe, polished and antique. A wide window is curtained off with thick drapes which pool slightly on the floor preventing any light from coming in, and to the right a door sits cracked open, leading into a private en-suite bathroom. On the foot of the bed, a neatly folded pile of clothes waits for her- his clothes. A black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants accompanied by a soft-looking towel. Rafe lingers by the door not wanting to push her boundaries as he speaks out,
“I’m a few doors down...”
He says, voice soft, hand gripping the edge of the door frame like he doesn’t want to leave her alone but knows he needs to give her space,“If you need anything just tell me. I’m not gonna close my door so you can find me”
“Okay”
She nods slowly, barely moving and he holds her gaze for a second longer, his expression unreadable, then closes her door with a quiet click. She’s left alone with the silence, her eyes flick down to the clothes. Her fingers curl around the fabric of the t-shirt first, soft from too many washes. It smells like him. Like fresh detergent and musk, it makes her chest twist. She slips out of her clothes and into the t-shirt, then pulls the sweatpants on. She looks toward the en-suite for a second and she knows she should go in to wash her face and brush her teeth. But she also knows there’s a mirror in there, and she can’t look at herself.
So, she leaves the towel on the end of the bed and climbs underneath the comforter, and exhales slowly as her aching body sinks into the mattress. The pillows are insanely soft, moulding perfectly around her head and shoulders. The sheets are crisp and cool, freshly laundered, and they feel soothing against her sore, bruised skin. Every inch of the bed smells like luxury, like money and warmth, like a place she doesn’t belong in but can finally let herself collapse inside of.
She doesn’t cry this time.
Instead she simply lies there, curled on her side and buried in the bed, inhaling the scent of his t-shirt and the linen sheets whilst trying to remember how to breathe right.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dirt bike skids to a stop outside the Chateau, its roar cutting through the dead hush of 2AM. JJ doesn't bother to park it properly- just lets it tip over and crash onto the ground as he hops off, boots hitting the dirt hard. He’s at the door in seconds, flinging it open with a bang that echoes through the thin walls. Inside, it’s dark and still- until John B stumbles out of his room half-asleep, hair a mess, baseball bat gripped in his hands like he's ready to swing. “JJ ?” he blurts out, blinking in confusion.
“What the fuck, man? It’s-” he checks the clock behind him, “-two in the goddamn morning.”
"Where is she?"
JJ doesn’t even acknowledge the bat, his chest is heaving as his eyes dart around the dark house. John B lowers the bat a little, frowning,
“Sarah’s sleeping, man. What’re you—”
“No. Y/N."
JJ’s voice cracks around the name as he asks again, "Where is she?”
John B pauses confused, “She’s not here... ?”
JJ lets out a harsh exhale, running both hands through his hair before suddenly slamming his fist into the nearest thing sitting on the corner of the old table, an open cereal box. It hits the floor, scattering flakes across the dusty floorboards of the house. John B raises his brow,
“Dude- can you not trash my house please?”
“Sorry”
JJ mutters, instantly like muscle memory and his hands drop, shoulders sagging. He stumbles backward and drops into the couch, his head falling into his hands. John B hesitates, then sets the bat down by the door and walks over, sinking down onto the old raggedy cushions beside him. He glances sideways.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on or do I have to guess?”
JJ doesn’t answer just lets out a small groan at first, frustration deeply embedded in the sound. He sits there chest rising and falling a little too fast, like he’s still trying to calm down. Then, finally, he speaks his voice rough,
“My dad… he lost it. Like really lost it tonight with her.”
“With Y/N?”
JJ nods, jaw tightening. “I didn’t know it’d be that bad. I’ve seen him go off before but he…” He swallows hard, “I didn’t even do anything- I froze. I just sat there and watched while he shoved her out the door.”
There’s a beat of silence and then John B says, softer now,
“Where’d she go?”
JJ’s fingers rake down his face, “I don’t know. I thought maybe here. But- she’s not picking up. She just kept repeating my name and…” He shakes his head, “-and she was crying, man." John B exhales, sits back into the couch with a furrowed brow and JJ repeats himself,
"Like really crying.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah”
"Why did he kick her out?"
John B leans forward, elbows to his knees, hair falling into his eyes as he rubs his hands over his face. JJ doesn't answer at first. He’s biting at the skin of his thumb, anxious and raw, his leg bouncing like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. Then like something inside of him just snaps, he lets out a sharp breath and tells him everything. John B’s brows pull together as he listens to his best friend, sympathy coursing through his veins.
From the dark of the bedroom, the thin crack of light from the hallway spills across Sarah’s face as she shifts in bed. Her hand reaches out groggily for John B’s side of the mattress but it’s cold, the blanket already slipped down. She frowns, eyes cracking open. The room is empty. She sits up slowly, bare feet brushing against the wooden floor as she hears something, voices, muffled and low. She moves toward the door, careful and quiet, pressing her fingers against the edge to ease it open a little more. JJ’s voice filters through, tense and tight.
"She was pregnant… and she went to him?"
Sarah freezes as JJ's voice drifts through the house once more,
"My sister went to Rafe fucking Cameron...?"
The words hit her like a gut punch- Pregnant? Y/N? And...- Rafe? Her blood runs cold as the pieces start to click together, her brain scrambling to make sense of what she’s just heard. Her cheek stays pressed firmly into the door frame in attempt to hear the rest of the story spilling past the blonde boy's lips.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sheets are soft, the pillows even softer, but sleep still won’t come. It’s been two and a half hours and Y/N's been tossing and turning, her body sore in all the wrong places her chest heavy with that familiar awful ache that won’t go away no matter how tightly she pulls the sheets around her.
Eventually, she gives up and sits up slowly, pushing the comforter off her legs, the cotton whispering against the mattress smoothly. Her feet touch the floor which is cold against her skin and she stands- wobbly for a second- then steadier. The guest room door looms quietly ahead and she pauses fingers brushing over the handle. Then, with a shallow breath, she opens it. The hallway outside is dark, but not completely. There’s a bluish tint filtering in from the tall windows at the end of the hall, early morning light just beginning to rise casting long shadows across the wooden floors.
She pads down the hallway barefoot, arms wrapped tightly around her own middle. Her steps falter when she sees a photo on the wall- framed in gold and hung just opposite the railing of the stairs. It’s of Rafe, much younger, standing with Sarah and Wheezie, arms slung around them, all three of them caught in time. She stares at it for a long second her lips parting just slightly. There’s something in her chest that clenches and she swallows it down before continuing on.
Rafe’s door is slightly cracked- just like he said it’d be. She stands in front of it for a moment and peers in, watching the rise and fall of his breath from across the room. He’s asleep, facing away from the door, lying on his side with one arm tucked under the pillow. Her hand brushes the door open a little wider and she slips inside moving quietly like a ghost. She stops at the edge of the bed and for a moment she doesn’t move.
Just stares at the empty space beside him.
Then- almost without thinking- she climbs under the covers. The sheets are warm where his body had heated them prior and she tucks herself into the bed, it feels so- natural. She hesitates again one breath, two... and then-
she shifts closer
Her body curls gently around his back, and her arm shakily slides over his waist, face tucking into the space between his shoulder blades. She closes her eyes and exhales against the fabric of his t-shirt clinging to the feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered. His breathing is steady- peaceful.
He doesn’t stir.
And for the first time all night, she feels something close to calm. Not happy but… safe. Like maybe the pieces of her won’t completely shatter if she stays like this just a little longer. Her fingers clutch gently at the hem of the bottom of his t-shirt, her eyes fluttering closed. And then so soft it’s almost not there at all, her lips brush against the fabric at his back as she whispers- like a confession, like a secret only the night should hear.
summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: this is mad cause I said part 2 would take me a while but that message motivated me so here part 2. BAHHAAH. this is gonna be a series so if you'd wanted to be added to the taglist lmk!!! okay p3 will now officially take me a bit of time (this may be a lie idk).
warnings: mentions of alcohol, rafe topper and kelce being rude af
The midday sun hung high in the sky, casting golden rays over the manicured lawns of the country club. Y/N adjusted the tray in her hands, balancing a margarita and beer as she approached a familiar table near the patio. Mr. and Mrs. Harris, long-time members, sat comfortably, the older man flipping lazily through the club’s newsletter while his wife fixed the diamond bracelet on her wrist.
“There’s our favourite girl”
Mr. Harris greeted her with a knowing smile as Y/N set down their drinks, “Tell me, sweetheart, did you hear about the chaos at the Lewis’ fundraiser last weekend?”
“Oh, no way- what happened?”
Y/N forced a light chuckle, tucking the tray under her arm. Mr. Harris leaned in, delighted to have an audience to entertain their gossip, “Their youngest daughter got caught sneaking around with that auto repair boy. Can you imagine? In front of everyone…”
“That must have been quite the scene.”
Y/N bit back her smile from spreading too widely across her face. Rich people drama never failed to entertain. Mrs. Harris flashes her a warm smile, taking a sip of her margarita- the diamond bracelet around her wrist catching the light as she thanks the girl for her beverage. Y/N’s eyes catch on the jewelry, and before she can stop herself, she hums in appreciation.
“That’s gorgeous,” she says, nodding towards it.
“Is it new?”
The older woman practically beams, lifting her wrist to give Y/N a better look. “Oh, you noticed! Yes, it was a gift from Reggie,” she says, casting a pointed look at the older man in front of her, who merely chuckles and shakes his head. Y/N teases lightly, hand coming out to pat his arm,
“You spoil her, sir,”
“Only because she lets me”
Mr. Harris says with a wink, making his wife laugh as she waves him off playfully. As Y/N picked up their empty plates placing it on her tray, from the corner of her eye she watched as Mr. Harris pulled a crisp fifty from his wallet and tucked it onto her tray.
“For keeping us entertained.”
“You’re too kind Mr. Harris, enjoy your drinks!”
Y/N accepted it with practiced ease, flashing a grateful smile as she turned away. Making her way back toward the bar, she spotted Sofia behind it, stacking glasses. Y/N made her way over, letting out a sigh as she leaned against the counter.
“You’re their favorite,” Sofia comments, smirking as she nudges Y/N’s arm. “They practically light up when they see you.”
“Please, they just like that I actually listen to their gossip.”
Y/N snorts, leaning against the counter for a brief second before swiping a cool glass of water. Sofia hums, her tone teasing.
“That, and you’re a kiss-ass.”
Y/N gasps dramatically, placing a hand over her chest, “Excuse me, I provide an excellent guest experience? Some of us have to work for our tips, Miss ‘My Customer Just Slid Me a Twenty for Smiling at Him.’”
“What can I say? I have a very approachable face Y/N.”
Sofia grins, shrugging as she picks up her tray. Y/N rolls her eyes but laughs anyway, feeling a brief moment of normalcy in the otherwise long day. They’ve been working side by side for years now, Sofia being one of the only reasons Y/N hasn’t completely lost her mind at this job.
“So, what’s our bet for today?” Sofia asks, lowering her voice as they both glance around the club’s patio area. “Who’s going to cause a scene first? My money’s on Calloway- she’s already on her second mojito- and she asked for a double.”
Y/N bites her lip, pretending to consider it, “Tempting, but I think Jacobs is gonna start yelling at the golf caddies again.”
“Hmmm” Sofia considers before she smiles, “Loser buys dinner from the wreck after our shift?”
“Go on then”
Y/N grins, picking up her own tray just as a new table waves her over. As she walks away, she hears Sofia call out, “Hey, if the Harrington's try to marry you off to their nephew again, let me know- I wanna watch this time!”
“As if they’d mix their pure blood with a dirty Pogue.”
Y/N jokes as she glances over her shoulder with an amused smile. Sofia bursts out laughing, nearly spilling a drink off her tray. Y/N just shakes her head, biting back a smile as she heads to her next table.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two girls had slipped away from the chaos of the bar, taking refuge in the quieter space near the staff lockers at the back of the club. The noise from the restaurant faded, replaced by the hum of the kitchen and the occasional sound of clinking dishes. Sofia leaned casually against one of the lockers, a playful smile stretching across her face as she crossed her arms.
"So..." Sofia started, her voice light and teasing as she glanced at the girl, "tell me… who's got your attention these days?"
"Nothing to tell, Sof"
Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes with a small smile. Sofia raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying into her friend's deflection of the conversation. "Come on, there's gotta be someone. Or are you too busy with all the rich Kook’s checking you out at the club?" Y/N let out a dry laugh, her expression shifting to a bit of an eye roll.
"Please. They only like me when I'm serving them drinks, Sofia."
"Well, why not date one of them?" Sofia teased, her grin widening.
"I mean, might as well elevate the Pogue name, right?"
Y/N couldn’t help but snort at that. "Yeah, maybe you can do that first," she shot back, a teasing glint in her eyes. "I'm too busy trying to make money right now."
"Whatever. But you know you can talk to me, right?"
Her tone shifted, softening just a bit. There was a concern in her eyes that Y/N wasn’t used to seeing, a genuine care that made her hesitate. She’d known Sofia for ages- she was basically her best friend. Yet she could never bring herself to tell her about her problems as she knew the girl had burdens of her own. Y/N’s smile faltered for a moment, and she glanced down at the floor, fighting the subtle shift in her mood. After a beat of silence, she forced the smile back.
"Yeah- but I’m fine."
"You know you can’t lie to me, right?"
Sofia studied her carefully, then leaned in with a knowing look. Y/N chuckled, though it was light and forced. She shrugged, brushing it off with a quick wave of her hand.
"Don’t worry about it. Really."
Sofia lingered for a moment, looking at her, her smile soft and understanding, she didn’t push further though, sensing that the girl wasn’t ready to open up. The brief silence between them was interrupted by the sudden buzz of Y/N’s phone in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing down at the screen. The name on the caller ID made her relax a little- JJ. Without thinking, she answered the call, her tone shifting instantly to something lighter.
"Hey, Jay. Everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, everything’s great!" JJ’s voice came through the phone, a familiar mixture of excitement and laughter in the background. "I just wanted to uh- check in. How’s the shift going?"
Y/N smiled softly as his voice flooded through the small speaker of her cracked up phone, "Same old, same old- serving drinks and pretending to care." JJ laughed, the sound of music and voices rising in the background.
"Sounds fun- uh anyways, I need a little favor." Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly, "What’s up?" There was a brief pause before Jay’s voice grew a little more pleading,
"Uh, I was wondering if I could borrow some money?"
Y/N’s stomach tightened at the request, but she was already too familiar with this routine. She groaned lightly, her hand coming up to rub her eye, and she couldn't tell if it was from irritation or from exhaustion.
"JJ..."
"Please Y/N, you know I’ll pay you back! I’m literally begging you on my knees right now- but you can't see cause well you're on the phone but uh- Hey Pope! Come take a picture of me man-"
Despite herself, Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile at his stupid behavior. She shook her head, the playful warmth in her expression impossible to hide as she rested her chin on her hand, arm being propped up on her knee as she sat on the small bench near the lockers.
"You’re not real."
"So, you’ll help me out?"
JJ asked, practically bouncing through the phone. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t resist. "Fine. Go home, go into my room, and in the back of the cupboard under the bottom shelf, there’s a small jewelry box with flowers on it. Open it and you’ll find cash in there."
"YES- yes okay, I love you sis, you’re the best"
JJ’s voice immediately brightened and Y/n could hear a chorus of ‘thanks Y/N!’ being called out from around him, and she didn't need to think hard to guess who they were coming from. Y/N smiled softly, her heart lightning just a little.
