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─ ☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆ ─
Ophelia had never felt more helpless.
The Martin girl had always been a victim to authority. From her father, Richard Martin, to her childhood friend turned lover. Both, had one thing in common -
They were both in complete and total control of Ophelia. Unlike the girl's father, Rafe Cameron wanted the absolute best for Ophelia, and although maybe he was a little too hard on her, from walking directly behind the girl in short denim shorts, to making his claim on her long before she was ever taken, Ophelia just so happened to let it be.
In times like these, she felt empty, waiting on her knight in shining armour who might not ever show. That, or she wouldn't know the difference if he had. Ophelia's wrists had began to grow numb, first it was pins and needles, and then, nothing.
The thin fabric of John B's tainted shirt had shield Ophelia's vision completely, leaving the brunette in complete and utter fear, not knowing what was going on, but able to hear the faint chatter between John B and Sarah.
She wouldn't know if or when Rafe would be stopped and the duo would intercept the gold. That was their plan all along, and now Ophelia was stuck without sight, only wondering how this had went so horribly, terribly wrong.
"Are you ready to go?" Ophelia had kept her place, huddled on the ground as her back, presumably, faced the opposite direction. She had pretended as if she wasn't listening, though one thing about Ophelia Martin that kept everyone on their toes - she was very good at playing the part.
She had waited briefly, hearing the soft grass crunch underneath their shoes, and it was then Ophelia made her move.
Although her bruised wrists were tired, she tugged at the bindings one last time before rolling onto her back, slipping her arms underneath her feet, bringing her hands to the front of her chest.
She could hear the voices, the soft clatter of people talking, and she knew she had to make her move fast.
One moment, her trembling fingers tugged at the tie around her eyes, adjusting her eyes to the bright lit sun as she rose to her feet. Next, the fabric in her mouth, now damp and blood stained from her dry lips cracking open, was torn away from her mouth, hanging loosely around the girl's dirt ridden neck.
Quiet, yet surely, Ophelia crept up behind her two sworn enemies, neither realizing the Martin girl had moved from her spot, yet alone removed the bindings from her eyes and mouth. She was almost free. Almost.
Ophelia could almost taste how close she was to freedom. One minute, her body crouched beneath the grass. The next, she ran as fast as she possibly could.
The bindings on her hands were held in place, though Ophelia had a type of adrenaline running through her, one that kept her pushing through. Her legs were on fire, her tear stained cheeks burning in the wind as her shoulder knocked momentarily into Sarah's, and then she was on the paved road.
There was Rafe. So close. Yet so far. His body lay flat on the surface of the ground, not a clue in the world that Ophelia had been directly behind him. She was at a loss, her heart thumping in her chest, and it was then a hand recoiled over her mouth, keeping her from speaking.
"Sarah, you're alive." Ward Cameron gushed in happiness, and it was then then elder Cameron's eyes fell short of his daughter, alive and well, that his hand extended outwards, in hopes of reaching his son.
"Stay back." John B rose his free hand in the air, his gaze narrowing in on Ward, who was trying to reach out to his daughter. That, was enough commotion for Cleo to let go of Rafe, whom was held at knife point, now free to open his eyes to the world around him.
"Ophelia?"
Everything stopped. One moment, tears fell slowly down the girls flushed cheeks, the next, her tied wrists tugging at John B's hand, a small smile creeping onto her face. "Rafe?" Ophelia spoke, barely audible, her cries only growing louder. "Rafe!"
The Cameron boy grew pale. His grew wide, heart clambering in his chest as he let out a cry of relief. He couldn't believe his very eyes, though the sight before him had him more angry than happy. He was infuriated, which led him to drawing out the gun he stuck in the back of his pants.
"Hey!" Rafe shouted over the commotion, Ophelia's slender body tugging and squirming in John B's hold. "You let her go, John B or I swear to god I will kill you!" Rafe held the gun firmly, though his hands trembling, John B could sense the barrel focused directly on the middle of his face.
It was then Ophelia took her chance, knowing it was now, or never.
"Do it, baby." Ophelia spoke softly, John B's hold growing softer as his free hand held up his own retaliation, growing concerned under Ophelia's words. "You'll shoot her instead, Rafe." The Routledge boy argued, to which Ophelia took as her escape route, mimicking the boy's words from earlier on.
"I'll take my chances."
Ophelia raised both hands over her head, still intertwined, joining her hands together as she used her fists to meet with John B's face, the sound of bones cracking and a moment of pure agony, he had released his hold, and Ophelia then ran.
The sound of the gun sounding hadn't bothered the Martin girl. It hadn't been the first time she witnessed Rafe be the man behind a gun, and this time, she had encouraged it.
Rafe had waited for Ophelia to be in the clearing, one minute her body shielding John B, the next, pulling the trigger just as the Martin girl collided with Rafe, the gun clattering to the floor in one, swift motion.
Ophelia's body felt weak, her legs trembling below her as she fell into Rafe's hold. Tears fell down her cheeks, endlessly, the boy's hands unsure of where to remain before finding way to her wrists, tugging at the red coloured bandana before her arms snaked around his neck, his own finding way around her waist.
"Ophelia." Rafe spoke effortlessly, her name rolling off his tongue so naturally. He wasn't sure if he had been dreaming, though the faint sound of her heart beating against his brought him back into reality, his arms only drawing her in closer.
"Rafe." Was all she managed to say aloud, the boy's hands finding way to her tear stained cheeks, his own matching hers entirely as his eyes fell over her bruised skin. "My Ophelia." He whispered softly, one hand around her waist, the other wrapping around the base of her neck, slamming his lips to hers.
─ ☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆ ─
Author's Note
Was this too soon? Not soon enough?
Anyways, despite my constant criticism about the last few chapters I have written, OPHELIA AND RAFE ARE TOGETHER AGAIN.
It was painful keeping them apart, and I think I had a hard time writing about them separated. Ive become so invested in Ophelia and Rafe, sometime's I feel like I myself am Ophelia. (Don't we all wish)
There is now 80K reads on this story, and it is beyond me.
YOU ARE THE BEST.
Please, stay with me. There is so much to unpack, and lots of steamy moments to come!
