Rogue | outer banks

033 - 25K

Rafe's POV:

The sun beat down on the terrace of the Island Club, casting shadows that offered some respite from the scorching heat. Me, Topper, and Kelce gathered in the limited shade, seeking refuge from the relentless sun.

"You think you-know-who, they're fucking yet?" Kelce's crude remark cut through the air, and I raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

"Shut up—HEY!" Topper snapped back at Kelce, frustration evident in his gesture. Kelce, undeterred, continued his teasing, trying to provoke a reaction. "You think I want to hear this right now?" Topper shot back, his annoyance palpable.

I tuned out their banter, my mind drifting elsewhere. The last thing I wanted to discuss was someone else's personal life, especially when my mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Amelia.

Amelia.

The thought of her lingered in my mind like a subtle melody, playing in the background of my thoughts. We had been getting closer, bridging the gap that had once seemed insurmountable. Instead of the constant arguments and death glares, we found ourselves in a space where we could enjoy each other's company.

As Kelce continued his relentless teasing, I couldn't help but smile inwardly at the thought of her.

"Dude, I ain't tryna pry in your business," Topper's voice snapped me from my thoughts as he approached. I looked at him, my jaw locked, a subtle tension in the air as our eyes met. "Is there something going on between you and my sister?"

"I'm not really following," I mused, raising a brow, feigning innocence, but the gravity of his question hung heavy between us.

Topper swallowed, taking a swig of his drink before hesitantly meeting my steely gaze again. "You almost beat up Leon to death at Midsummer—"

"Because he put his dirty hands on her," I cut him off, the words escaping with a raw intensity. "You should've been the one teaching him a lesson, but you were too busy crying over Sarah and pushing John B off a tower," I added sternly, not holding back the biting truth.

"I wasn't—" Topper started, but I cut him off, my frustration seeping into my voice.

"Which, by the way, is something you should really talk to Amelia about. Because the more you avoid her," I took a few steps towards him, my eyes burning into his, "the more she's going to want to rip your head off." I made it clear that there was no escaping the consequences of avoiding difficult conversations.

Before Topper could respond, I heard my name being called from a distance, a familiar rough-hewed tone cutting through the atmosphere. "Rafe Cameron!" The call made my body go rigid. "Rafe fucking Cameron!"

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," I muttered under my breath as I turned my head around, locking eyes with Barry, his face bruised, and his nose slightly crooked to the left. "What the hell are you doing here?" I said, brushing off the valet boy as I grabbed Barry by the shoulder, steering him towards the side, Topper following a few steps behind.

"Why does everyone think I'm some bitch they can shit on?" Barry turned, anger burning in his eyes. I furrowed my brow in confusion. "First I gotta deal with Lia—"

"Wait, Lia? Amelia? My Amelia?" Topper asked, his confusion mirroring my own.

"You got your money, Barry," I scowled, my chest puffing out as I narrowed my eyes at him. "You got your money."

"That ain't the point," Barry spat, shaking his head at me. "I'm asking you what I am, am I some little bitch, is that what people see when they look at me?"