"Yeah, yeah. Don’t blow it on something stupid, okay?"
"I promise- Thanks!"
He replied, and the line went dead with a click. Y/N sat there for a moment, staring at the phone in her hand. She could feel Sofia’s eyes on her, watching with that quiet understanding that only a real friend could have. After a moment, Y/N let out a breath, rolling her eyes as she tucked the phone back into her pocket and Sofia’s voice called out to her,
“He’s not paying you back.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N walked back toward the bar with Sofia, her fingers idly flipping onto the page of her writing pad. She lets out a breath as she approaches her next table, scribbling down the table number as she speaks, eyes still lowered. "Hi, I'm Y/N, I'll be your server—" Her tone drops as she finally looks up. "—tonight."
Jesus Christ.
Are you serious?
Sitting at the table, looking like they own the place, were Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. All three of them already smirking, like they’ve been waiting for this exact moment. She straightens her posture, pen tapping against the notepad.
"What can I get you guys?"
"I dunno," Topper hums, leaning back lazily in his chair, arm crossing and eyes darting down to the menu on the table.
"What do you recommend?"
"The menu is right in front of you Thornton"
She deadpans. She knows exactly what they’re like, thinking of the smallest things to make her life more difficult as if working a 12 hour shift wasn't enough. Kelce snickers, while Rafe just watches her, eyes practically burning into her.
"Mmm, yeah, but, like, what’s good here?" Topper presses, tapping the menu against the table like it’s a drum. Y/N clenches her jaw, her patience thinning by the second.
"Everything is fine."
"Fine? That’s not reassuring" Kelce says, shaking his head teasingly, "I think we need a little more detail Y/N."
"Are you actually going to order, or are you just gonna waste my time?"
She grits her teeth, looking at the three of them expectantly. Topper raises his brows, amused at her small outburst.
"Damn, someone's in a mood today- you on your period or what?"
"You’re making it worse," she mutters under her breath, flipping her notepad open again. Rafe finally leans forward, elbows on the table, drawing her attention whether she likes it or not. "I’ll take a burger," he drawls, "medium rare. No pickles, extra onions. And make sure the fries are crispy, not soggy." Kelce hums, “I’ll do the same” then he sits up slightly like he’s just remembered something, "Oh, yeah, and no tomatoes on mine. Actually- no, extra tomatoes. But, like, not too much. And ranch on the side." Topper drums his fingers against the table.
" I think I want the chicken or- nah, maybe the steak. Is the steak good today?"
Y/N stares at him blankly as the three of them ramble at her, her wrist hurting a little from scribing their over complicated orders down furiously down on the notepad.
"You think I cook the food?"
"Fine, fine. Chicken. But if it's dry, I’m sending it back."
Topper just grins as he shoves the menu in her direction. She exhales sharply through her nose, taking the menu that was seconds prior shoved into her face.
"Is that all?"
"How about a smile, hmm?"
Rafe tilts his head, eyes practically devouring the irritation on her face as he lifts his drink to his lips, his voice smooth, "not very welcoming are you." Her grip tightens on the menus in her hand. For a second, she debates telling him exactly where he can shove them- but she can't. Not here, not in uniform, not at her actual job. So instead, she forces out a tight, practiced smile, her teeth clenched behind it.
"Better?"
"Drop the attitude too"
Rafe smirks, tilting his glass towards her. Her smile drops immediately. She spins on her heel before she can stop herself from rolling her eyes, making her way back toward the bar to place their orders. She makes it back to the kitchen, her jaw tight as she punches in the obnoxiously complicated order. The machine beeps as she keys in the final modifications- extra ice in his lemonade, but not too much, a lime wedge, not a lemon, sauce on the side of Kelce’s plate but not in a separate dish. She exhales sharply, rolling her shoulders before spinning on her heel to head back to the floor. She’s barely a few steps out when she collides with someone. A clatter fills the air as metal cutlery spills across the floor, scattering in every direction.
"Oh my god, I’m so sorry!"
Y/N blurts out, slapping her hands over her face before immediately dropping to her knees, helping the dishwasher- who looks just as startled as her- to gather the mess. The entrance to the kitchen is already chaotic, the sound of orders being called, plates being stacked, and oil sizzling only adding to the overwhelming noise. Her cheeks burn, humiliated, as she hurriedly stacks the forks and knives back onto the tray. She doesn’t even have to look up to know she has an audience. From across the room, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce sit at their table, watching it all unfold. Rafe has a slow smirk stretched across his lips, a lazy amusement glinting in his eyes as he leans back in his seat. He’s eating this up- seeing her flustered, on her knees, scrambling to pick up silverware like it’s the most humiliating thing she could be doing.
“What a klutz”
He says as he watches, head tilting slightly, gaze locked on her flushed face as she hurries to her feet, murmuring another apology to the dishwasher before brushing her hands off on her apron.
Now balancing two plates in her hands, Y/N strides back to the table, keeping her expression neutral despite the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. She carefully places one dish in front of Rafe, the other in front of Topper, before Kelce leans back in his chair, arms crossed.
"Uh, where's mine?"
"I only have two hands"
Y/N says, voice tight. Rafe tsks, shaking his head, "Talking to him like that- reeeealll unprofessional."
Her eyes snap to his, burning with frustration, but she swallows down the urge to say something she’ll regret. Instead, she presses her lips into a thin line before spinning on her heel, marching back to the kitchen. She snatches Kelce’s plate from the counter with a little too much force, returning to the table and placing it in front of him. He doesn’t even bother to say thanks- typical.
“I need tomato sauce”
Topper pipes up, waving a fry lazily in the air. Y/N exhales sharply through her nose but nods. “Sure thing.” She turns back toward the kitchen retrieving the sauce, and places it in front of him. Topper barely acknowledges it before adding,
“Actually, I also need ranch.”
She forces a pleasant hum, her fingers gripping her notepad as she walks off again. She can feel their eyes on her back, the smug expressions radiating from the table. Grabbing the next bottle from the kitchen, she strides back out, setting it down a little harder than necessary.
“Oh, and mayo?”
Topper asks just as she’s about to leave. Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek, forcing a neutral expression. She exhales slowly, then pastes on a saccharine smile.
“Will that be all, Topper?”
“Sure thing babe.”
He grins, winking at her. Y/N turns stiffly, heading back to the kitchen, but from the corner of her eye, she catches Rafe reaching under the table, slapping his hand against Topper’s with a smirk. They’re all laughing quietly, thoroughly enjoying their little game at her expense. Her blood simmers, but she forces herself to keep moving, keep smiling.
Just a few more hours.
Just a few more hours?
The night had already drained her, but the final straw came in the form of a screaming toddler at table five. His mother looked exhausted, his father seemed more interested in his phone than the mashed potatoes his son had just flung onto the floor, and Y/N had been the unlucky one stuck cleaning it up. She crouched down, scraping the mush off the floor while the mother muttered a halfhearted apology. Y/N only nodded, brushing it off, but by the time she was back on her feet, her patience had worn dangerously thin. Now, balancing a tray of drinks, she made her way toward another table when a sharp whistle cut through the air and her head snaps around.
Rafe.
Sitting there, completely at ease, his smirk carved deep into his face as he tapped at the expensive watch on his wrist, she clenched her jaw. God, she hated him. Still, she forced herself to finish up at the other table, dumping their drinks off quickly before she had no choice but to approach him.
"Are you done with your meals?"
She asked flatly, not bothering to sound sweet anymore. She was tired, her shift was almost over, and she just wanted to go home. She reached out, grabbing their plates, stacking them with ease as she muttered,
“I’ll get you the bill—”
“—No. We’d like some drinks actually.”
Rafe cut her off smoothly. Her grip tightened around the plates, but she forced her lips into something resembling a smile. “Sure, what can I get you?” She flicked open her notepad, pen poised, waiting.
“A beer.”
Rafe said easily, his eyes dancing with amusement. Kelce and Topper rattled off their orders- both opting for a whiskey. She jotted it all down, lips pressed into a tight line She returned a few minutes later, balancing the drinks on a tray as she weaved through tables. Her feet ached, her patience had now become nonexistent. Sure enough, the moment she set Kelce’s whiskey down, he scoffed.
“What, did you brew his beer yourself? Took you long enough.”
Y/N said nothing, pressing her lips together as she continued placing the rest of the drinks down. Topper leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.
“Are you gonna apologize for our inconvenience?”
Her eye twitched, but she plastered on the fakest, most saccharine smile she could muster. “I’m so sorry for your inconvenience,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “It won’t happen again.” Rafe only hummed, reaching for his beer, but before he could even take a sip, his face twisted in displeasure, eyes focused on the pint glass in front of him.
“What is this?”
She blinked, “Your beer?”
“Yeah, who the fuck poured this?”
He lifted the glass, examining it like it personally offended him. The foam had settled at the top, maybe a little too much, but it was nothing dramatic. Y/N fought back the urge to roll her eyes- she very clearly isn't the bartender.
“I don’t pour the drinks—”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he cut her off.
“Go get me another one.”
Her nails dug into the palm of her hand as she turned on her heel, biting her tongue to stop herself from snapping at him. She took the beer back to the bar, inhaling deeply as she watched the bartender pour a fresh one, and by the time she made it back to the table, she was barely holding it together. She placed the new beer in front of him, her fingers itching to just throw it at him, but she forced herself to keep it together. Rafe lifted it to his lips, took a sip, then frowned.
“This shit is warm. Are you serious?”
“I just told you, I’m a waitress, I don’t pour your drin—”
“Cut the fucking attitude, alright?”
Her jaw clenched so tight it hurt. She could feel her manager watching from the bar, could see him keeping an eye on the interaction, and she knew if she said anything back, she’d be the one in trouble, because everyone who worked at the club knew that - the customer is always right.
“Get me another,” Rafe said, tilting his head, eyes locked on hers, that same cocky smirk playing on his lips.
“And don’t make me send you back again.”
She reached for the glass, barely restraining herself from throwing it at his head. Rafe leaned back in his chair, eyes still on her.
“Or are you too dumb to do that?”
Kelce and Topper sniggered beside him. Y/N forced her lips into a fake smile letting out a small hum at his words, grabbing the beer and spinning on her heel.
She was going to lose her fucking mind.
When she came back, her jaw locked so tightly it ached, she was surprised her teeth hadn't fallen out yet. She didn’t even bother to mask the anger burning in her eyes as she slammed the beer down onto the table, the liquid sloshing over the rim and splashing onto Rafe’s lap. His head snapped up, his jaw clenching, eyes darkening with irritation.
“Oops”
She said, voice laced with mock innocence. Rafe pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor as he shot up. Before she could step away, his hand snapped around her wrist, yanking her closer.
“What the fuck are you playing at huh Maybank?”
His grip was firm, fingers digging into her skin just enough to make it ache. She could sense the two other boys gazing at them amused, speaking in hushed murmurs. Y/N yanked at her arm, glaring up at him but his grip around her didn't loosen.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick—”
He scoffed, his breath fanning against her face as he leaned in slightly, grip tightening. She refused to flinch, refused to give him the satisfaction, even though her pulse was hammering harshly in her ears. Then, his voice dropped, lowering into something only she could hear.
“I think you’re forgetting what I know hmm... bunny?”
She froze as the word passed his lips, eyes flickering over his face. Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, his thumb pressing against her wrist.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmured, “So stop being such a little bitch and—”
“Is everything okay here?”
Her manager’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, and Rafe immediately let go, his expression shifting in an instant as he turned to face them. “Oh yeah, man,” he said, all faux innocence. “Just had a little spill, didn’t we?” Y/N was still stiff, her wrist burning where he’d grabbed her, but she forced herself to clear her throat, nodding quickly.
“Yeah- um, yes. I was just going to get some tissues.”
Her manager gave her a lingering look, as if trying to assess the situation, but eventually just nodded before walking off. Rafe sat back down, picking up his beer as if nothing had happened. Y/N exhaled sharply before stalking off to grab some napkins. When she returned, she slapped them onto the table, using one to wipe up the spill on the surface.
“Clean it up, Maybank.”
“What do you think I’m doing, Cameron?”
Rafe grinned at her evident distress, leaning back in his chair as he watched her. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he snapped his fingers in front of her face a few times and pointed down at his lap, where the beer had splashed onto his trousers.
“I said, clean it up.”
Y/N let out a sharp scoff, eyes narrowing at him in pure disgust. Rafe only smirked, leaning back leisurely in his seat. He lifted his hand, fingers tapping against the side of the cold beer glass, which now had a small ring of condensation pooling around it.
“You want me to call your manager hmm?”
She could feel the heat of Topper and Kelce’s stares, the way they were barely holding back their laughter, waiting to see what she’d do. Her fingers curled around the napkin in her hand, nearly tearing it in frustration. But she contemplated her next move- she realised she didn’t have much of a choice.
Not with the leverage he had over her.
Biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted copper, she forced herself to move forward, lowering herself slightly as she brought the napkin to his lap, pressing it against his upper thigh. The fabric was damp beneath her fingertips soaking into the tissue, and she felt the way his leg tensed slightly beneath her touch. Rafe didn’t shift away though- no, he only watched her, his lips curled in satisfaction as she dabbed at the wet patch on his trousers.
She hated him.
Hated the way he was enjoying this. Hated the way her skin prickled with embarrassment, the heat of his gaze locked onto her every movement. Then, just as she started to move her hand up slightly to cover the rest of the spill, his voice dropped into something condescendingly smooth.
“Wrong job, princess.”
Her head snapped up, and for a moment, she just stared at him, her expression twisted with nothing but pure, seething hatred and Rafe just smirked, tilting his head at her like he was daring her to really react.
“Go get me my bill”
Y/N clenched her fists so tightly she swore her nails would break skin. But she didn’t argue. Didn’t snap back. Because she couldn’t afford to. Because if she stepped out of bounds one more time, she didn't want to know what he’d do with the ‘information’ he had. Without another word, she turned on her heel toward the bar to retrieve the check, her hands trembling with the effort of restraining herself. Then she came back with the bill, placing it down on the table without a word. She didn’t wait around for them to check it, didn’t even spare Rafe another glance as she turned and made her way straight back to the bar. Sofia was already there, leaning against the counter, watching her approach. As soon as Y/N let out a long breath and dropped her head into her hands, fingers pressing against her temples, Sofia raised an eyebrow.
“What’s Rafe got against you?”
She asked, voice light but laced with curiosity. Y/N just exhaled, shaking her head slightly as she mumbled,
“I don’t know.”
Sofia clicked her tongue, watching Rafe over the girls shoulder, “He’s an privileged Kook living off of his daddy’s money. Don’t let him get to you, Y/N.”
Y/N only hummed in response, too drained to say anything else. Instead, she watched as Rafe got up, tilting his head back as he downed the rest of his beer in one go. Topper and Kelce were already heading toward the door, pushing past a couple of other customers on their way out, but Rafe lingered for just a second longer.
And then he turned with that look.
The one that sent a slow, crawling chill up her spine. His eyes locked on hers, dark and unreadable, amusement still tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knew something she didn’t. Like he enjoyed getting under her skin. Y/N didn’t waver. Didn’t blink. Just stared back at him, her expression twisted with nothing but pure hatred.
