book 2 of 4
on the outside, looking in, bianca prescott was back to who everyone knew her as- kook princess, island royalty, who couldn't give less of a fuck about the pogues like they were poo on her jimmy choo's.
but bianca had a hit list. just...
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Bratcher parked the car half a mile away from Barry's run-down old caravan, out of view from prying eyes. The two officers bid Bianca farewell, telling her to call them at the first sign of trouble.
The girl couldn't help but scowl at the debris littered across dead grass as she made her down. The mobile vehicle itself was falling apart at the rusted seams with insects crawling out its crevices. The curtains were tightly shut, the only indication that anyone was in there being pacing footsteps and low whispers emanating from within.
Bianca's feet felt heavy as she made her way towards the caravan, stomach twisting anxiously. Her heart hammered in her chest, raising her fist to knock on the door with hesitation.
Finally, she brought her hand down with three knocks, forcing the two voices to shush each other from inside. Bianca crossed her arms over her chest, taking a step back and awaiting a response. There was more shuffling before the door swung open, revealing Barry in his white muscle tank.
"Well, hello there, princess," He cooed mockingly, leaning his arm against the frame.
A scowl morphed on the girl's lips at the nickname, a surge of irritation coursing through her veins that the moniker came from his mouth and not the blond-haired, blue-eyed pogue. Bianca hated nicknames, there was a fine line between who could call her what and Barry had definitely crossed it.
"Don't fucking call me that," She snapped as the naive demeanor she'd tried to maintain melted away instantly.
"Ooh, scary," Barry teased with a scoff. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Bianca opened her mouth to retort, but she was cut off when a low voice chimed in, "Who is it?"
"Thought I told you to sit down and shut up, Country Club," Barry rolled his eyes but stepped back, nevertheless, and allowed Rafe to appear at the doorway.
Bianca felt a shiver snake up her spine as Rafe towered over Barry's shoulder. His gaze connected with hers and immediately she noticed the low-lidded and slightly bloodshot look in his eyes. He was high.
"Bianca?" Rafe's breath hitched at the sight of the girl, still as beautiful as the day he fell in love with her. The sunlight pooled like liquid gold against her tan skin and maybe it was the cocaine causing his heart to palpate, but he swore it skipped a beat, "What- what are you doing here?"
His chest soared at the prospect of her returning to take him back, but despite his pipe dream, he was not so stupid to be ensnared in her trap. Because despite what she thought, he knew Bianca better than she knew herself and the only reason she would be here was if she had an ulterior motive.
