Good Days •Rafe Cameron•

September 27th

    My fingers guided the razor across Rafe's head as I carefully remove the hair that has fallen on his shoulders. I brushed the blond locks onto the bathroom floor.
    My lips pouting as I hoped he would look good with a shaven head.
      "Are you done?" Rafe hummed. "Yeah." I answered, shutting the razor off and putting it down on the sink.
    I stepped in front of him. A bright smile came upon my lips as I sighed with relief. He looked good.
      "So...?" Rafe said. I turned him around in the chair, so that he could face the mirror.
     Rafe stood up from the chair. He immediately rubbed his hands along his head. "Hmm." He hummed.
    "What?" I questioned. "You don't like it?" I asked.
     He shakes his head. "No, it's just different. That's all." He shrugs his shoulders. "It makes you look mature." I smile at the tall man before me.
     Twenty-eight days. That's how long it has been since we've made it to Guadeloupe. And in the past four weeks, Rose has become a worried alcoholic. Ward sometimes is lucid enough to understand what's going on. And Wheezie is Wheezie. I can tell she misses Sarah.
      Rafe's hands wraps themselves around my waist as he pulls my back close to his front. "You wanna go back to our room?" He whispered, hungrily in my ear.
     And what have we've been doing in the past four weeks? Well, Rafe has done nothing but try to make everything up to me. He hasn't yelled once. He takes me out on dates. Buys me flowers. And let's just say he's always looking for a reason to get me in bed.
    I didn't mind one bit. But even after all the wooing. I still felt paranoia.
    I wanted to leave Guadeloupe. Find Kiara. And get back home.
    There was a news channel with me and the Pogues faces on the screen. Our description written under our pictures.
    September 27th being the last day anyone had seen us.
     "Some people are coming over tomorrow." Rafe says, stepping out of the bathroom. I follow him down the hall. "What for?" I asked.
    "I'm gonna sell the cross." Rafe shrugs like it's no big deal.
     "Yo! What?" I exclaimed. "You want to sell the cross. After everything the Pogues went through? What I went through?" I quickly step in front of him blocking his way.
    "Yeah, Dad isn't doing too great at the moment. And it's my job to step up. I got the cross for this family." He says, pointing a finger at his chest.
    I scoff. "No, The Pogues and I got this cross. And don't forget that it doesn't even belong to you. It belongs to Pope."
     "Phoebe, how many times do I have to go over this with you? It doesn't work like that. Not anymore at least. I'm gonna sell the cross and that's final." His voice is on the cusp of being raised.
    "I knew it was too good to be true." I cross my arms and turn away from him. "Be? Baby?" Rafe starts. "I promised you when we got off this island that I would be better. I don't wanna fight." He says. I feel his hands caress my cheeks as his fingers move to the nape of my neck.
     My curly hair was much lighter from having been dyed by the sun. The once dark curls were now turning a light brown with a hint of honey blonde highlights.
    The Caribbean sun has peppered freckles across my face leaving several new moles on my skin.
     I look into Rafe's eyes. His deep blue eyes. He pulls me closer to him chest. "Just hear me out for a few more days, okay." He asked.
    A small smile appears on my lips. "Fine." I giggled giving in.
     "That's my girl." Rafe pulls me in for a kiss. My lips mold into his as I lift myself in my toes. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in deeper.
     An interrupting cough, separates the two of us. Rafe and I pull away from each other.
    Wheezie stood at the end of the hall. "Wanna watch another season of Grey's Anatomy?" Wheezie asked. I immediately nod my head. "Yes, of course." I beamed with excited. You're gonna love season 6 trust me!" I skip over to the 14 year old girl.
      "Really, Be? I thought you were hanging out with me tonight?" Rafe pouts. "Sorry, can't help but choose one of the greatest shows over you." I smile, pulling Wheezie into her room.
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The zipper on the back of my dress tightened as Rafe pulled it further up. I smoothed out the wrinkles along the hems before turning around and giving him a quick kiss on the lips.
"You're beautiful." Rafe says, smiling down at me. His hands fall on my behind as he pulls me into his chest swaying my body with him.
"I wish our lives could be like this forever. Just you and me alone on our own island." He whispers. I shake my head. "Rafe you are too tense to stay in one place forever. You like to party. A slow life like this isn't in your future." I state.
