fear love¹ | rafe cameron

thirty-three

»Where did he go?« John B asked as he took the last sip from his can and looked at me after he looked after Rafe until he disappeared into the darkness and was no longer recognizable.

»He had to go home, Ward needed his help« I explained, amazed at myself at how easy it was to make this lie sound believable, that none of my friends asked and hesitated to believe me. Not even Sarah asked, although she always recognized quickly when I lied.

It kind of unsettled me not knowing where he had gone, what he needed to do, who he really needed to help, and why he wasn't telling me anything but I had to accept that he wasn't telling me what was going on because he had told me he would explain everything.

I tried to force myself to believe that he would explain everything and tell me where he had gone, but it didn't help. He built up this wall around himself again, which he always did, even when we weren't together.

We were all sitting around the crackling fire and while we were all talking and laughing and JJ was taking a drag on his joint, as he usually does, we all suddenly fell silent at the same time as a shrill, loud gunshot was heard followed by the sound of birds flying out of the trees.

»It wasn't me« JJ filled the tense silence between us as we all sat rigidly in our seats and you could see in everyone's faces that we were scared and not sure if we had all really just heard the same thing.

»Was that a« asked Pope and John B finished the sentence he had started. »A gunshot?« he looked to Pope.

A moment later sirens could be heard and blue lights shining over from far away.
»I think we should go« Kie muttered and without hesitation we smothered the campfire with the sand, JJ buried his joint and when the fire was only lightly crackling we gathered our things, threw the empty beer cans in the trash and all ran in separate directions after saying goodbye.

It was a shock to hear a gunshot and we were all sure they were going to search the beach and we all couldn't use being picked up at the police station that night because we were underage and had alcohol and drugs on us.

Just as I was running up the stairs on the porch to enter the house through the back unlocked door, my cell phone rang.
My stepmother's name lit up my phone and I immediately answered the call, hoping she could tell me what the fix was.
»Grace? Are you okay? Where are you? Are you okay?« she asked, concern resonating in her voice.

»I just got home« I replied and just as I finished speaking, she started questioning me hysterically again.
»Where, in figure eight or over on the cut?«.
»Here in figure eight«.
»Okay, okay fine! Lock up, please« she instructed me and once I was in the kitchen I locked the door behind me and pulled the curtain closed.

»I'll be right there too, please take care« Veronica said and without me even being able to answer she hung up.
I didn't get any smarter from the phone call, I hardly had the chance to ask anything myself without answering her questions.

I tried to reach Rafe for the fifth time, either in messages or by phone, but he didn't answer and I was directed to his voicemail, which didn't really help me either.
I flipped on the lights in the house while that shrill gunshot droned on and on in my head.

As I took off the dress and then hung it in my closet, I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for bed until I heard the wood of the stairs to the floor I was on crunch.

Hearing the sound and slightly opening the door to look into the dark hallway, I could only make out an outline of a person in the dark.

Without really thinking, I grabbed my hair dryer and waited by the door, closing it as quietly as I could until the person would get in here.