Rafe smirked.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked out after his friends. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, rolling her shoulders slightly as she straightened up. A minute passed before she finally made her way back over to their empty table. It was a mess- napkins shifted across the table, now empty glasses with rings of condensation staining the wood. And in the middle of it, the small, folded wallet that held their payment. Y/N reached for it, flipping it open, eyes scanning over the receipt. Her lips parted slightly,
The total: $150.
She glanced at the stack of bills tucked inside- multiple fifties, covering the full price of the meal. And then, nestled between them, a single one-dollar bill. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a pit of frustration already bubbling in her stomach, but when she shifted her gaze lower, she saw the note. Written in the same blue ink as the receipt, scrawled in lazy, careless handwriting:
Drop the attitude, Bunny.
And at the bottom of the final receipt, where the tip amount had been written in: Y/N stared at it for a long moment, jaw clenching, the paper crinkling slightly between her fingers as she tightened her grip.
summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: well bazinga. here we are- I'm loving you guys all fangirling over rafe and bunny cause they're such cutie patooties. But happiness is not for free, so I'm really really sorry about this one- I hope ya'll can forgive me. (and rafe) (idk if I can)
warnings: angst :(, alcohol, smoking, weed, violence, fights, drunkenness, rafe being a little bitch
The air is heavy with the lingering warmth of the day, the sky streaked with dying gold and violet as Y/N steps out the back exit of the country club. The low hum of insects fills the silence, broken only by the soft scrape of her boots against the pavement. Her shoulders are tired, the strap of her bag crumpled in one hand, and she taps her phone screen with the other, the glow casting light across her features, a new message flashing on the screen.
JJ : Lost my charger again
JJ. : Its okay tho cuz I took yours
JJ : I'll give it back
JJ : (I won't)
A laugh spills quietly from her lips, soft and genuine. That familiar feeling of warmth spreads through her chest at his messages. It'd been a few weeks since she'd come back from Charleston- since JJ had finally got a job. And she had to admit he was trying, really trying, so now their long awkward conversation which ended with deafening silence had eased in to sweet and stupid messages and playful banter which filled the walls of their bedrooms once more. Her fingers typed out a reply—
Y/N : u better u loser
She places the phone into her pocket and glances up- and then stops dead in her tracks. Her car’s parked at the far end of the staff lot, right where she left it but what she didn’t leave, was the sleek black Range Rover sitting beside it, the glossy paint catching the orange hues of the setting sun. She stiffens immediately, scanning the lot, no one around and her steps towards her car quicken. The driver’s side door opens, and Rafe steps out, tall and unbothered, his hands in the pockets of his dark jacket, and there’s that stupid smirk playing on his lips. Her heart jumps straight into her throat. “Rafe—” she hisses under her breath, marching toward him with panic in her eyes.
“What the hell are you doing here?!”
He lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug, voice low and smooth, “What? I can’t come see you?”
“Not in the staff parking lot,” she snaps in a hushed whisper, “Do you want someone to see you? What if someone from inside walks out—”
“Relax”
He says gently, stepping forward and before she can argue more, his hands are at her hips, warm and familiar, tugging her closer until her body is brushing against his in the narrow space between the cars. The proximity knocks the air from her lungs. Her hands instinctively rest against his chest, palms flat over the material of his t-shirt where she can feel his heartbeat, steady and calm beneath her fingers.
Hers? Not so much.
“There’s no one around...”
He murmurs, head tilted down as he looks at her, his voice softer now, velvety and coaxing and her breath catches. She should push him away. She should tell him this is reckless, stupid, dangerous. But his scent- musky and alluring- clouds her thoughts. And his touch, just the lightest press of fingertips against the small of her back— is so familiar now, so comforting in its own twisted way. And she hates that it’s comforting. Her fingers twitch against his chest. She finally manages a whisper her words stubborn,
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know,” he says, and there’s the smallest hint of a smile in his voice as he leans in just a fraction closer, breath ghosting against her temple.
“But I wanted to be.”
She rolls her eyes with a long, exaggerated sigh, but her lips betray her- tugging upward at the corners, betraying the way he’s already wormed his way into her mood.
“We’re gonna get caught”
She mutters under her breath, glancing toward the dark stretch of the staff lot like someone might materialise from the shadows. The words barely leave her lips, soft and hurried, like they know better than to draw attention. Rafe just smirks, tilting his head down slightly, his chin angling toward her as he closes the few inches left between them.
“Not if you kiss me quick”
He says, voice low and roughened with amusement. Her eyes squint in a playful glare, head pulling back a fraction.
“You’re so annoying.”
But her body leans in all the same.
Her fingers find the soft t-shirt, curling into the fabric without even thinking. She rises onto the balls of her feet, just barely, and presses a kiss to his lips. It’s quick and light—barely a brush. Just a flicker of warmth, like a secret passed between two people in the dark. As she pulls away, his face follows hers- like his lips are trying to chase the kiss she’s already taken back. He doesn’t even think about it, just dips forward slightly, a greedy edge in his movement. She breathes out a small laugh, pushing against his chest with a single finger. “Nope,” she says, her smile widening.
“I'm hungry.”
"Yeah well so am I"
He lets his hands slip from her hips with a groan that’s more for show than anything, head rolling back as he leans against the hood of his car. She just shrugs, the inuendo lost on her ears as she adjusts the bag on her shoulder.
“You’re such a tease Bunny”
He drawls and she snorts, already turning on her heel to head toward the trunk of her car.
“I don’t know what you mean Cameron.”
Her fingers make quick work of the car key, popping the trunk. She grabs the rolled-up apron resting on top her bag and tosses it in alongside her worn-out tote bag, the whole thing collapsing into a pile on top of an old hoodie and a dented water bottle. The sound of the trunk slamming shut echoes across the empty lot. Spinning back around to face him, she crosses her arms and leans her weight into one hip, chin tilted up with that same little smile that drives him crazy.
“You really wanna get caught by one of your little Kook friends out here with me?” she teases, cocking a brow. “Have to explain why you’ve been slumming it with a Pogue?”
His smirk twitches- just a smidge. For the briefest moment, his expression shifts and something softer creeps into it. Something a little more sincere. His gaze lingers on her face longer than it should and then flickers back down to her lips before returning back up again.
“Wouldn’t care if they did”
He says simply, a quiet shrug rolling off his shoulders as if he means it, as if it's the simplest answer in the world. It catches her off guard- freezes her for a beat. Her mouth opens, then closes again but she recovers quick, brushing it off with a scoff and a roll of her eyes.
“You’re so full of shit.”
But even as the words leave her lips, there’s a faint flicker of something else behind her voice- something almost moved. Something she doesn’t want to name because it’s been a few weeks since that night.
A few weeks since she tilted her milkshake to her lips and he wiped the sweet drip from her skin with his thumb like it meant nothing. Since he kissed her like he’d been holding back for months and she melted into it like her body had been waiting on that exact moment to exhale. And since then? It’s been a series of late-night meet ups that feel like a secret thread connecting them. Not the kind that spun in lies—but the kind too delicate to speak aloud. The kind you carry with careful hands and quiet hearts in fear of it snapping. Every night, after her shift ends and the world turns quiet, she finds him waiting. Always parked in the back corner of some parking lot—headlights off, music low and she slips into the passenger seat without a word, throws her bag in the back, kicks off her shoes, and leans over to kiss him like she’s been holding her breath all day.
The kisses are slow at first. Always. A shared pause. But then they tip into something deeper, heavier—like they’re trying to memorise each other without crossing any lines they haven’t drawn out loud- but it never goes further than that. His hands stay respectful, if not reverent- one cupping her jaw, the other braced on the back of her seat or tangled gently on her waist, on her hip, in her hair. Her fingers clutch the hem of his shirt like a tether, holding on but not pulling him in any closer than he already is.
There’s a quiet fire, always simmering, but neither of them dare feed it too much. Neither of them dare ask what they are. It’s easier this way. Safer. They stay pressed into the quiet hum of those car rides, the warmth of shared fries, the heat of stolen kisses in the dark, and the steady, unspoken beat of something they’ve both grown addicted to but don’t yet understand.
Rafe leaned against the top of her car, forearms braced over the roof like he had all the time in the world. The late golden hour sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the near-empty staff lot behind the country club. His eyes squinted slightly from the light, jaw sharp as ever, that casual grin tugging at the corner of his mouth “What’s your hurry today, huh?” he drawled lazily, peering down at her with a teasing glint.
“You extra hungry or what?”
Y/N huffed, already halfway into the driver’s seat of her little beat-up car, one leg in, one out, “No asshole- I just don’t want anyone to spot us, okay?”
Rafe chuckled under his breath, the sound low and unbothered. He shrugged one shoulder and pushed off the car just enough to stretch lazily.
“It’s not a big deal.”
She snapped her head up to look at him, her tone sharper now, “Yeah, actually Rafe—it is a big deal. Because if JJ finds out—”
“I know”
He cut in, dragging a hand over his jaw, irritation flashing in his eyes. “If JJ finds out, he’ll be mad. Whatever. I get it, okay? No need to tell me again.”
The words hung between them for a second, heavier than either wanted them to be. The silence wasn’t angry- but it was tense. The same argument they hadn’t quite had, bubbling beneath their stolen moments. He stood there now by her open car door, his figure blocking some of the sunlight, casting a soft shadow over her where she sat inside the car. From where she was, her eye level landed right at his belt. Her gaze softened a bit, guilt tugging at her gut. Then her hand came up, absent-minded and almost sheepish, her fingers catching on the loop of his jeans. She played with it lightly, tugging once. A peace offering. His eyes flicked down to her hand, then to her face, jaw still tight. She asked quietly, tilting her head up at him with a playful sort of pout, brows lifted just a touch.
“You mad..?”
“No,” he replied, voice low. “Why would I be mad?”
She shrugged, still toying with the denim loop, “I dunno. I thought—” she cut herself off, shaking her head a little, “Doesn’t matter.”
Rafe didn’t press. He let it hang, then gave a soft hum, looking around the lot- empty still, save for their two cars and the rustle of wind through the nearby trees. “So,” he drawled, rocking back slightly on his heels.
“We going to get something to eat or what?”
Y/N brightened a little, grateful for the pivot. “I’m feelingggg…” she stretched the word dramatically, “Chinese?”
He smiled at that slightly, nodding, “Chinese sounds good.”
“Cool,” she said, pulling her legs fully into the car now, “I’ll meet you there then?”
He gave a small nod, “Yeah… yeah.”
But she could tell- by the way he paused before turning away, by the way his fingers twitched at his side- that he was still holding onto a bit of a grudge. He hadn’t gotten his kiss, not a real one. And that wounded pride was showing, even if he tried to hide it behind his nonchalant façade. She rolled her eyes with a soft exhale- who would have thought Rafe Cameron was so needy?
Reaching up, she curled her fingers into the front of his T-shirt, tugging him gently back down toward her, guiding him until he bent slightly, face now level with hers. His breath hitched, eyelashes fluttering as he leaned into her touch. She kissed him then- firm, but warm. Just enough to melt that sulking tension in his brow. His lips moved against hers with a soft hum, his hand bracing on the edge of her door as he leaned in a fraction more, savouring it. When she pulled back, his eyes were still half-lidded, lips parted like he wanted to chase her mouth again.
“You done now, you baby?”
She murmured with a crooked smile, eyes teasing but fond. Rafe’s smirk returned, slow and smug. “Yeah,” he murmured, straightening up,
“I’m done now.”
And with that, he backed away from the car, hands in his jacket pockets like he hadn’t just been melting under her touch. She watched him retreat toward his car, her heart doing that dumb little flutter it always did lately, it lingered in her chest. Just as his door swung open, he looked back over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.
“Don’t forget the egg rolls.”
She rolled her eyes and started her car.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The quiet hum of the radio filled the space between them, the soft crackle of music soothing after a long day. They sat there in the dim light of the car, the smell of Chinese food mingling with the fresh evening air that drafted in through the slightly cracked window. Y/N leaned back against the seat, her legs tucked up beneath her as she dug into her takeout container. Rafe sat beside her, elbow propped up on the door, his free hand reaching for his food, the sound of plastic utensils scraping against the containers faint in the otherwise still air. Rafe asked, his voice low as he finally broke the silence, his eyes flicking over to her as he stuffed a piece of chicken in his mouth.
“How was work?”
“It was… okay”
Y/N muttered, chewing before she continued, eyes shifting away from him for a moment, “Had this asshole customer... one of your friends actually.”
“One of my friends? Who?”
Rafe’s brow furrowed, his gaze narrowing slightly in curiosity as he put his food down. Y/N rolled her eyes as she leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression calm despite the frustration in her voice.
“That guy Brett? The one you hang out with sometimes. Total jerk.”
“Why, what did he do?”
Her expression tightened as she recounted the experience, “he kept clicking his fingers in my face like I was some kind of dog, and whenever I went over to his table, he called me ‘waitress’ like I’m not even good to have a name? God he was so patronising.”
“He really did that?”
He asked, disbelief creeping into his tone, jaw clenched. Y/N tilted her head toward him, not missing the change in his expression.
“Yeah, why? You don’t believe me?”
“No” He muttered, his voice hardening a little as he picked up his food again, his hand gripping the chopsticks tighter than necessary.
“I believe you.”
He took a bite, chewing slowly as he fought the frustration that was rising inside him. A small silence settled between them, the only sound the soft clinking of their chopsticks against the takeout containers. Rafe didn’t like that she had to deal with people like that, didn’t like it one bit.
“What’re you doing tomorrow?”
He asked, his voice casual, but something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Y/N turned her head slowly toward him, her expression soft but guarded as she mumbled,
“Working.”
Rafe blinked raising an eyebrow, “It’s Saturday…?”
“Yeah, and?” She shrugged, taking another bite of her food, her voice low and almost dismissive. “I’m broke, Rafe. I’m always working.”
His eyes darkened again as he placed his food down with a soft clink, his fingers tapping against the lid of the container. He wasn’t about to let this go- he hated it, and they both knew it. He took a sip of his drink, the cold liquid hitting his throat like a jolt, but it did nothing to cool the fire that was building in him. He put the cup back in the cup holder with a sigh, his voice quieter but still firm.
“I don’t see why you can’t just take a break. You don’t always have to work.”
“We’re not having this conversation again Rafe.”
Y/N’s eyes flickered over to him, her face hardening slightly as she gave him a pointed look. He frowned, the words heavy in the air.
“Look, I get that maybe you think it’s embarrassing to accept my—”
“If you keep talking about this,” she interrupted, her tone sharper now, “I’m getting out of your car.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, taking in the shift in her expression- the quiet defensiveness there, the exhaustion she was trying to hide. He didn’t want to push her too hard, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. He paused, the weight of her words sinking in, then gave a short, almost defeated nod, like he was choosing to back off of the subject for now. Y/N didn’t say anything in response, her eyes softening as she turned back to her food, the brief tension hanging in the air like smoke. She had already given him her answer. She had already drawn the line before, and Rafe knew he’d have to respect it—for now. The silence that settled between them wasn’t heavy but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. Just... quiet. Their takeout containers were nearly empty now, the scent of soy and spice lingering faintly in the car, blending with the low hum of music still playing in the background. Y/N had reclined her seat a bit, one leg tucked up under the other, the other stretched out, socked foot resting against the dashboard. Her shoes sat forgotten on the floor, and a soft breeze drifted in through the cracked window, brushing gently against her skin.
Rafe glanced over at her, his arm draped over the back of her seat, thumb idly brushing the seam of the leather. She looked content, even if a little tired- hair slightly messy from the day, lashes casting soft shadows across her cheekbones as she stared out at nothing in particular. He liked seeing her like this, unfiltered.
