𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

14.

Rafe was quiet for the last 10 minutes I've been in his room, barely picking up the pen from his desk. I wasn't sure what to talk about first; last night or the whole case. Clearly, he didn't either.

I longed to reach over and kiss him again, giving into my bodies waiting. Then again, I think he'd be brave enough to make the first move again. He left unexpectedly, gathering with the rest of the Cameron's to leave the party altogether. I assumed it had to do with Sarah.

Finally I broke the silence. "I think we should go see Dustin. If something goes wrong, we could possibly frame him for the whole thing before he goes to the cops."

Rafe didn't say anything for another minute. For a moment I thought he fell asleep if it wasn't for his little shuffle, lifting his arm to rest his head against. He shook his head. "No."

"No?" I scoffed. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

He sat up, "I mean, it's not my business figuring all this out."

My heart dropped to my stomach, reaching for a way he could better explain his sentence. "W-what?"

He licked his lips, annoyed with my cluelessness. "I agreed to help you because you came crying to me. But it really isn't my problem. You're the one who killed him, not me."

I wanted to puke from that one sentence being said out loud. A frown etched over my forehead. His words were like a stab in the heart. I killed him, but he promised to help.

"I didn't do it for you. I did it so you could shut your mouth and stop complaining about all the little things." In a flash, he stole the notes I held in my hand. "This. This is what I mean."

My words were stuck in my throat, pondering what I should say next, wondering where this sudden outburst came from. Finally, after a long pause, I choked down my questions. "Everyone was right about you."

"Excuse me?"

"Everyone was right. You're a fucking bitch. You don't give a shit about anyone except for yourself, and it isn't fucking cool." I snapped, sliding off the bed. "I can't believe a piece of me believed we could be friends. Last night I truly thought we would be something more. I should've fucking known." I laughed unbelievably.

Rafe flinched. I almost wanted to smile seeing the way I finally got to him. Other than that, he said nothing.

"I'm leaving." I mumbled, opening the door of his room, all the longing for him disappearing right as my foot placed itself an inch out of his bedroom doorway.

I passed the office, ready to stomp down the steps. Except, I hesitated right outside the office door. The black shape sitting on the desk, rising fear in my chest. I debated on leaving, but my feet carried me over to the desk where a gun sat. It wasn't the gun Rafe and I bought from Barry. I wasn't an expert on guns, but I knew that much. Besides, he wouldn't be this careless.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped, spinning around to face Rafe waiting in the doorway. I blocked the gun sitting on the desk, but he must've known it was there because his eyes flickered behind me.

"Why is there a gun on your desk?" My words came out so shaky for such a straightforward question.

It could just be for protection. We're all Kooks here trying to protect ourselves from the Pogues who love to break into houses. That's what I tried convincing myself of, though it still scared me.

He chuckled under his breath, scratching his nose with annoyance. "You couldn't of just left, could you? You're so fucking nosy."

I gulped from the sound of his voice. His tone wasn't at all like it has been for the past couple of days. Very different from the words that turned into conversations that convinced me we could possibly be friends after all.