STRANGE LOVE | RAFE CAMERON |

CHAPTER 15: | PLEASE DON'T LEAVE |

When the cops caught Topper instead of John B, Rafe came home seething with rage. The frustration gnawed at him, a relentless beast within. He stormed into his room, the door slamming behind him with a force that reverberated through the walls. The room felt suffocating, closing in on him as he began frantically tearing through drawers and cabinets, desperately searching for something—anything—that could calm the storm raging inside his mind.

Allison emerged from the bathroom, her body wrapped in a towel, the steam still clinging to her skin. Concern was etched across her features as she observed Rafe's erratic behavior. "When did you get back? Did they catch John B?" she asked, her voice tentative, barely cutting through the tension thickening the air.

Rafe barely glanced at her, his eyes wild with frustration. "No," he snapped, his voice sharp and clipped, a knife slicing through the fragile peace that hung between them. He continued his search, the desperation in his movements growing with each passing second.

"What are you looking for?" Allison asked, stepping closer to him, trying to pierce through the wall he was building around himself.

"Cocaine. I need it," Rafe replied, his voice strained, cracking under the weight of his desperation. The admission was raw, a confession of the chaos swirling inside him.

Allison's heart clenched at his words. "We don't have any," she said gently, trying to calm the tempest within him, but Rafe's response was immediate and violent. He slammed his fist into the nightstand, the impact reverberating through the room, causing Allison to flinch in shock.

"Rafe—" she began, her voice trembling with concern, but he cut her off, his expression fierce, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Don't talk," he growled, his voice low and menacing, a threat hanging in the air between them.

"But—" she tried again, her heart pounding in her chest, only to be met with Rafe's hand gripping her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin with a painful pressure.

"That hurts, Rafe," Allison cried out, struggling to pull away, her eyes wide with fear as he used his other hand to slam the door shut behind her. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls pressing in as Rafe's grip tightened, his desperation transforming into something darker.

"I need a fix, and you used all of my coke," Rafe hissed, his voice dripping with accusation, each word cutting into her like a blade.

"It wasn't just yours. I paid for that shit too," Allison retorted, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. The defensiveness in her tone only seemed to fuel Rafe's rage.

Rafe closed his eyes, trying to regain control, but the frustration was too much. "I told you to shut up," he muttered through gritted teeth, his grip tightening around her wrist.

"No. What is going on, Rafe? Please talk to me," Allison pleaded, her voice filled with desperation, as she tried to shake off his hands, to break through the wall he was putting up between them.

"I told you what's going on. Are you stupid?" Rafe spat, his words sharp, cutting deep into her heart.

Allison tried to remain composed, but the wave of hurt crashing over her was too much. "Okay, if you need it that much, we can get the drug—" she began, but her words were cut off by a sharp tug on her hair, Rafe's hand yanking her head back with a roughness that sent a jolt of pain down her spine.

"Rafe!" Allison exclaimed, tears springing to her eyes, but he didn't respond. Instead, he dragged her by her hair, his grip unyielding as he threw her unceremoniously onto the bed, face first.