“There’s a party tomorrow night”
He said suddenly, voice quiet but breaking the lull between them. He reached forward, placing his empty cup in the holder before leaning back again, tapping a slow rhythm on his thigh. She turned her head lazily, brows knitting together slightly.
“A party?”
He nodded, “One of the beach houses on Figure Eight. Bunch of people’ll be there.” He paused, then looked over at her, expression unreadable.
“You should come.”
“Me?”
Her head lifted a little more now, blinking at him like she wasn’t sure she’d heard that right. “Yeah.” He gave a slow shrug, feigning casual, but his eyes were locked on hers, watching closely.
“I’m gonna be there...”
“Since when do you want me showing up to a Kook party?”
Y/N sat up slightly in her seat, feet slipping from the dashboard and landing softly on the floor. He smirked lightly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Since now.”
There was a beat of silence, then another. Her gaze searched his face, trying to find the catch—but there wasn’t one. Just Rafe, looking at her like he didn’t care if the whole island had something to say about her. She asked, voice lower now, almost testing him.
“You serious?”
“Yeah- I am.”
He leaned a little closer, one arm still draped along the back of her seat. Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, watching him, chewing over the offer in her mind. The idea of being in that world with no responsibilities- even just for a night- felt risky. Foreign. But something in the way he was looking at her made it hard to say no.
“I don't know Rafe... I’d stick out like a sore thumb besides people will talk-”
"-people always talk”
He shot back cutting her off slightly, amused as she frowned slightly, arms crossing tighter as she shook her head a little.
“This is different. You know it is.”
Rafe tilted his head thinking deeply, but didn’t press her just yet, “Your friend’s gonna be there,” he said instead, voice smooth as ever.
“My—what? Who?”
“Sofia, right?”
He squinted slightly and Y/N straightened a little, her mouth dropping open at the mention of the girls name.
“Sofia’s going?”
“Yeah.” He was smirking now. “That guy she’s been seeing? The new Kook on the island? He’s the one throwing it.”
“She hasn’t told me that,” Y/N muttered, staring at him.
“Well.” He turned more toward her, resting his elbow against the console and tapping the edge of her thigh with his fingers playfully.
“Looks like you’re not the only one with a dirty little secret.”
She let out a shocked laugh, eyes widening at the words passing his lips before narrowing her gaze at him as she shoved his shoulder back, playful but not gentle,
“You’re such a dick, Cameron.”
He only grinned, letting her shove him- indulging in the feeling of her touch even if momentary. Y/N gave a little scoff and turned away, but her smile lingered. A beat of silence passed over them before she spoke out, “Fine,” she said, like it pained her to admit it.
“I guess I can… think about it.”
“Think about it?” Rafe echoed with mock offense, sitting up straighter, “Seriously?”
“Mhm.”
She didn’t look at him this time, just smirked and reached down to close her container, the sound of clicking plastic filling the car. She then bent over placing it down on the floor, and as she sat back up Rafe leaned in closer again, slower this time, the tip of his nose brushing her jaw before his lips followed. He kissed the curve beneath her ear, then slowly worked his lips down the side of her neck.
"Maybe I can persuade you to come hmm...?"
“You’re such a perv”
She mumbled through a grin, her hand finding his chest and giving him a half-hearted push. He pulled back slightly, lips acting from her skin as he muttered,
“So… still a no?”
“Fine... I’ll come.”
She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile that betrayed her. Rafe sat back accomplished as he spoke out, “Knew you'd give in.”
“But,” she added, wagging a finger at him. “You’re not glued to me all night, okay? Or people will notice.”
“Relax. We’ll keep it lowkey.”
He gave her that cocky, lopsided grin again and before she could snark back another smart-assed comment, he hit the button on the side of his seat. With a low mechanical whir, his chair reclined all the way back, and he stretched out like a king- arms behind his head, t-shirt rising just enough to show a sliver of his toned stomach. Then he patted his thigh, smirking.
“So… where were we?”
Y/N shook her head, heat prickling her cheeks as she shifted toward him again, “You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, but her knees were already crawling across the seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun had long dipped below the tree line now, and the soft golden wash of string lights gave the Chateau its usual hazy, warm glow. A lazy summer night settled in with the gentle hum of cicadas in the distance and the low bass of music crackling from the old speaker propped up on a makeshift crate. Everyone was sprawled out in their usual places- Cleo had her legs kicked up on the railing, passing a blunt between her fingers, while Pope leaned back in one of the rickety lawn chairs, letting the smoke curl from his mouth toward the night sky. JJ was stretched across the hammock, shirtless of course, balancing a beer on his chest while making some offhand joke that had Kiara snorting into her drink. John B sat on the edge of the porch, Sarah curled comfortably in his lap, her fingers absentmindedly threading through his messy hair as she hummed along to the music. Then, like she suddenly remembered something juicy, Sarah’s voice piped up.
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you guys.”
Everyone’s eyes flicked toward her lazily, half-baked or halfway drunk. JJ raised an eyebrow, already skeptical. “There’s this party tomorrow night. One of the beach houses on Figure Eight — some rich kid’s throwing it. But I got the invite,” she emphasized with a little smirk, twirling a lock of her blonde hair,
“which means you guys can come too!”
There was a collective beat of silence, then came the chaos.
“A kook party?” Pope made a face. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Hard pass”
Kiara chimed in, swirling what was left in her cup. JJ sat up a bit in the hammock, giving Sarah a look of exaggerated offence, “Sarah — my best friend’s dearest girlfriend — why the hell would I willingly put myself in a room full of kooks with their Vineyard Vines shirts and trust funds?”
“Kook fest? I don't think so- rude boy's got a point."
Cleo added, completely unfazed. Sarah groaned dramatically, tossing her head back against John B’s shoulder, “Guys, everyone on the island’s been invited. Literally everyone. You want to miss the one time we can sneak in and drink their expensive-ass booze and pretend to be civilised?”
John B scratched the back of his neck, “I mean… Sare, are you sure this is a good idea? These things usually end in someone getting arrested or beat up.”
“That’s what makes it fun,” she shot back smiling up at him, “Come on, baby...”
JJ shook his head with a mock sigh, “I do love chaos, but I also love not getting decked by some pastel-wearing rich boy with a superiority complex.”
“C’monnn,” Sarah pleaded, eyes bouncing between them all. “Free booze. Loud music. Rich kids being embarrassing. You telling me you wanna miss that?” JJ glanced around, took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like he was warming up to the idea.
“Free booze, huh?”
“Like actually free”
Sarah said, perking up as she nodded her head. Kiara sighed before adding to the ongoing debate. “Okay I guess if we go in a group, it’s not like they can kick us all out.”
Pope laughed, “That’s comforting.”
“So it’s decided then?”
Sarah asked, clapping her hands and JJ leaned back with a smirk.
“Eh why the hell not.
The chatter faded back into that familiar haze- the music a little louder now, the clinking of glass bottles, occasional bursts of laughter echoing under the soft glow of the porch lights. JJ had flopped dramatically back into the hammock, tossing a peanut at Pope, who swatted it away with a sharp “cut that out”, but he was grinning as he said it. Kiara and Cleo were side by side, passing the blunt like it was a baton in the slowest relay race known to man, and Sarah was still curled into John B, nose buried in his neck as she murmured something that made him laugh under his breath. Then the crunch of gravel under tires caught their ears- a car rolling up toward the end of the drive, headlights slicing through the trees. Everyone instinctively turned to look, and when the engine cut and the door swung open, a familiar silhouette stepped out.
“Y/N!”
Sarah called out instantly, lifting her hand in a wave. JJ was already in motion. He practically leapt out of the hammock with a lopsided grin on his face, his movements loose and full of that buzzed joy that lived in him when he was around his people. He jogged toward her, arms wide like he was about to tackle her. Y/N had barely rounded her door when JJ crashed into her, arms circling tight around her waist and lifting her a few inches off the ground in a twirling hug. She let out a breathless laugh, one arm instinctively hooking around his shoulder.
“Jay, are you drunk?”
“Yes ma’am”
He said proudly, nuzzling his nose against her cheek like a sleepy golden retriever. John B called out from the porch, raising his beer in salute.
“And high!”
“Wow what a responsible crowd I’ve joined.”
She looked past JJ and shook her head smiling, JJ grinned and still half-latched to her side laced his fingers between hers and started tugging her toward the group.
“Welcome, my dear sister, to the finest motive on the island.”
“Yeah, it looks so lit”
Y/N snorted as she said dryly, eyeing the half-deflated pool float on the lawn and Kiara using a stick to fish a beer bottle cap out of the fire pit. Pope looked up and offered her a beer, cracking open another one.
“You want?”
“Nah, I’m driving.”
She shook her head, raising a hand politely. JJ was still practically glued to her back, and now his chin came to rest on her shoulder, his head leaning sleepily against hers like gravity had chosen her specifically. She glanced sideways, her voice softening.
“You okay, mister?”
“Right as rain”
He murmured, words muffled against the collar of her white work polo. Y/N smiled to herself and brought one hand up to gently pat his cheek, a small fondness in her eyes. She dropped down onto the worn-out quilt Pope had stretched across the grass, tucking her legs beneath her and setting her keys in a little pile beside the cooler. The smell of bonfire smoke and salty air clung to everything, and the mellow strum of a guitar looped in the background from someone’s Bluetooth speaker. The Chateau felt hazy with summer warmth and low buzzed laughter, like time didn’t really exist here.
“Y'missed blondie trying to backflip off the porch railing”
Cleo said, raising her eyebrows at the girl, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth as she handed her a cold bottle of water. Pope snorted from where he sat beside her,
“More like he tripped, flailed, and then landed face-first into the lawn chair. Truly a work of art.”
“Sounds about right.”
Y/N laughed, tilting her head back slightly as she wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “Y/N!” Sarah suddenly perked up from where she was comfortably curled up on John B’s lap, her legs stretched out across the blanket and her fingers idly threading through his curls.
“I almost forgot to tell you- we’re all going to a party tomorrow night. You have to come”
“Oh—uh…”
Y/N hesitated for a split second. Shit. Rafe had already invited her out tomorrow- there was no way she could show up two places at the same time. She furrowed her brows thinking of a quick excuse, “I don’t think I can,” she said slowly.
“Sofia asked me to cover her shift tomorrow night. Late shift.”
The groans came instantly.
“Noooo” Kiara moaned out in disappointment. “Again?” Cleo frowned as she spoke, “Girl, you’re always working.” JJ leaned up, pulling a dramatic face as he sat up behind her, one hand propped on the ground and the other pointing accusingly.
“Y/N- my sweet, overachieving sister. You never go out.”
“I do go out!”
“When?!” JJ countered, hand waving wildly, “Name one time that we went out that didn’t involve grocery shopping or pretending not to cry while pumping gas for my bike cause you can't afford it.”
“JJ, please,” she groaned, rubbing at her forehead the others watching the small sibling quarrel, “Sofia never gets nights off. I have to fill in for her.”
But even as she said it, her mind was moving. What if I go to Rafe’s first? Just for a bit. Then come late, no one would know, they're on different sides of the island. She knew it was risky but- it was worth the risk if it meant getting her brother off her back. She sighed, trying to keep it casual.
“Where is it anyway... maybe I can stop by before it ends.”
Sarah perked up instantly at the question, “New guy just moved into this insane house on Figure 8- I’m technically on the guest list, so by extension, that means all of you get to come.”
Y/N froze.
Her stomach sank, it’s the same party. Her chest tightened like a fist was forming right behind her ribs. The same one Rafe is going to and now… JJ would be there. All of them would be there. She forced a tight smile, heart beating a little faster and her throat closed up slightly. She can’t go. She can’t risk it—JJ seeing her with Rafe? No. Absolutely not. That would ruin everything. He’d lose it. He’d probably have a fit and if he didn’t, the look in his eyes would be worse. She felt herself retreat inward for a split second- like her body was still sitting there on the blanket, but her mind was miles away, spiralling in panic. Then- she forced it back. Forced her lips into a smile, stretched just wide enough to pass as real. She said, voice smooth,
“I’ll see if I can make it”
“Yeah?”
JJ looked over at her, suspiciously squinting, she nodded without hesitation.
“Maybe just for a bit.”
Even as the lie came out of her mouth, her brain was already racing. Y/N cleared her throat softly, still gripping the now half-empty water bottle in her hand. Her eyes swept across the group lounging lazily on the worn blankets and cushions sprawled out on the overgrown lawn.
“I actually think I’m gonna head back now”
She said, standing up slowly and brushing the bits of grass and twigs from her shorts, “Just came to check up on you guys.”
JJ looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged now on a faded beach towel, lips wrapped around the neck of his beer bottle, and gave her a lazy, crooked smile. He winked, blonde hair a windswept mess.
“Mission accomplished sis.”
She rolled her eyes at him, amusement flickering behind her lashes, and bent to grab her keys from the little crate they’d been using as a table.
“You coming back or staying the night?”
She asked, giving him a look as she nodded toward the house, her tone light but a little pointed the role of big sister coming naturally. Before JJ could even open his mouth to respond, John B was already groaning dramatically from the other side of the blanket. “Take him,” he said, flopping his head back against the tree behind him.
“Please. I don’t want him here. He eats everything and he talks in his sleep.”
Sarah burst into laughter in his lap, her whole body shaking with it as she nearly spilled the beer in her hand. “He really does! The other night he mumbled something about raccoons with spatulas.”
“That was one time!”
JJ threw his hands up like he was being framed for a crime. Y/N just bit back a laugh, fighting back a grin watching the chaos unfold with fondness. JJ tilted his head, smirking toward her. “And just because of that,” he said smug as hell,
“I shall be staying the night here. With Mr. John Booker Routledge.”
A round of exaggerated groans erupted from the rest of the group. Y/N laughed under her breath, her fingers still gripping her keys as she shook her head fondly at them. “Alright, alright,” she said,
“Have fun then... don’t get too smashed.”
“No promises!” Kiara called out with a wide smile, raising her can in salute.
“Speak for yourself,” Pope muttered. “I have dignity unlike some.”
That earned another laugh from the group.
Y/N smiled again, softer this time, eyes briefly flicking back to her brother. He caught her gaze and shot her a lopsided grin, one that still looked more boyish than he probably intended. It made something ache a little in her chest- an affection threaded with worry she’d never admit out loud.
“Night Jay”
She murmured before reaching over to ruffle his hair messily. He smiled her lazily before flopping back onto the blanket like a man who had no thoughts, no responsibilities, and no idea that his sister was walking a tightrope he couldn’t see. Y/N turned, the noise behind her fading into the hum of summer insects and music humming from the portable speaker, and walked back to her car,
The car door creaked softly as Y/N pulled it open, the familiar weight of it grounding her just a little. She slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door behind her with a muted thunk, the quiet inside the car swallowing up the laughter still drifting from the Chateau. The engine wasn’t running yet, and the warm evening air clung to her skin like a second layer. It smelled like sun-warmed leather and pine needles.
For a moment, she just sat there. Her fingers hovered over her bag before she reached in and pulled out her phone, the screen lighting up as soon as her thumb brushed the side. No new messages. Just the same old wallpaper of a blurry sunset and the faint glint of her own reflection staring back. She hesitated and her thumb hovered over the screen for another beat- then tapped into her messages.
