JJ's biggest flaw was his recklessness, and his bad ideas. Honestly, that didn't seem that bad to Bexley.
Rafe's biggest flaw? Jealousy. Pure, uncontrolled jealousy.
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tw: sexual content
Rafe paced the cell. His heart hadn't stopped slamming in his chest. Her arms hadn't stopped shaking.
He was freaking the fuck out.
He ripped off his jacket, tugging on the sides like that'd relieve his stress.
"This is a joke," he spat, to absolutely nobody. He was alone in the room. "This is a fucking joke!" He slammed his jacket onto the bed in the jail cell. "This is bullshit!"
His father would be here soon to get him out, he kept telling himself. His father would get him free.
But Rafe reminded himself of how pissed his dad would be that he hadn't gotten off this island intime.
In anger, he kicked the bed, over and over. It was chained to the wall, but jolted each time he laid his foot into it. Then, when it proved itself not to be enough, he kicked the wall, over and over.
A loud, piercing squeak hit his ears. The door to the cell room opened. He looked up to see who came in.
Sheriff Shoupe strolled into the holding room, another deputy beside him. They stood in front of the bars Rafe was locked behind.
"Rafe Cameron," Shoupe began, his voice laced with aggravation. "I'm gonna say this to you, and I'm only gonna say this once."
Internally, Rafe rolled his eyes, ready for whatever bullshit the sheriff was about to spew about doing the right thing.
"Ward already told us what you did," Shoupe continued. "He admitted that you shot Susan. That you framed John B. That you were behind it all. If you confess to it now, the law will go easy on you."
Yeah, right. Rafe scoffed. As if he'd be dumb enough to fall for the whole 'your partner already confessed' ruse.
"Easy on me, huh?" Rafe shook his head. He walked closer to the bars. "You think I believe any of that shit you just said?"
"Confess, Rafe," Shoupe told him. "Just do it, dammit. Don't make us go through all this. The town has grieved enough."
Rafe shrugged, feigning a face of ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about, Shoupe. I really don't."
"You realize the maximum penalty for what you have done is the death penalty," Shoupe pressed. "We have the evidence, Rafe. You will be convicted. But if you confess, if you show some fucking remorse, we can convince the judge to-"
"Remorse?" He let out a humorless laugh. Shaking his head, stepping away again, as if they were boring him, he said,"I don't have any remorse. Because I didn't do shit."
Shoupe grit his teeth. He took note of how completely uncaring the kook was. How Rafe had killed his partner, his best friend, and didn't care. It got to him. He spat, "Figures. You didn't have remorse for what you did to Bexley. Why would you have remorse for Susan?"
