nightrunners

xxxiv.

The tall Kook propelled himself off of Topper's grey BMW and sauntered towards the fuming Pogue, who had instantly begun to reach into his waistband for his weapon.

Rafe chuckled lowly and raised his arms up in defense, "I don't want any trouble Maybank."

The words slide between his teeth and roll off his tongue like a poorly made promise. JJ eyed him carefully, his fingers lingering over the barrel of the gun.

When JJ didn't respond, Rafe moved a little closer, adjusting his waistband in the process. What the Pogues didn't know was that the Kook also had a gun, tucked carefully between the band of his boxers and his khakis, the barrel resting gently against the curve of his lower back.

"But," Rafe's voice trickled softly into the night air, "If you try to kill me," He locked eyes with JJ, "I will slit your throat without hesitation."

JJ's head immediately snapped towards Topper and Kelce, who were already holding their guns out in plain sight, their fingers playfully ghosting over the trigger.

"Who said anything about killing you," The Pogue hissed before catching a glance at Cassiopeia, who remained frozen in place, "Ah, how could I be so stupid?"

Rafe raised an eyebrow, almost entertained by the shorter boy, "Stupid runs in the family, don't you know that already Maybank?" He laughed coolly.

A frown fell onto his rigid lips, "Stop beating around the bush."

"Enlighten me."

"Admit to what you did," JJ's voice is firm, an icy gleam had glazed over the boy's once playful blue orbs.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Rafe's response was almost too quick but highly expected.

Cassiopeia turned her attention back to her trembling body, feeling as though she was super-glued to the porch. She figured the accumulation of sweat had likely built up due to her altercation with JJ. Her eyes darted towards the rest of the Pogues. John B stood protectively in front of Sarah, and the golden hair girl rested her hands on the boy's broad shoulders, peering over at her brother. Pope stood with his feet flat and a good distance apart, knees bent and ready to lunge at one of the Kooks if need be. Cassiopeia's gaze jumps towards Topper, who is shaking his head at Pope. She sadly knows that her friend has never stood a chance against the Kook's infamous beatings, often leaving the boy bloody and bruised for days. Her eyes next flick to Kiara who is carefully examining Topper's car, likely contemplating if she can devise a decent enough distraction which would allow her to take control of the vehicle. Cassiopeia's eyes finally rest on Rafe. As she traced the outline of his figure, it dawned on her how oddly calm he was. Her gaze rested upon his mouth, a smirk claiming its place on his blush-stained lips. He doesn't seem nervous, more so entertained, as if these types of deadly altercations were normal for him. When her eyes rest on his, she knows he can feel her lingering stare. He instantly shoots a look over at the girl. His smirk grows a little, and she watches as one of his eyes flutters before winking shut at her. A wave of ease washes over her instantaneously and burrows itself into the hollow pit that lay dormant in her stomach. She can't remember the last time someone has made her feel like this besides Rafe. She now realizes he doesn't even have to touch her to make her crumble into pieces.

Her gaze darts to the domineering Pogue. His arms were so tense that she could likely sketch out his prominent veins. A small pool of sweat had collected on his forehead. She could tell he was nervous, and had every reason to be. Rafe was nearly unbeatable. He was unstable, unpredictable and impulsive. Any move that JJ would make, Rafe always seemed to counter it, he was always one step ahead and that infuriated the boy. The distaste he had for the Kook likely stemmed from when they were kids. Rafe always grew up with everything, JJ had ended up with nothing. Perhaps this was how JJ felt now, spending years to pick up the puzzle pieces and rebuild, only for Rafe to swoop in once more destroy the puzzle. Cassiopeia felt sorry for him in a way. He was exhausted, his baby blues were accompanied by heavy bags and fine forehead lines. His dirty blonde locks were tousled and unkempt, a few strands framing his tired expression. JJ was drained and Cassiopeia knew he was close to throwing it all away. He didn't have a promising life here on the island, especially with his father and close relatives out of the picture. He had nothing, besides the promise of the return of a long-lost friend, which also was abruptly stolen from his grasp.