Rafe
The name alone made her chest tighten a little. She bit down on her lower lip, chewing at the soft skin absently. Her other hand reached up to pull her hair away from her face, then fell limply against her lap. The inside of the car felt like it was shrinking. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, a sharp whisper into the quiet. She tapped the messages open. Leaning her head back, she let it fall gently against the headrest, eyes blinking up at the roof of the car as she let out a long, tired sigh. Her fingers rested against the phone in her lap, before tapping her fingers against the screen.
She started typing. Hey, change of plans. I might not— Backspace. No. Too vague so she tried again. Something came up— Backspace. Her heart thudded in her chest, slow and heavy. Then she typed with more finality this time:
Bunny : I'm sorry but I can't do tmr
She stared at it. Read it once. Then twice. Then, with a small exhale that she couldn’t quite tell was relief or regret, she hit send. The text shot off into the thread, disappearing into that blue bubble like a stone dropped into deep water. She locked her phone again, let her head fall back against the seat, eyes fluttering closed. Her lips pressed into a line. Maybe that’s for the best, she told herself. Maybe-
Buzz.
Her eyes snapped open. The screen lit up and she unlocked it quickly, thumb tapping into the thread without thinking.
Rafe : what why not
Short and blunt. Her stomach twisted, that anxious little knot curling a bit tighter as her thumbs moved again.
Bunny : Your sister’s going to be there which means JJ’s gonna be there
She sat there, holding her breath like it’d keep her heart from thudding so hard. The typing bubble appeared instantly, three dots bouncing like they knew what they were about to say was going to matter more than it should.
Rafe : so what?
Of course, she thought bitterly, jaw tightening. But before she could respond, another message popped up. She blinked, stunned by how he could sound so calm about something that made her whole chest tighten.
Rafe : Why is that a problem
Bunny : It’s a problem cause he’ll see us
Her fingers tapped harder this time and her hand trembled slightly as she held the phone. She hated this—how tense it made her. How she had to think of all the possible consequences when Rafe didn’t even seem to care.
Rafe : are you serious
Bunny : Yes I’m serious wtf do u mean???
Her reply came before she could even second-guess herself but then… nothing. No bubble, no typing dots and her eyes flicked to the corner of the screen at the bottom. Read. That was it? He read it and then disappeared. A dry laugh escaped her lips, more disbelieving than amused. She pushed her palm against her forehead, trying to will away the creeping frustration crawling beneath her skin.
Rafe : You’re really gonna let your brother control us
Bunny : He’s not controlling us
Rafe : Well he’s controlling this.
Her teeth sunk into her lip again, harder this time as the message made her fingers still. She stared at the words, something bitter blooming behind her ribs. Then she typed, slowly, like the question had been sitting on her tongue for a while- because it had.
Bunny : What is this
Bunny : What even is 'this' Rafe?
Read
The air in the car felt heavy now. Thick with silence and words that would never be spoken aloud. She watched the screen for a beat. Then two. Then five. The beats turned into a minute but still there was no response from him so her fingers moved again of their own accord.
Bunny : seriously
Bunny : Leaving me on read are you being for real
Bunny : Hello?
Still.
No answer.
Her mouth twisted into a scoff, this one sharper. Less disbelief and more hurt. She leaned her head back against the seat, her knuckles white where she clutched the phone. She could feel it bubbling now- not anger, not really. Just… disappointment. That familiar ache that curled into her chest when something started to crack and she knew she couldn’t fix it. Her lips pressed into a thin line and she typed one last time.
Bunny : Grow up Rafe
Then she dropped the phone into the empty cup holder with a soft clack and her hands came up, pressing into her face, covering her eyes. She let out a breath- long and slow and quiet. She didn’t even know what this was anymore, or what she wanted it to be.
All she knew was that it hurt.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bass was thumping hard enough to make the floorboards vibrate. Music roared from massive speakers set up on the back patio of the mansion, spilling into every corner of the sprawling beach house like a pulse. The crowd was thick—Kooks and Pogues alike stood packed shoulder to shoulder, laughing, grinding, shouting over the noise. Red solo cups littered the deck, the grass, the kitchen counters. Half-empty bottles of liquor sat abandoned on tables, the scent of alcohol and sweat clinging to the humid air. Inside, the lighting was low and tinted gold, shadows dancing as bodies moved through the house, more people flooded through the front door- new arrivals, drawn in by the promise of booze and the thrill of recklessness that always hung thick in the air.
Rafe was in the middle of it, standing near the table on the backyard patio where a lineup of liquor bottles had turned into a makeshift bar. His button-down was half undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, collar a little askew. He reached for another shot, his fingers curled tight around the glass rim as he knocked it back, throat bobbing as the burn slid down. “Bro,” Kelce said, squinting as he leaned forward, voice slurred with the edge of tipsy concern.
“I never do this but- maybe slow down a little”
“That’s like, your seventh” Topper added from where he was slouched against the couch, a beer dangling between his fingers.
“You good man?”
“I’m fine”
Rafe muttered, his voice low, gruff, and not even remotely convincing. His jaw flexed as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his damp forehead. He didn’t look at either of them as he spoke but he wasn’t fine. Not even close. His head was heavy, the alcohol catching up to him in a sluggish crawl through his limbs. He could feel it in his slow, unsteady blink. In the weight of his shoulders, in the way the music felt a little too loud, a little too sharp.
She wasn’t here- Y/N wasn’t here.
And he hated that it mattered. Hated that he kept glancing toward the front door every time someone new walked in- just in case she'd changed her mind. Hated that he could hear her voice in the back of his mind. “I can’t go, your sister’s going to be there” ... “JJ will be there” ... “He’ll see us.” His jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, the burn of the liquor lingering in his chest. She was always so damn concerned about JJ, about keeping him in the dark- about keeping them in the dark.
Like this is all some secret she needs to protect.
Topper was saying something again, laughing about a girl he’d hooked up with last weekend, but Rafe didn’t hear it. He was staring at the countertop, where drops of clear liquor beaded on the marble surface. His hand was still fisted around the empty shot glass. He looked like a storm waiting to happen- cheeks a little flushed, eyes shadowed and distant, lip twitching at the corner in a scowl. But under it all, he was sulking. Quietly. Bitterly. Like a kid who didn’t get what he wanted.
And all he wanted was her.
The rumble of the Twinkie pulling up was swallowed by the thump of music echoing off the walls of the massive house. Lights flashing inside spilled through the tall windows in bursts that lit up the manicured lawn and the stretch of cars already jammed up along the curb. The Pogues piled out- John B leading the charge in his usual messy curls with Sarah right on his heels, her blonde hair catching the light like a halo. JJ slammed the passenger door shut with his hip, shoving his hands into the pockets of his loose cargo shorts, eyes flicking over the crowd on the lawn before following- Pope, Kiara and Cleo weren’t far behind.
The house was huge. Open floor plan, high ceilings, the kind of kitchen you only saw on cooking shows. People were everywhere—on the stairs, pressed against walls, spilling onto balconies. It smelled like weed and citrus vodka, and someone in the hallway was definitely already throwing up. “Damn,” John B muttered as they walked in, eyebrows raised.
“This place is nice.”
“No shit”
Pope said, already eyeing the built-in speakers in the ceiling. Cleo let out a low whistle and made a beeline for the massive kitchen island, where liquor bottles and mixers lined the counters like a buffet. She said with a grin, snatching a bottle of rum and starting to pour,
“The free alcohol is even nicer”
“Now this is why I dragged you guys here..’.”
Sarah laughed, reaching over to help herself to a half-mixed drink and Kiara grabbed a couple of plastic cups, handing them around. The music rattled the cabinets, the floor under their shoes vibrating faintly in time with the beat. People were dancing in the next room, someone yelling something about beer pong from the backyard, but the Pogues took a moment to regroup in the kitchen. JJ stood a bit apart from the group, back braced against the counter, swirling whatever was in his cup without really drinking it. His hat was pulled low, hair curling beneath the brim, and there was a little pinch between his brows that hadn’t faded since they arrived. Kiara noticed first. She nudged him gently with her elbow, tilting her head toward him.
“She’s not coming then?”
JJ blinked, not catching the question right away over the music.
“Huh?”
“Y/N- she’s not coming?”
Sarah repeated, louder this time, looking up from her drink. JJ’s expression tightened for a split second, and he looked down into his cup like it suddenly had answers. “Nah,” he said, voice clipped.
“She’s not.”
There was something in the way he said it in a short and flat tone, a little irritated like he didn’t want to care, but he did. Kiara gave a small nod and didn’t press. Instead, she reached out, rubbed his arm gently with her hand before stepping away to help Pope crack open a bottle of something suspiciously blue. No one said anything else. But in the middle of the crowd, under the flashing lights and the pounding bass, JJ stood a little stiller than the rest. Eyes drifting toward the front door they'd came through like maybe- just maybe- she’d still show.
Rafe shoved his way through the backyard, the lights and thumping music cutting through the cool air like a heavy pulse. He could feel the tension in his chest, the tightness that hadn’t loosened since their texts earlier... "What is this"... That question had been eating at him ever since because he didn't know what it was. But that didn't change the fact that his mind kept circling back to her. The way she made him feel, how easy it was to talk to her, how easy it was to just be around her- it wasn’t like anything he'd ever experienced. And it scared him. Because he wasn’t the kind of guy to get tangled up in feelings, he didn’t do that. But Y/N, she was different- it unsettled him. He couldn’t admit that to her, though. Couldn’t let her know that she was getting under his skin, into his bloodstream like a drug, that she was getting too close.
By the time he made it through the crowd and into the kitchen, he was ready for another drink, maybe more than one. The sound of glass bottles clinking and people chatting loudly barely registered in his mind as he reached the counter, eyes scanning the chaos for what he needed. He was almost there, his hand reaching for the first bottle of vodka, when he collided with someone.
Thud
He didn’t even flinch, just kept moving forward until he heard a sharp, annoyed voice.
“Excuse me?”
Rafe’s shoulder had shoved into Sarah, causing her to stumble back just a little. She glared up at him, her eyes narrowing with irritation. He didn’t care and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for small talk with her.
“You’re excused”
He muttered back, not even bothering to meet her eyes as he grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap off.
“Asshole”
Sarah muttered under her breath, clearly unamused, but Rafe wasn’t listening. He poured the liquor into his cup with a steady hand, watching the clear liquid slosh into the glass. The burn in his throat might’ve been the only thing that could numb the frustration gnawing at him. He downed it in one go, feeling it course through his body. Rafe stood near the edge of the kitchen, the alcohol still burning in his stomach as he surveyed the crowd. The noise was becoming a dull roar in the background, a blur of laughter and shouting, but his mind was still running on autopilot. He tried to focus on his drink, twisting the glass in his hand, but then something caught his ear.
JJ
He was talking to John B, and it didn’t take long for Rafe to hear the frustration in his voice. JJ’s words carried across the room, loud enough for Rafe to pick up on.
“I don’t get it bro”
JJ was saying, his voice edged with something close to bitterness already lightly slurred from the alcohol he consumed since they arrived, “Y/N’s always working. Always dude. It’s like- I literally got a job so she could work less? And she still can’t make time for anything. Not for me. Not for us. She's always got some lame ass excuse.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened at the sound of JJ’s voice, and he instinctively stepped closer to the conversation, the growing frustration in his chest gnawing at him. He watched as JJ’s face twisted, anger bubbling up in his expression.
“She’s never around anymore. Like, she’s always somewhere else, doing something else. It’s like she doesn't care- You know what? Maybe it’s just me she doesn’t want to spend time with maybe I’m just a fucking inconvenience to her.”
John B shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable, but he didn’t know how to respond. He just nodded slowly, not really agreeing or disagreeing as he brought his beer bottle to his lips. Rafe’s pulse spiked. His chest felt tight, and for a moment, the room seemed to narrow around him. His fingers tightened around the glass until his knuckles went white.
He was angry.
No, he was beyond angry.
He could feel the heat rising in his body, but it wasn’t just because of JJ’s words. It was the way he was talking about Y/N, so dismissively, so coldly. The kitchen was still a chaotic blend of chatter and clinking glass, the music vibrating through the floor, and the air thick with alcohol. But his mind wasn’t on the drink anymore. It was on her—on Y/N. On the way she would slave away all day in her shitty job only to go home to a brother who wasn't even grateful? He could hear JJ’s voice cutting through the noise of the house, loud and full of venom. Rafe turned, just in time to catch the words.
“Acting like she’s such a good fuckin’ sister,” JJ spat, his words as he gestured around. “When she can’t even take the time out of her day to talk to me. It’s a fuckin’ jok, man..”
John B was still next to him, leaning against the counter, his eyes tired, clearly not wanting to get involved in the growing tension. But he let out a soft sigh and said,
“Come on, man. You’re being a little harsh she does a lot for you-”
“-No. I’m not,”
But JJ wasn’t having it. His face twisted into a mix of frustration and bitterness. “She doesn't give a damn about anyone but herself," he snapped, his voice louder now.
"She’s a shitty fuckin’ sister.”
Rafe could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest. He was barely holding it together at this point. His hand clenched around his glass, and without thinking, he pushed himself away from where he was and made his way towards the blonde haired pogue,“Hey-” Rafe’s voice was rough, his jaw tightening,
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth.”
JJ didn’t even hesitate as his brow furrowed, his head snapping toward Rafe, his eyes narrowing. The smirk on his face was all cocky arrogance, like he wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Rafe stood in front of JJ, his fists clenched so tightly around the edge of the counter that his knuckles were turning white. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the alcohol in his system only amplifying the frustration that had been simmering for hours.
"You really think you know your sister?"
Rafe's voice cut through the tension like a blade, each word laced with disbelief and a deepening anger. His gaze was intense, narrowing as he stared down at JJ, his stance aggressive and unsteady from the booze. JJ didn’t flinch, instead, he scoffed, the sound dripping with disdain.
“Yeah, well, what the fuck do you know about her?”
The words were laced with spite, his eyes flashing as he shot back, barely holding back his irritation. He was drunk, way too much to back down. The space between them was closing, both of them leaning in slightly, their bodies tense as if they were about to collide. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes flickered between JJ’s face and the rest of the room. John B was already sighing, rubbing his hand over his face, clearly feeling the impending collision. His tone was a little exasperated.
“Alright, guys... let's not do this tonight.”
But his words were barely a whisper in the whirlwind of tension between JJ and Rafe. They didn't take their eyes off each other. Rafe stood his ground, every inch of his body radiating the anger and frustration he’d been holding back all night. His expression twisted into something cold, nasty, as his voice came out low, almost a growl.
"A lot more than you"
He spat, the words dripping with contempt. JJ’s eyes flared with fury, and before anyone fully processed the insult, his body reacted. Without thinking, he shoved Rafe, a rough, sudden motion that sent the air between them crackling.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
His words were sharp, cutting through the already tense atmosphere like a knife. The crowd around them seemed to gather and the only thing that mattered now seemed to be this confrontation, the two of them standing face to face, inches away from an explosion. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his teeth gritting as he stumbled back just a half-step from the shove. But he didn’t let it slide, his eyes burned with rage, and with a brutal shove of his own, he sent JJ stumbling back.
“Get off me, you dirty fucking pogue”
He snarled, his voice a low rasp. John B and Pope, sensing the situation spiraling, rushed in to intervene, but their voices only seemed to intensify the already-fueled fire.
“Hey, hey—alright JJ stop."