"Hey, I'm a changed man, okay. Who says I can't live like this forever?" He asked. "Rafe, I don't wanna even live like this. I wanna go back home. I wanna find my friends. What about Kiara? Or Sarah? Do you even care about her?" I asked.
"Kiara and Sarah are fine, trust me." Rafe rolls his eyes. They're like cockroaches. Always surviving and crawling around."
I pull my lips into a thin line. "Nice analogy, doofus." I flick my finger on his forehead. Before pulling myself out of his grip.
"I'm serious, Rafe. It's been a month. Mike and Anna are probably worried sick. Ward has become a worry wart over his missing child. Rose is on the brink of becoming an alcoholic. Wheezie desperately misses her big sister. And you're supposed to be the big brother who reassure her. You're not there for her. Neither of your family is there for Wheezie. And if we stay on this island any longer; it's just gonna push everyone further from each other." I explain.
Rafe puts his hands up in surrender. "All right. I hear you. Let's just get through this week and I'll help you find Kiara." He smiles.
"And your sister." I pushed. "And my sister, yes." He nods.
"Great! Let's go!" I pull his out the room and into the foyer of the beach house.
Rose stood desperately at the door with tall glass of Tom Collins in her hand as she ran her fingers through her hair.
"If you're gonna stand desperately at the door, Rose like a worried child, then I suggest you wait in the living room." Rafe glares at his stepmom.
Rose takes another sip of her drink. "You're an ass, Rafe." She scoffs. Rose glares at me as she walks further into the house.
The doorbell suddenly rings. Rafe takes a moment, brushing out his suit before he opens the door.
"Ahh, Rafe Cameron!" A dark skin woman smiles as she shakes hands with Rafe. Her thick French accent slurred heavily as she stepped inside. Behind her a short well dress man with wide glasses smiles at Rafe and I.
"You must be Mr, Cameron's wife." The woman assumes. Before I could correct her, Rafe smiles. "Yes, she is. This is Phoebe Cameron." Rafe says. "Tu es absolument magnifique. Je suis Michel and Paola." Michel says, as he takes my hand.
"Enchanté de vous rencontrer tous les deux. Veuillez vous joindre à moi et à mon mari dans le salon." I speak in French guiding the couple into the living room.
I take Rafe's hand as the two of us sit on the couch across from Michel and Paola. Rose takes a seat in one of the lone chairs in the corner of the room.
"Again, thank you both for coming." Rafe starts. "I know it was a long way to travel. But I think what we have is pretty worthwhile." He states.
His demeanor was firm and confident. Something he obviously learned from his dad. Having the construction company run in the family must have helped Rafe with learning how to make a business deal.
"Yes. Well, Michel is the most prominent antiquities dealer of the West Indies. Unfortunately, he only speaks French." Paola explains.
"What is French for priceless?" Rafe smirks.
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Rafe rolls out the cross pulling the sheet from it, allowing Michel and Paola to see the artifact.
They stare in awe and in disbelief. Michel adjusted the glasses in his face as he hovers his fingers along the gold.
"Puis-je le touché? Michel says. "Uh, may he touch it?" Paola translates.
"Knock yourself out, Michel." Rafe smiles. "Oui ." Paola nods.
Michel quickly runs his fingers along the gold. "Je pense que c'est ce qu'il veut. C'est tellement complexe. Puis-je voir le iPad?"
Paola hands over the iPad she is holding. Michel lift to screen, revealing an identical drawing of the cross.
"Où as-tu eu ça? Michel turns to Rafe. "He wants to know where you found it." Paola asked. "Don't worry about it. We got it. That's all he needs to know." Rafe said.
I raise my right brow at Rafe as I watch him become slightly agitated with the question.
"It's here. It's for sale. So who can we get to buy it? Rafe demands.
"For a piece like this of this value, there are very limited buyers. Like an institution, a museum. But Michel has a client in Barbados who will be interested. This client will have lots of questions. He'll want to meet with you in person." Paola hands Rafe and I a copy of Michel's card. "Call this number to arrange everything."
"You have phone?" Michel asked. "Yes sir, we do." I say. "Good. Very important." Michel smiles.
"Let's make a deal."