Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

fifteen

The hotel room was small and old, not Rafe's typical luxury stay, but more than enough for Isla. The only problem was all the room consisted of was a bathroom, a closet, a desk, and a single sized bed.

Sure they slept in the same bed before, but that was a California king. In Islas mind they were practically on two separate islands.

'This is some poor people shit,' Rafe complained. He looked at Isla to see that he clearly offended her a little. Sometimes he forgot she was poor. 'Sorry.'

'You're good.'

Rafes phone buzzed, it was Ward. For some reason that made Isla's heart drop to her stomach. He opened the next message. 'Shit. I forgot.'

'What is it?' Isla asked.

'Look— don't get all angry on me alright?' Rafe said.

'Can't promise that, but tell me anyways,' she replied.

'The gold, my dad's flying it out tomorrow. To our Bahama's house. He wants me to go with him.'

Isla had forgotten who Rafe was for the day. Today, he was sweet and compassionate. He was the best version of himself. Now he was back to the thief she had known. She chewed on her lip.

'But listen, you can still stay here. I've got this place reserved for a week, I'll only be gone for a few days,' Rafe told her. Where she slept really wasn't her biggest concern right now.

'We'll grab lunch before I go. You can come to the tarmac with me. Maybe I'll ever be able to get you a few bars of gold.'

He was offering to give her back a portion of what he took from her. If it was anyone else she'd laugh, saying that wasn't enough, that it wasn't as generous as they thought it was. But she couldn't recall a time in Rafe's life where he had been giving or kind. And here he was, practically offering her a few thousand dollars.

'You'd do that?' Isla said, stunned.

'Yeah, for you I would.'

Isla couldn't wrap her head around this. He didn't make sense to her anymore. Nothing made any sense. Every time she thought she understood the situation something happened to prove her wrong.

She found herself asking herself what Rafe wanted from her. She knew how manipulative he was. She just couldn't figure out what she would have that he would want. Was it something related to the gold? Was it her body? Was it to hush her from telling anyone about his dad?

'Time to go to bed I guess,' Rafe said.

Isla digged through her bag of brand new clothing to find a pair of pyjamas. The first thing she found was a silk pyjama set, a white tank top and shorts with lace trim. She didn't wanna search any longer so she just went with those. She went into the bathroom and slipped them on.

When she came out Rafe was getting into bed, wearing only his boxers. Seriously? They had to share a single bed, and he couldn't even put a shirt on?

Isla flipped off the light switch and got into the bed, her body pressing against his in the tight space. She turned over to face him. 'What do you want, Rafe?'

'What do I want? What does that mean?'

'There's gotta be a reason for all this. I know you're not doing it out of the kindness of your heart.'

'I don't know why I'm doing it. But I am, and I'm happy about it.'

'Rafe, you hate me. There's something you want from me. There has to be, because if not none of this makes sense.'