“C’mon man”
John B called out, his tone a mix of frustration and concern, his hand on JJ’s arm trying to pull him back. But JJ, his face red with anger, ignored them, shoving them off as if they were nothing. His eyes were locked on Rafe, his fists trembling with barely contained rage. Sarah, standing nearby, caught sight of the escalating tension and turned to Rafe with an incredulous expression.
“What is your problem?”
She spoke out her voice sharp as he brows drew down into a concerned frown, but Rafe didn’t even glance at her. His attention was fully on JJ, the hate between them palpable. The room seemed to hold its breath, the entire kitchen watching in stunned interest as the two guys stood their postures defiant, aggressive. JJ, unable to take the weight of the situation anymore, spun on his heel and began to turn away, his anger boiling over, his fists still clenched with popes hand on his arm leading him away. But Rafe’s voice, cutting through the tense silence, sliced through the air like a final verdict.
“I pity her for having a brother like you”
He said, the words slow and deliberate, aimed to sting. The room went deathly quiet apart from a few low mutters, and for a split second and the words hung in the air like a curse. JJ froze, his back to Rafe, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. His body went rigid, the hurt flashing in his eyes as he clenched his jaw tighter. Kiara’s voice came through softly, but it was too late.
“JJ don’t”
She pleaded, but JJ had already turned and with a motion of pure, unfiltered anger, he threw a punch, his fist flying straight at Rafe’s face with all the pent-up rage he’d been holding back. The force behind it was hard enough to knock Rafe off balance, and in that moment, the air around them seemed to explode. Everything that had been building up, the tension, the anger, the frustration- finally came to a head.
And just like that, the fight erupted.
The air was thick with the sounds of punches landing, grunts of pain, and the occasional slap of skin against skin. People's previous murmuring had turned to excited yells and cheers, phones being raised as they recorded the ordeal. JJ’s vision was red, every inch of his body screamed as he threw wild punches, each one landing with force, but Rafe was no slouch- he met every hit with a violent shove or a retaliatory strike of his own. JJ's jaw was clenched tight as he pushed against Rafe, throwing a punch that caught him square in the ribs, causing the other man to grunt in pain. Rafe staggered but didn’t fall, instead grabbing JJ’s shirt and yanking him forward with a growl. Their faces were inches apart, both of them breathing heavily, sweat and blood mixing, the scent of alcohol clouding the air. Rafe’s eyes were wild, his face contorted with anger as he bit out the words through gritted teeth, each syllable harsh and slurred.
“If you love your sister so much, why is she always running to me when she’s got problems, huh?”
His grip tightened on JJ’s shirt, pulling him in closer, their faces just inches from one another. His words were cold, bitter. JJ blinked, his mind struggling to process what Rafe just said. His nostrils flared as his nose dripped blood, a line of crimson streaking down his face. JJ’s voice was a low growl, disoriented, the anger still there but replaced by confusion.
“What?”
“That’s what I thought”
Rafe sneered, a harsh laugh falling from his lips, his bloodshot eyes alight with a murderous glint. JJ’s fury surged again, his face lit with rage as his eyes narrowed, locking onto Rafe’s smug expression. Without warning, he launched himself forward, his head connecting with Rafe’s face in a brutal headbutt. The impact was sickening- Rafe’s head snapped back violently, and a grunt escaped him. He staggered back a step, dazed, blood oozing from his busted lip.
Rafe didn’t back down, he shoved JJ with both hands, sending him stumbling back a few steps. The two of them were back at it in an instant, their bodies crashing together, fists flying in every direction. JJ’s elbow connected with Rafe’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Rafe faltered this time, falling backward, his balance compromised. He hit the ground hard, the floor beneath him rattling. For a split second, the fight paused. Rafe lay there, stunned, his chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to catch his breath. But JJ was already on him, a feral grunt escaping his throat as he scrambled to pin Rafe down. He grabbed Rafe’s polo top, yanking him up to his face, his grip like iron. His chest was heaving, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps as he leaned in close, his face twisted in disgust.
“Don’t fucking talk about my sister like you know her- you don't know anything about her- you don't know her like I do.”
JJ snarled, his voice low and seething. His words were laced with every ounce of hurt, frustration, and protective anger he could muster. Rafe’s head lolled back for a moment, his eyes glazed and unfocused from the blows. He let out a drunken, mocking scoff, a bitter chuckle escaping from his busted lips. His mouth was smeared with blood, but the sneer on his face was unmistakable, even through the haze of intoxication. He muttered so only the blonde boy could hear, the words sharp, but somehow quieter than before.
“You didn’t even know she was pregnant”
The entire world seemed to stop in that instant.
JJ's grip slackened, his fingers loosening around Rafe’s shirt and his chest tightened as the words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him in an instant. John B and Pope, who had been trying to pull the two apart for the last few moments, finally managed to tear JJ off Rafe. JJ didn’t resist this time, his body felt stiff like stone, his mind struggling to catch up with what he just heard. Rafe lay on the floor, barely able to lift his head, but his voice, now quieter and almost hollow, drifted through the space between them. “Yeah,” he said, his words slow and deliberate,
summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: Sorry for the cliff hanger guys- but here's the next bit and besides its not like I would leave it on a cliff hanger again- or would I..... ? heh
warnings: angst angst angst, violent behaviour, emotional distress, mentions of past trauma, alcohol, sad!rafe and sad!bunny, luke (he deserves a warning)
The house was quiet and peaceful in a way that felt rare lately. Steam still curled faintly from the cracked bathroom door as Y/N padded barefoot through the hallway, the cotton hem of her oversized t-shirt brushing the tops of her thighs. It clung slightly to the damp warmth of her skin, fresh from the shower, the scent of vanilla soap still lingering on her. The shirt, one of her oldest and most worn-in, read 'There’s no place like the OBX!' in faded, peeling letters. The image of a cartoon sunset beneath the text was barely visible now, rubbed off from years of wear, but it was still her comfort shirt.
The evening had been calm. A rare exhale. She knew it was the right choice, not going to the party, instead choosing to stay at home. No JJ, no Rafe, no tension. Just her alone in the stillness of the house. She yawned softly as she made her way into the kitchen, the tiles cool under her feet. Her hand reached for the cabinet, grabbing a glass, then filled it halfway from the tap, the sound of water the only thing cutting through the silence.
Buzz. Buzz.
Her phone, face-down on the counter buzzed again. She frowned a little, setting the glass down with a small clink and reaching for it. When she turned it over, the lock screen was full, message after message.
Rafe
Rafe : Y/N m s sorry
Rafe : It was a mistake I didn mean iit
Rafe : Im sosorry forgive me
Rafe : Please it was ana ccident
Rafe : drunk an angry it just slipedout
She just stood there, blinking, bare feet rooted to the floor. What? Her thumb hovered over the screen as she scrolled back through the weird messages littering her screen, heart creeping higher into her throat. He hadn’t replied to her at all yesterday left her on read after she asked him the question which had been hanging over both of them for a while now. He'd ignored every message she sent and now this? What the hell was he talking about, it made no sense. Her brows knit as she stared at the screen, glass forgotten on the counter as she held the phone in two hands her thumbs typing out; What are you talk-
BANG
The sound of the front door slamming open ricocheted through the house like a shotgun blast. The walls trembled and the floor vibrated slightly beneath her bare feet. Her whole body jolted—glass on the counter rattling dangerously. Her blood ran cold. She'd not seen her dad in a few days and the possibility of his presence was in her mind, whispered in fear, a lifetime of instinct kicking in. But before panic could really settle, the door slammed shut again, the echo bouncing off every wall like a threat. She turned sharply, heart hammering in her chest and then there he was-
JJ?
Standing in the doorway, chest heaving, shoulders tense and strung tight like he could burst. His face was a mess- nose bloodied, dried and smeared to one side, his lip split, a red flush blooming across his cheek. His blond hair was sticking up in every direction under his crooked cap, disheveled like he’d just been through a war. His clothes hung raggedly on his body almost as though his t-shirt had been stretched out, and he was breathing heavy like he ran the whole way here. His eyes locked onto hers furious, hurt.
Betrayed
He stood there, breath ragged in his chest, eyes locked on her like he didn’t recognise the girl in front of him. Y/N stared back at him, frozen for a moment in the quiet hum of the kitchen. Her phone, still glowing with Rafe’s frantic texts, slipped from her fingers and landed back onto the counter with a soft thud. The sound felt loud in the silence. This was JJ, her kid brother who used to cry when he scraped his knees and she'd bandage them up pressing soft kisses over the bandaids. The boy she taught how to sneak out of the house quietly, her best friend since they were in diapers. Now he looked like someone she didn’t know- bloodied, breathless, and storm-eyed. She took a step around the kitchen island, slow and cautious, like she was approaching a wounded animal. She asked gently, her voice threading with worry, hand outstretched, ready to go to him,
“Are you okay- ”
“-were you pregnant?”
But JJ’s voice sliced through the air before she could take another step and she stopped dead in her tracks. Silence crashed between them. Her hand, still halfway out, dropped to her side like a weight and her stomach churned at the words passing his lips.
“What?”
Her voice was almost inaudible. Caught between panic and confusion, her breath hitched. JJ’s face twisted, all disbelief and frustration, and he took a harsh step forward, his voice louder now.
"Did you fucking get pregnant?"
Y/N blinked, wide-eyed, her lips parting like the words might come—but nothing did. Her body language screamed shock, but inside she was cracking open. Splitting down the middle. Her heart was racing now, mouth suddenly dry. “N-no,” she stammered, voice too quick and certainly too fragile.
“What-? No!”
But JJ wasn’t buying it. He whipped his cap off his head as he raked a hand through his hair, exhaling hard as he turned in a quick, agitated circle, the movement jerky with disbelief. His fingers clenched in his hair before he let them drop and he barked out—
“Don’t LIE to me!”
The words exploded out of JJ like a gunshot, and with it, his hand came down hard crack against the edge of the kitchen table. The slap of skin on wood echoed through the house like a warning sound. Y/N jumped, her breath catching violently in her chest. Her whole body flinched, jerking backward instinctively. Eyes wide, pupils blown and her shoulders curled in slightly, like she'd just taken a hit without being touched. Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears it almost drowned everything else out. She felt cold suddenly, like the warmth of her post-shower calm had been ripped from her body in an instant. The oversized shirt clung to her damp skin, sticking uncomfortably as her breathing turned sharp and uneven “Pregnant?” she echoed, voice airy and brittle. It sounded wrong in the space between them. Like the word didn’t belong to her. Like she was trying to believe she didn’t understand- trying to sell a lie even she couldn’t swallow.
“Who told you this?”
And JJ- he looked like he could rip the whole room apart with his bare hands. She already knew the answer he was going to give her. But she needed to hear it. Needed to pray and cling onto the hope for some other name, any name not—
“Rafe Cameron”
JJ said, voice full of venom. His jaw was clenched so tight it trembled, eyes burning into hers. And then she froze, like a statue carved from ice. Her chest stilled and her hands hung at her sides. There wasn’t a flicker of movement. Rafe? She couldn’t even blink, couldn’t breathe at the sound his name.
He promised
Her fingers curled slightly in toward her palms and she felt like someone had just reached into her chest and squeezed.JJ saw it happen- the way her entire body stiffened, how her lips parted but no sound came. The way her eyes went glassy for just a second.He saw it all and it broke something within him. His voice cracked, a bitter sound ripping from his throat, full of raw betrayal and heartbreak as he whispered,
“Oh my fucking god-”
“-no! No I didn’t get pregnant”
Y/N gasped out, voice cracking like thin glass. She shook her head rapidly, hands lifting uselessly in the air like she could physically push the truth away. But her voice was too high, too shaky. Her eyes were darting everywhere but his, and JJ saw right through her.
“I didn’t—JJ. I-"
“-why are you LYING to me!”
He shouted cutting her off, his voice thundering off the walls as his hands flew into the air in exasperation, then slammed back down at his sides. His eyes were wild, glassy with a cocktail of rage and betrayal.
“Why the are you lying to me?!”
“Jay, please just—”
She rushed, taking a few tentative steps toward him, palms out like she could soothe him with touch alone. Her voice wavered, desperate and pleading. But JJ backed up- away from her. “You didn’t even tell me,” he said bitterly, as if the words physically hurt to say. He let out a strangled scoff, pacing now, stumbling back a step.
“And I’m your brother. I’m your fucking brother Y/N.”
Her eyes welled. Her lips trembled because it was happening. Exactly what she’d feared- her worst nightmare made real in their own kitchen, beneath the harsh light, peeling tiles and abandoned glass of water. “Please,” she whispered again, voice breaking down completely now.
“JJ please—”
But he was already unraveling- crashing out. He paced along the kitchen, dragging a hand down his face, his cap was long abandoned on the kitchen island as he dug his fingers into his hair and tugging like he needed to physically hold himself together. His mouth was hidden behind his hand now, muffling a harsh, trembling breath. He was doing everything he could not to lose it. But then, his hand lashed out and swept everything off the corner of the kitchen island. Bills, letters, receipts, all of it went crashing to the floor in a loud flurry of paper and crumpled envelopes.
“You went to Rafe?”
He yelled, voice splintered and feral as he rounded on her again, pointing now— accusingly. His entire face contorted with disbelief, “You went to Rafe Cameron for help?! The same piece of shit who’s tormented us for years- who’s ruined our lives- what the fuck is wrong with you?!”
His finger stabbed the air in her direction, jaw clenched so tight his teeth could’ve cracked. His breathing was loud, heavy. He looked like he was barely staying inside his own skin and Y/N snapped suddenly,
“Don’t raise your voice at me”
She bit out, her voice cutting sharp and fast, almost instinctive. Her chest was heaving now, flushed with fury and panic. Her hands were curled into fists at her sides as her eyes locked with his, finally locked with his. “You have no fucking idea what I’ve been going through JJ. None of it,” she seethed, her voice shaking just beneath the surface, laced with pain that was months in the making.
“You don’t know how hard it’s been trying to make a decision I never asked for in the first place!”
And just like that, the kitchen went still. The broken silence crackled in the air between them like electricity after a lightning strike- both of them breathing hard, standing in the wreckage of papers, secrets, and everything they haven't said to each other in the past months. JJ’s voice cracked on the question,
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
It wasn’t loud anymore. It wasn’t angry. It just… broke. Like something inside him had split clean down the middle. His arms, once tensed at his sides, dropped uselessly as his shoulders sagged. Like all the fight had drained out of him in one breath. Y/N stood stiff on the other the island opposite him, the space between them feeling wider than the whole room. Her breath hitched as her eyes dropped to the floor, shoulders curling inward like she was bracing for impact.
“JJ, I don’t know, I just—”
“Do you not trust me?”
He asked, suddenly, voice low but guarded. She looked up fast, her eyes wide, lashes still wet. Her lips parted like she was about to speak but forgot how. Like she’d been caught somewhere between guilt and fear. She said, voice tight, chest rising with a shaky inhale,
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Yes. Yes, it is what this is about—”
“I DO trust you!”
She burst out, loud and raw, like she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her hands shot out as if reaching for something she couldn’t quite grasp. She was breathing fast now, visibly trembling, like the admission had cost her something. JJ stepped forward a half-step, hands curling into frustrated fists at his sides. His jaw clenched hard, eyes narrowed, flickering with that familiar mix of hurt and fury.
