//Rafe Cameron\\
"You don't make deals with the devil, not unless you want to dance with him and maybe I did"
Lily Grant has spent her whole life slumming it with the pogues, being that she is one.
They're her day ones, her best friends. Life coul...
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My eyes flicker from Sarah's frantic state to Rafe who scrubs his hands down his face. "Rafe you have-" "Fuck Sarah I'm fucking trying!" He growls, pulling his phone back out before pacing around the room.
My stomach coils into anxious knots, nausea overtaking it's state of functioning. I've never been an anxious person or someone who got anxiety easily but this is different.
I awoke this morning to Sarah shouting over the phone. My fuzzy state of sleep quickly fading at the horrid look in her eyes. Stumbling out of bed and frantically asking questions before the line went dead.
Explaining to me that John B had called her in a state of angered panic, claiming Ward had tried to coax him into giving up the location of the gold and attacked him when he refused. Somehow confessing to killing his father in the mix before a fight between the two broke lose and John B escaped the boat via a jet ski on board. Of course Ward would have had an ulterior motive. What better way to ambush someone than out on a boat in the middle of no where?
Watching as Sarah anxiously bites down on her fingers, her lips swollen from crying along with the redness tinting her eyes. Neither Sarah nor Rafe are fond of their father. Both blaming him for the death of their mother. Despite the trauma induced gap driven between them, it was the one thing they could agree on. Rafe didn't hesitate to get involved the second Sarah called him nor did he question the reliance in John B's story. Of course he's telling the truth but Rafe has never been the trusting kind and certainly not towards someone he's not overly fond of but he knows Ward. He knows his father and his motives.
"Where are you-" "Stop" Rafe cuts Sarah off coldly, pulling his phone to his ear before exiting the room with an agonizing silence.
A tiny sob escapes Sarah's lips, pulling me from my state of blankness. I've never been too in tune with emotions of those around me. I'm not an emotional person, not when it comes to comforting people or crying over movies. More times than not if I was crying; it was from anger, pure exhaustion or the realization of hopelessness. That doesn't mean I don't try my best to comfort my friends even if a blanket of sand paper would do a better job than me.
"It'll be okay" I tell her as I lock my arms around her shoulders. Her fingers curling around my wrist, pressing her cheek to my shoulder. The florally scent of lavender filling my nose when I drop my chin to the top of her head. This entire situation is nerve wracking and feels like a fever dream..it would be for anyone but especially when it's your father. Even if Sarah knew all along who he was, confessing to murder and and attacking her boyfriend is a little bit more than worthy of a break down.
We sit in silence for I don't know how long. Sarah's brain undoubtedly racing incessantly, mine blank, emptier than a note book that's never been opened.
