Blue | Rafe Cameron

xl

My phone vibrated in my hand.

'Don't do this Rory, don't go to him.'

And then it vibrated again, another text coming in.

'He's dangerous, he could hurt you.'

And another.

'Just come back, we can't protect you if you're there.'

One second later, another vibration.

'I can't protect you.'

I sighed as I looked down at the train of texts and missed calls from JJ, dozens upon dozens of them, lighting up my screen again and again- him, pleading with me to answer, pleading with me not to do this.

"I'm sorry, JJ," I mutter lowly to myself, swallowing the lump in my throat as I press the side button, my hand shaking as I slide the bar to power off. The pain in my chest doesn't ease as I watch it fade to blackness, silencing every call and text- silencing every warning.

I release a tight breath as I tuck my phone back into my pocket and I try to stop the trembling in my knees as I take another step across the terrace rooftop.

It was so high.

"Don't look down, don't look down," I hiss through gritted teeth, my nails biting and breaking against the jagged concrete of the wall I held myself against, every step I take deliberate and slow. I knew even the smallest misstep would end badly, would result in me tumbling down the slant of this roof and falling the considerable height back down to the pavement below.

It had been easy to climb the large oak tree beside the Tannyhill estate, mercifully directly outside my window. It had even been easy to shimmy along the thick, protruding branch before just about managing to drag myself onto the roof.

The Pogue life had prepared me for the strenuous effort of climbing places that I shouldn't but that never made the height any easier- it didn't make walking across to get to my window any easier.

I tried to force myself to focus, to relish the distraction of every careful inch I moved forward, the feeling of the cold wall cutting into my back, the pressure of my feet against the curved tiles- I relished the fear and concentration.

Because then I didn't have to think.

Rafe shot Peterkin.

Rafe killed Peterkin.

Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

"Shit-" My foot slips against a puddle of rain and my body tilts on an axis backwards, hitting against the wall hard enough that I feel my skin tear and a gasp slip from my lips in surprise. I curse as I dig my heels in for leverage, my heart pounding as I trudge my feet back up, every movement stoic as I straighten and cement myself back against the wall.

"Crap, focus, focus-" I suck air into my lungs, hard and fast, and before I can let myself be consumed by my thoughts or the reality of where I was, I keep moving- step after step, inch by inch, following the wall toward my window.

It looked so easy in the movies, looked so simple to do and yet every blow of wind or droplet of rain made it harder to breathe, every second that passed as the night sky darkened made it harder to see or move, everything seemed so hard.

It feels like hours before I eventually make it to my window.

I brush my hair from my face as I squat down, the night wind freezing and cutting to the bone, blowing hard as if trying to throw me off or urge me inside. I cup my hands around my eyes, peering through the murky glass into the darkness of my room.