“Well you don’t act like it”
He said, bitter, almost defeated. He threw his hands up like he was done trying to understand. “Jesus…” he breathed, taking two slow steps back. Y/N rubbed her face roughly, wiping away a tear with the heel of her palm, her fingers shaky. Her mouth opened- then shut again, her brows drawing together in a helpless knot. JJ let out a breath so heavy it sounded like it hurt. Then his hand dragged through his hair, gripping the back of his neck like he needed to ground himself. He looked her dead in the eye,
“Was it his?”
The question struck her like a slap. She went completely still. “...What?” she whispered, barely audible. The word trembled in her throat, her head jerking slightly like she couldn’t believe he’d actually said it. JJ’s eyes burned, his mouth twisted into something between a grimace and a sneer.
“Was it his, Y/N? Was it Rafe’s?”
Her mouth opened again, but no sound came out. Her legs carried her one step back, like the sheer weight of the question shoved her there. Her arms folded across her chest without her realising it, protective. Defensive.
“How can you even ask me that—”
“What else do you want me to think, huh?” JJ’s voice climbed again, every word sharper than the last, “You won’t fucking tell me anything! You kept this whole thing a secret from me like I’m just some... some nobody—”
“JJ—”
“Was it his?”
He snapped again, louder, like saying it might finally make the pain in his chest make sense. His chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy and erratic. He looked like he was burning up from the inside.
“Was it his, and that’s why you ran to him, why you told him before you told me?”
“Stop-stop it— how dare you even think that—”
“Well you’re sure as hell not giving me a lot of reasons not to!”
The shout ripped from him like a gut punch. He slammed the heel of his palm down on the counter once more as the last word left his mouth, she flinched hard at the sound, instinctively taking a step back like it could steady her pulse.
BANG
The front door slammed against the wall with a hard thud, rattling the frame in its hinges as Luke stumbled inside, the scent of cheap bourbon clinging to him like a second skin. Both their heads whipped toward the entrance to the house, eyes wide. The air in the kitchen turned thick with silence, frozen with tension as JJ's chest heaved and Y/N didn’t move. He blinked blearily at the two of them from the hallway, swaying just slightly, his jaw working unevenly as he tried to focus.
“What’s all this fuckin’ yelling?”
His voice was slurred, low and accusatory, slicing through the thick silence like a rusted blade. Y/N’s body stiffened immediately. She stood there, frozen for half a second, then straightened up like someone had yanked her upright by a string. “Nothing,” she said quickly, her jaw clenched so tight it ached. JJ didn’t say a word. His arms were rigid at his sides, chest still heaving, that same fury boiling behind his eyes.
“Nothing is going on”
Y/N repeated, sharper this time. She wasn’t even fully looking at Luke anymore- her gaze was fixed on JJ, like her words were meant for him just as much, like she was pleading with him. Her voice dropped slightly, nearly trembling:
“Right, JJ? Nothing’s happening here.”
There was a long pause. JJ looked at her- really looked at her- and her eyes silently begged, he knew exactly what she was saying in her mind. Don’t say it- don’t let him find out. JJ’s nostrils flared, his whole body rigid, but his face hardened into stone. Then, slowly, almost in disbelief, he shook his head. His hand dragged over his mouth once more as he took a step back.
He didn’t say a single word.
He just turned, snatching his cap of the kitchen counter and walked toward the door and left- slamming it shut behind him with a bang that made the windows shudder in their frames. Y/N flinched. Her chest caved as she dropped down into one of the wooden kitchen chairs like all the strength had just drained out of her. Her elbows hit the edge of the table, head falling into her hands, shoulders hunched. Behind her, Luke mumbled something unintelligible and stumbled down the hallway. The second he was gone, the dam broke, silent tears dripped through her fingers, landing in dark, wet splotches on the old wooden table beneath her.
bzzz bzzz bzzz
Her phone vibrated on the counter, loud in the quiet house. She turned around slowly, reaching for it her hand trembling as the screen lit up.
Rafe
She stared at it, heartbeat thudding in her throat. Her chest rose and fell unevenly. Her thumb hovered over the screen for a long moment and then a soft, broken sound left her lips. She placed the phone face down on the table, letting it buzz until the sound faded.
Until the silence was all that was left in the four walls of the house.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The soft clatter of cutlery was the only sound in the back of the restaurant. Y/N stood at the long metal counter, back hunched slightly as she polished a fork with slow, repetitive movements. Her shoulders were pulled up tight- and the faded name tag on her polo was barely clinging on by its safety pin. The white cloth in her hand dragged in steady circles, silver catching the dim light overhead. By the doorway, Sofia leaned one shoulder against the frame. She didn’t say anything at first- just watched her best friend, lips pressed into a thin, uncertain line. Y/N looked like she hadn’t slept a wink. There were shadows under her eyes and a drained stillness in her face. Sofia quietly stepped into the room, picked up another cloth from the drawer, and reached for a fork. Y/N didn’t look up, didn’t say anything, just kept working, kept silent like she had for the past few days. Sofia offered gently,
“Hey”
“Hey”
Y/N murmured back, voice soft but distant, her eyes locked on the fork in her hand like it was the only thing tethering her. Sofia hesitated, cloth in one hand fork in the other, debating how to say what she needed to. Her fingers tightened slightly on the metal.
“I um heard what happened to JJ”
Y/N’s hand paused, just for a second. Just long enough for the silence to crack a little but then she kept polishing.
“Mmhmm”
It was a quiet hum, the kind that meant I heard you, but please don’t ask me to talk about it. Sofia exhaled slowly. She put her fork down, the soft clink echoing in the small room. “Y/N… I haven't seen you for days,” she said, voice quieter now.
“Please talk to me.”
The cloth slipped from Y/N’s fingers. She gently set the fork down beside it, like even letting go of that was too much. Her hand lifted, trembling as she brushed it across her brow- trying to collect herself, to stay composed.
“I don’t know what to do Sof...”
She said, voice breaking mid-sentence. The words hit the air like a wound. Her eyes welled up instantly, lashes soaked before she could even blink. Sofia was already there, wrapping her arms around her in a heartbeat, tugging her in close. Y/N’s chin dropped to her shoulder, her breath hitching in her chest as she pressed her face against Sofia’s polo shirt.
“It’s okay,” Sofia whispered, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
But it wasn’t okay.
It wasn’t okay.
Because Y/N felt like she was standing at the centre of a storm, everything torn apart. JJ wouldn’t even look at her. Wouldn’t speak to her. Her baby brother- her heart- had walked out and she hasn't seen him since then. And Rafe? Rafe had broken the one promise he swore to keep. He’d hurt her in a way she didn’t know how to come back from.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Sofia’s arms stayed tight around her for a long moment, like she could shield her from the weight of it all- from the ache, from the choices, from the fear. Then, gently, she pulled back and brushed a tear from Y/N’s cheek with the bottom of her polo which she'd tugged up. She said softly, tugging at her friend’s hand,
“Come here”
Y/N let herself be led, her limbs sluggish and almost reluctant. Sofia guided her to a small wooden stool tucked beneath one of the prep counters in the back room. She sat her down with careful hands, like setting a glass sculpture onto stone. Then she crouched in front of her, folding herself down so they were eye to eye. Her expression was open, gentle, patient. Sofia asked her voice low and kind,
“Can you tell me what’s going on... ?”
Y/N’s teeth sank into her bottom lip. Her eyes dropped to her lap where her hands were clenched into fists on top of her apron. For a moment, the silence between them stretched. Then Y/N gave a slow, exhaled surrender- and she told her.
Everything
She told Sofia about the second job — how she’d been dancing at the strip club for months just to make ends meet. How the money had been good, but the shame had clung to her skin like an old perfume. She told her about Rafe, about the way he’d taunted her, messed with her head, haunted her space like a ghost that never left her alone. And then how that twisted thing between them had shifted after what happened to her in the parking lot. About the parking lot. How she’d gotten pregnant, how she hadn’t meant to involve him but had nowhere else to go. And how, when it counted, Rafe had helped her and it had turned into more. Secret late nights, quiet promises in dark corners, a fragile, forbidden thing which they nurtured in silence. And as a result it had all blown up. JJ had found out, the one person she'd always protected now looked at her like she was someone he didn’t recognise. But even through the storm the rift between her and JJ had brought, all she could think about was Rafe.
Rafe, who said he wouldn’t tell anyone.
Rafe, who would hold her in his car on late nights and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
Rafe, who promised.
And he broke it.
Sofia didn’t interrupt once. She stayed crouched there, one arm resting on her bent knee, nodding gently as each piece fell from Y/N like shattered glass. Her face remained steady and calm, but her eyes were soft with understanding. With heartbreak for her friend. When the story was done, Y/N swallowed thickly and glanced up at her with wet eyes.
“Please don’t judge me”
She whispered, barely audible. Sofia’s reaction was immediate — a sharp shake of the head. She said, gently but firmly.
“Why would I judge you?”
“I don’t know, I just…” Y/N’s voice cracked. She looked away again, blinking hard. Sofia leaned in a little closer, her brows furrowing with affection.
“Why didn’t you say something, mi corazón?”
“I was just… embarrassed.”
Y/N’s lips wobbled as she gave the smallest shrug and whispered. Without a word, Sofia reached out and laid a steadying hand on Y/N’s knee, grounding her. She spoke her voice laced with quiet conviction.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of”
Y/N’s throat tightened instantly. Her chin dipped, tears slipping down once again. But when Sofia leaned forward and wrapped her into another hug, she folded into it without hesitation- burying her face in her friend’s shoulder, arms clutching around her tightly like she might disappear. “We’ll figure it out, okay?” Sofia whispered against her hair.
“We’ll figure it out together.”
“I love you Sof”
Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut. Her body sagged in relief at the promise — not that anything was fixed, but that she wasn’t alone. Sofia just hugged her tighter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N threw back the swinging door to the main bar with her hip, a full tray of used glasses balanced effortlessly in her hand. The low hum of muffled chatter greeted her like a familiar blanket, warm and a little suffocating. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the bar's lights as she stepped back behind the counter, dumping the tray beside the industrial sink with a heavy exhale. She hadn’t realised how much she needed that talk with Sofia until now. Something about finally saying it out loud- all of it- had loosened the tightness in her chest. The weight of silence had been unbearable, and now, while the ache still lingered, she could breathe again. Just a little. But there wasn’t time to dwell in her thoughts anyways, not tonight.
The bar was packed, voices raised, chairs scraping against floorboards, orders being placed and the occasional whistle. She adjusted the apron which was tied snug around her waist, as a guy asked from the far end of the bar, adding on the name of his tab.
“Two shots of tequila, lime and salt on the side”
“Of course”
She replied without missing a beat, already grabbing the bottle and reaching for shot glasses. Her hands moved fast- pouring, shaking, stirring. She restocked bottles of liquor without thinking, cracked open a fresh case of beer, wiped condensation from the metal counter and replaced a handful of clean napkins. Someone ordered a mojito and she went to work muddling the mint, crushing ice with a practiced rhythm. It was muscle memory by now- she didn’t have to think, which was exactly what she needed.
No room for thoughts, no room for Rafe, or JJ, or anything else eating her alive from the inside out.
The more she moved, the more she disappeared into the chaos. Her skin gleamed under the bar lights, sweat beading along the back of her neck as she reached overhead to tuck fresh tumblers onto the glass shelf. She barely heard the quiet jazz music anymore, just the beat of urgency thudding in her chest.
“Another whiskey sour”
Someone asked and she reached for the shaker, wipe, pour, shake, serve, repeat, but then something made her glance up and her hand stilled on the bottle. Across the bar, nestled deep into the shadows of the corner lounge area, sat Rafe. Not drinking, not talking.
Just watching her.
He was slouched back in a leather chair like he owned that corner of the room, legs spread comfortably, one arm draped over the armrest. The light barely caught his face, but she didn’t need clarity to know the exact look he was wearing- that familiar unreadable expression, cold eyes fixed solely on her like she was something distant he couldn’t quite reach. Her jaw clenched tight.
The nerve
The audacity?
Y/N quickly looked away, her lips thinning as she focused on the drink in her hands, finishing the sour and passing it across the bar without a second glance. She moved faster now, snatching empty glasses off tables as she passed, ducking into the back cooler for a new bottle of gin, keeping her head down. But every time she looked up- every time- he was still there, still watching. Like a storm cloud on the edge of the horizon, just waiting to roll in, god it made her blood boil.
Her shoulders tensed as she scrubbed a sticky ring off the bar top with more force than necessary. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking back, refused to let him drag her under again, not tonight. Not while she was trying to hold it together with thin threads and old tape. She poured a round of rum and cokes for a rowdy group at table four, barely registering the guy who tried to flirt with her as she served them. All she could feel was the burn of Rafe’s stare pressing into the side of her face like a brand. The bar area was still pulsing around her, dim lights flickering like fireflies in the low haze, glasses clinking, a muffled jazz beat vibrating through the floorboards but Y/N had started to move on autopilot. Hands quick and precise, wiping down the counters, collecting empty tumblers, taking orders and mixing drinks. She’d just handed off a margarita, salted rim, top-shelf tequila, extra lime, 'the usual', to a woman with long red nails and a tipsy grin when something in her peripheral made her pause.
She looked over and there he was.
Standing just to her left now, not lounging anymore, but leaning forward against the bar- both arms resting casually on the glossy wooden top, the sleeves of his shirt pushed back to his elbows. His expression wasn’t smug, wasn’t cocky like usual. There was no lazy smirk or self-satisfied gleam in his eye. He looked tired, and she could see a faint bruise on his cheekbone. His voice was quieter than normal when he spoke — missing that usual confident drawl.
“Can I get a whiskey on ice?”
Y/N didn’t respond. Not with words anyway, she turned, wordless, and reached for the bottle behind her. Her movements were mechanical and efficient. She pulled out a glass, dropped in the ice, and started pouring slow and steady, never once letting herself really look at him. But she couldn't help it and her eyes flickered up once. Just once. He was already watching her. His gaze was steady, fixed on her with a weight that made her skin prickle. Like he was searching for something in her face, something he couldn’t quite reach, something he knew he might not be allowed to see anymore. Still, she didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask why he was here. Didn’t ask what the hell he thought he was doing. Because truthfully? She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him. There was too much in her mind and it was too loud- much too messy.
Her hand moved on instinct, finishing the pour, and he slid the glass across the bar on a coaster her fingers brushing the condensation as she pushed it toward him. Rafe took it, fingers curling around the glass, but he didn’t drink. He just looked at her, lips pressing into a thin line like he was forcing himself not to say something he might regret. Finally, his voice broke the beat of the music again, soft but edged with something uncertain.
“…are you mad at me?”
Y/N didn’t blink, is he fucking dumb? She didn’t lift her eyes as she answered, her voice flat. Cold. Soaked in disappointment that ran deeper than fury.
“Mad doesn’t even cover it.”
And then she turned, already moving toward the next customer, leaving Rafe standing there, his untouched drink in hand. He didn’t leave, not after that first drink, not after her next round of orders rolled in. Rafe stayed perched on a stool by the bar, watching her every move.
All night.
Eventually he returned to the same leather chair tucked into the farthest corner of the lounge, a space covered just enough in shadow that most people wouldn’t notice him if they were looking. But Y/N did. Every time she turned around, every time she restocked the vodka, every time she handed someone a beer, she felt his eyes.
Waiting.
For what?—she wasn’t sure. A chance to speak to her? Forgiveness? Maybe just a single glance from her in his direction. She didn’t give him that- not once. Not even when her arms began to ache from shaking drinks. Not even when her lower back pinched from bending to stock crates under the bar. She kept moving, kept working, pushing through the ache in her chest and the hot buzz behind her eyes because looking at him, acknowledging him, might just undo her right there behind the bar.
