Rogue | outer banks

011 - Rafe Cameron

It was around nine AM in the morning, and we were lounging in the HMS Pogue, soaking in the morning sun before diving back into the treasure hunt commotion.

JJ broke the serene moment by pointing towards the water. "You guys see that? That's the Malibu 24-MXZ, the world's finest wakesetter. Number one in luxury, quality, and performance. 200k easy."

Pope chimed in, adding a touch of humor, "we picked the wrong parents."

Kiara's expression soured as she recognized whose boat it was. "I hate to break it to you guys, but that's Topper and his girlfriend," she informed us.

As the boat drew closer, confirming Kiara's observation, Topper was at the helm, his arm casually draped around Sarah's shoulder.

I scoffed internally.

Topper parading around with my ex-bestfriend, Sarah, wasn't something I wanted to start my day with. The situation was like a cringe-worthy drama unfolding right in front of me. I couldn't help but mutter loud enough for them to hear as the two boats passed each other, "Don't act like you don't see us, bitch."

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And seeing Sarah in the morning, my internal dilemma reached a crescendo. Ever since Rafe stepped in to bail John B out, my thoughts had been entangled with the enigma that was the Cameron boy. Gratitude, a lingering need to reciprocate his unexpected help, and an undercurrent of suspicion regarding his involvement in my clash with Topper created a complex web of emotions.

So as my friends headed to the Hotel on Figure Eight to browse through the internet for our next clue in this treasure hunt, I found myself at the Camerons.

I let myself into the house, guided by the echoes of raised voices emanating from the balcony. Hastily, I positioned myself behind a nearby wall, ensuring I remained out of sight while allowing me to eavesdrop on the unfolding commotion between Ward and Rafe.

"I just don't feel like you care!" Ward's authoritative voice sliced through the air.

"I said I do, what more do you want me to say?" Rafe retorts, sounding exasperated and I strain to hear Ward's disgruntled muttering.

"I don't want you to say it, Rafe, I want you to do it and take care of business," Ward demands, clearly frustrated, and I hear the clink of his glass against the table. "Where are the backup generators I gave you money for?"

"They're on back-order," Rafe grumbles, but his tone was unsteady, suggesting he's lying, and I hear Ward scoff, humourless amusement evident in his demeanour. "There was a hurricane, they're on back-order," Rafe continues defensively.

"You know what son," Ward says, and I can hear the disappointment in his tone, that parental judgement obvious, "that Pogue boy I fired, way more reliable than you."

"Right, so reliable he stole from you," Rafe muses sardonically and I can practically see him rolling his eyes at the statement. "Looks like Lia has you drinking the Pogue Kool-aid too."

I furrow my brows at his bitter words but I can't help the shiver that was sent down my spine at the sound of my nickname, a rare utterance from Rafe's lips.

"This isn't about the Pogues or the teenage lover's tiff between you and Lia," Ward scolds harshly, "this is about you stepping up and taking some responsibility."

"What lover's tiff are you talking about?" Rafe protests.

"You need to get it together Rafe, or you can go live on The Cut," Ward said sternly, making Rafe chuckle. "Is that funny to you?"