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"You know what I think we should do?"
Ward Cameron stood tall in the middle of his accred lawn, narrowing his stare in on the eldest Cameron, his only son. "What Rafe? Tell me, please." A growing smile etched on the tanned boys face, his jaw clenching at the root of the cause.
"Tell me, Rafe. What's you're great idea." The eldest Cameron stood before his father, pale coloured bruises tainting over his flushed skin.
"I think we should kill them all."
Ward Cameron, a man of many words, left completely and utterly speechless. Eyes remained glued to his son, the boy fumbling over his own words as his slender fingers trembled at his sides.
"Why is that, son?" Richard Martin, the silent partner to Ward Cameron, resting his hand down firmly on the younger boy's shoulder, making himself known. "Because." Rafe let out a chorus of dry laughter, curling his fingers into the palm of his hands.
"Look at what they've done to us. To our families." The Cameron boy spat, his eyes narrowing in on Richard Martin, not cowering back at his longing stare. "They took Ophelia." Rafe stated. "They took my Ophelia."
The entirety of the walk back had been silent. John B hadn't thought of the right thing to say, and Ophelia simply didn't want to say anything at all. She despised John B for many reasons, one being the reason she was walking along side him in this very moment, the warm summer breeze of Nassau suddenly causing Ophelia to hate all things she once loved.
"We won't talk about it." John B hushed quietly, The Fairmont in eyeshot view, though Ophelia simply let her eyes roll back into her head, kicking at the stray rocks lingering over the pavement. "You didn't run, I didn't go looking for the gold."
Ophelia smiled lightly, her eyes narrowing in on the Pogue who's lips remained pursed in a thin line, his jaw clenched and neck flushed red showing Ophelia, she was the one who held all the power.
"Well, pretty boy. What are you waiting for? Go get her." John B turned to give Ophelia a questioning look, her eyes shut as the warm sun cascaded over her already tanned complexion, arms folding over her chest.
"Don't worry. I have no where to go."
Fact of the matter was, Ophelia was helpless. Stranded on a well known island with a wanted fugitive and ex-best friend wasn't necessarily on Ophelia Martin's To Do List, Although, upon hearing the soft waves clattering against the shore, it made her think of the only person who made her feel like the ocean.