He didn’t make it easy, he stayed there, that untouched whiskey glass still in front of him like he didn’t even have the stomach to drink it. His elbows rested on the armrests of the chair, posture not lazy like usual was but tense. Stiff. Even Sofia noticed. The first time she passed by his corner delivering a round of beers, she glanced his way—and didn’t hide the icy look she shot him. Her brows furrowed in sharp judgment, eyes narrowing as she walked by without breaking her stride. The second time, she muttered something under her breath in Spanish that sounded suspiciously like a curse. The third time, Rafe shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable now. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoided looking at her directly. His fingers tapped restlessly against the side of his glass, but he didn’t leave.
Y/N clocked it all from across the room.
How he didn’t even try to defend himself under Sofia’s glare. How he just sat there, letting himself stew in whatever guilt had driven him here in the first place. Despite every ounce of anger boiling in her chest, some part of her- a stupid, bruised part- still wondered why. Why he was there. Why he hadn’t left. Why he did what he did in the first place.
But she didn’t ask, she couldn't.
She just kept pretending she didn’t feel his stare burning a hole through her ribs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N shoved her apron deep into her bag, the fabric still damp from the shift. Her locker door clanged shut harder than necessary, echoing through the quiet staff room. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the worn bag closed. Sofia leaned against the frame of the doorway, arms crossed, watching her closely.
“You sure you don’t want me to walk you to your car?” her voice soft, gentle, hesitant, "why don't you just come and stay with me for the night? You know my parents really won’t mi—”
“I’m fine”
Y/N cut her off with a half-hearted smile, already slinging her bag over her shoulder,
“Really- I'll be ok”
Sofia didn’t push. She just nodded, a quiet understanding behind her brown eyes, and reached out to give her friend’s arm a warm rub, reassuring and grounding.
“Text me when you get home”
She spoke out with a soft smile, and then turned returning back to serving, leaving Y/N alone with the dim hum of the locker room lights. Y/N let out a breath as the door swung shut behind her, then turned on her heel and started out, walking the familiar halls of the country club in silence. The floors echoed under her shoes, the once-buzzing energy now dulled down to a few scattered patrons still nursing their drinks at the bar. Her path was straight and certain; out the lobby, across the lot, into her car, and then home to her bedroom where she could finally fall apart all over again but that plan cracked the moment she heard his voice,
“I can’t stand not talking to you”
It stopped her mid-step. She turned, eyes narrowing as her gaze landed on him, standing just a few feet away near the archway that separated the main area from the corridor. His posture was rigid, jaw tight, eyes desperately locked on her like the sight of her physically hurt him.
“Cornering me at work Rafe?” Her voice was sharp, cutting.
“Seriously?”
“Please,” he said quickly, “it was a mistake”
Her laugh was dry and humourless as she took a step back, putting more space between them as she spoke out to him,
“Well I don’t want to fucking see you. Okay?”
She turned sharply on her heel, her shoes hitting against the polished floor as she headed for the door to get as far away as she possibly could from him. He took a step after her calling out her name,
“Y/N—”
“I said I’m done”
She snapped without looking back as her hand moved forward to press against the cool glass of the door but that’s when his hand caught her wrist. Not hard- not even rough. Just a desperate, instinctual reach to stop her from walking away from him but it didn’t matter.
She flinched- visibly.
Her body jolted back, her breath catching in her throat like someone had shoved her against a wall, and she harshly snatched her hand away from him. His hand was off her in an instant, eyes wide with horror.
“Shit- I'm sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
His voice was genuinely shaken, like he'd just realised something too late... it didn't take a genius for him to figure out why she'd reacted that way. They stood there, the air heavy and still. Her chest rising and falling in quiet breaths. Him, frozen in place like if he moved too fast he’d shatter the last piece of her that was still standing in front of him. Y/N finally looked up at him, her voice cracked,
“I trusted you.”
Rafe’s lips parted like he wanted to speak, but the words never came. Just the ache of guilt, swelling like a lump in his throat preventing him from speaking out to her. “Out of everyone on this island,” she said, each syllable slow, deliberate, trembling,
“I trusted you.”
And God, that look in her eyes when she looked away- betrayal, hurt- it gutted him. Because no one had ever trusted him like that before- and he’d thrown it away in a moment of reckless anger which was worthless to him now. She didn’t need to see the look on his face to know it would upset her, but when she looked up to him again it almost stopped her in her tracks. Rafe was still standing there, just a few steps behind where she left him, eyes damp with unshed tears, his lower lip trembling like he was fighting it- like he was barely holding himself together. For a moment, she felt like she couldn’t breathe- but she didn’t have the space to carry his pain on top of hers. So she shook her head, a tiny, bitter movement- more to herself than to him- and turned away. She didn’t wait to see if he’d call out again, she didn’t want to hear anything else come out of his mouth. Y/N pushed through the exit doors into the still, quiet night.
The staff parking lot was nearly empty now. Sofia’s little beat-up car was a few spots over from her own, the manager’s black SUV on the far side but that was it. Empty asphalt, dim overhead lights, and the sound of her own footsteps echoing with every step toward her car. She half-expected him to follow, but he didn’t. Good, she thought to herself he didn’t deserve to. As she approached her car, something caught her eye- a small, white rectangle tucked neatly beneath the wiper blade of her windshield. Her stomach twisted. She glanced around the lot on instinct, but saw no one. Carefully, she plucked the paper from under the wiper. It was a folded-up note card. And when she opened it, two crisp hundred-dollar bills fluttered to the pavement at her feet.
Her heart dropped as her eyes scanned the message.
" Sorry baby x "
She scoffed out loud, bitter and disbelieving, the sound catching in her throat like a laugh soaked in gasoline. She bent down slowly, picked up the bills, her fingers trembling. Was this a joke? Was this what he thought would make things better? Footsteps echoed behind her and she didn’t even need to turn because she knew it was him. Hot rage snapped through her chest like a rubber band and before she could think twice, she whirled around and stormed back toward him, shoes slamming against the pavement. Her fist clutched the note and the cash tightly, nails biting into her palm. He was just a few yards away, hands stuffed in his pockets, walking slowly like he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing- but when she closed the distance between them, he stopped dead in his tracks. Without hesitation, she shoved the paper and bills into his chest shoving him back, her voice shaking from fury.
“I don’t want your fucking money Rafe!”
The bills nearly slipped from his hands as he reached up, fumbling to catch them. His brows furrowed, panicked and hurt.
“I’m just trying to help you—”
“I’m not a FUCKING CHARITY CASE!”
She snapped yelling out at him, voice rising, eyes glinting under the parking lot lights. The words hung between them like a slap and he stared at her like she’d just knocked the wind out of him. She could see it now- the way his mouth opened, then shut again, how he couldn’t look her in the eye, how the words on his tongue died before they ever reached his lips. Because he knew. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t something a couple hundred bucks and a sorry would fix. But still… he reached for her. Not to touch, but to speak- his voice cracked, low.
“Y/N…”
She stepped back.
"Don’t."
Her breath hitched, and she swallowed it down with every ounce of strength she had left. She looked at him, really looked at him- messy hair, tired eyes meeting that wounded expression on his face like he was the one who got hurt- and it made her sick. "You don't get to be upset," she whispered, voice trembling but sharp as glass.
"This is your fault."
She spoke out through gritted teeth and he just shook his head in response and he sighed out, his hand coming out and running over his hair before he could say another word to her, she turned and walked away she refused to listen to hi-
“I love you”
His voice cuts through the space between them- soft and low, but it stopped her in her tracks like a bullet. Y/N froze, completely, her back still to him. Her hand comes up over her face, trembling as she tries to breathe through it, tries to swallow down everything rising in her throat. She feels like her knees are about to give out underneath her, chest heaving with the kind of pressure that builds until it becomes unbearable, the kind that threatens to spill out in hot, angry tears. What the fuck was he doing? Her hand drops slowly to her side, fingers twitching, keys clinking in her grip. She turns, slow and tired and sharp all at once, and lifts her chin just enough to meet his gaze. Her voice is tight, quiet, venom-laced and barely hanging on.
“Don’t say shit like that.”
She takes a step back like his presence burns. He tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Why not?”
“Because—” she starts, then bites the word off, jaw clenching as she shakes her head, like she can just shake him out of her mind.
“Just don’t.”
But Rafe- he stays rooted to the pavement, watching her like she’s sand slipping through his fingers and he's desperate enough to fall to the floor and start picking up each grain individually. “Please,” he says, voice rough with a pleading edge she’s never heard from him.
“Just listen to what I have to say”
She shakes her head again, more frantic this time, her thumb jabbing the car key until she hears a beep, the headlights flashing like a warning. She storms toward the door, her breath hitching in her throat. “Well then talk to me,” Rafe tries again, following her now, steps echoing hers. Desperation claws into his voice.
“Please Y/N- talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk to you, okay?”
She whirls around so fast he almost walks right into her, and with a sharpness that nearly cuts the air and she snaps, voice cracking in the middle, hand shaking around the keys.
“I don’t want to talk to you- my whole life is crumbling around me, and funnily enough, you seem to be the core of my problems.”
“No, I’m not—”
“Yes you are!”
Y/N yells as she raises her hands in defeat, voice ringing out across the empty parking lot, echoing off metal and asphalt and silence. She’s standing there, chest rising and falling so hard it looks like she might collapse under the weight of it all. Her lip trembles as she stares at him- like he’s the storm and she’s the goddamn wreckage.
“I seem to only be thinking about you!”
She chokes out, the words ragged. Real. They're out of her mouth before she can stop them and when they land, when the truth hangs heavy and cruel between them, her entire expression shifts. Like the world’s been ripped from beneath her feet and she’s the one who did it. Her lips press together, her shoulders sag, and her eyes flicker down like she’s already trying to take it back.
But it’s too late.
Rafe just stares at her, a flicker of pain surging behind his eyes. No smirk, no cocky retort, no smug line like always. Just... stunned- like he’s been punched in the chest. She exhales shakily and reaches for the car door handle, gripping it so tight her knuckles go white. She tries to anchor herself to the cold metal but then his voice cuts through the silence, earnest.
“...I think about you too.”
She squeezes her eyes shut as though to block his voice out.
“All the time I'm thinking about yo-”
“No.”
Her voice is barely a whisper now fractured and frightened.
“Stop.”
“Why?” Rafe asks, his tone is softer this time.
“What are you so afraid of?”
Her fingers tremble where they rest against the door, and she swallows hard, the lump in her throat too big to ignore now. “I can’t-” she croaks, shaking her head like it physically hurts her to speak.
“I can’t do this with you, Rafe. I just can’t.”
“Why?”
His voice is gentle- almost pleading- just a thread of sound in the night air. He steps closer, careful not to touch her, but close enough that she can feel the heat of him lingering like a ghost, like he’s haunting her just like everything else she’s tried to bury. “Y/N,” he says, his tone catching at the edges,
“you know you want to. So why are you running away?”
She doesn’t answer. She just stands there, shaking her head slowly, lips pressed tight like she’s trying to hold herself together with sheer will alone. Because how is she supposed to explain it? How does she say out loud that love feels like a noose around her throat- that she's only ever known the kind that hurts. She hates it- hates that he’s asking the very question she keeps asking herself.
Why is she running?
The answer lodges in her chest, sharp and bitter: because she’s scared. Scared of how much this means, scared of what it could take from her, scared of how much it already has. She’s never really been loved. Not the way people are supposed to be. Not by her father, who only ever saw her as a mirror of everything he hated. Not even- if she’s being honest- by JJ, because JJ has the Pogues he has John B and the others and she… she’s always felt like second place- like an afterthought, even when they swore they were all each other had. So yeah- she’s scared. Because this? What she feels when Rafe looks at her, what stirs deep in her gut when he says her name like a prayer he’s never gonna stop saying, it’s terrifying.
Because she loves him.
She loves him.
More than she even knew she could and that’s what terrifies her the most. Rafe sees the shift. The tear rolling down her cheek and his hands twitch at his sides- because he wants to reach out. Wants to tell her it's okay to be scared. That he’s scared too. But his voice breaks around the weight of it.
“Y/N I lov-”
“Please”
She whispers, eyes glossy as the salt water drips down the skin of her face, her voice raw and strained.
“Just let me go home.”
His jaw tenses hard enough it clicks, the muscle there jumping. His mind screams at him to keep her here, to talk it out until she's in his arm again but instead, he nods, jaw locked tight like he’s holding back something that might rip him in half if he lets it loose. He steps back and she can't meet his eyes. She just slips into her car like she’s done a thousand times, hands shaking as she fumbles with the key, breath stuttering through her chest. The door shuts with a quiet thud that sounds final.
And then- she’s gone. Taillights disappear down the dark road, red glow vanishing into the night. Rafe stands there for a second, not moving, just staring at where her car used to be. His chest rises and falls like he’s been running, but he hasn’t moved at all. His hands lift to his hair, a groan tearing from his throat, guttural and helpless. He paces once, twice in rage and heartbreak and desperation tangling all over each other until he doesn’t even know what to feel anymore.
Because fuck.
He knows that she loves him but he’s scared he’s already lost her anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The drive home is silent, except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel beneath her tires. Her hands are loose on the wheel now, posture slumped like all the weight of the night has finally caught up to her. The headlights sweep over the front of her house as she pulls in, illuminating the weather-worn porch, the chipped paint on the steps.
She parks and cuts the engine.
For a moment, she doesn’t move. Just rests her forehead gently against the steering wheel and closes her eyes quiet sniffles filling the car. She lets herself sink into the kind of stillness that feels like sinking into water- quiet, numbing, heavy. She sits there and thinks for a moment, she thinks how she wishes she could just start over. Somewhere far away, somewhere no one knows her name and no one knows what she’s done. Somewhere she could exist without always feeling like she's on the edge of ruin. Like she's constantly holding everything together with nothing but her fingertips and good intentions. Her chest tightens as she breathes out a shaky sigh finally reaching for the door handle.
She steps out into the cool night, her shoes landing softly on the dried grass. The sky is thick and clouded, swallowing the stars whole, no moonlight shining through. As she approaches the porch, she notices just a faint flicker of light through the drawn shutter blinds. Her steps quiet as she doesn’t want to make a sound. Y/N slides her keys into the lock carefully, twisting them with a gentle hand.
Click
The door eases open and she slips inside and shuts it behind her—softly, gently, like maybe if she moves quiet enough, nothing will break but as she turns around and stops cold. Dead in her tracks. Her breath catches in her throat, and her eyes lock onto the living room just a few feet ahead.
Her father is sitting on the couch.
Half his face lit by the dim glow of the table lamp beside him. The other half shrouded in darkness. His shoulders are hunched forward, one hand dangling off his knee, a glass of something clutched loose in his fingers. Whiskey maybe, or vodka, or whatever was cheapest this week. His eyes are open and staring straight at her. It’s like the air’s been sucked out of the house. His expression unreadable beneath the haze of alcohol—and maybe something stronger. She’s still frozen there, heart pounding so loud she can feel it in her throat, her ears, her ribs. Like it’s trying to crawl out of her. But it’s not him that makes her stomach twist into knots and her lungs forget how to breathe. It’s what’s sitting on the table in front of him, laid out neatly on the small coffee table like some sort of offering.
