Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 9

The second I walked away, the realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

What did I just do?

I hugged Rafe Cameron. I actually threw my arms around him like some kind of idiot, like he was a friend or... or something else.

I let out a shaky breath, pressing my hands to my face as I leaned against the wall just outside the club. My skin still tingled where I'd touched him, the memory of his arms wrapping around me—hesitant at first, then almost... comforting—sending a shiver down my spine.

I shouldn't have done that. I really shouldn't have done that.

What had gotten into me? Just because he'd helped me out—just because he'd saved my job—I'd gone and... and hugged him like a complete idiot. As if one nice gesture could erase everything I knew about him. As if one moment of kindness could make me forget that this was Rafe Cameron.

I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall. The worst part was that, for a split second, it had felt... good. Right, even. Like being in his arms wasn't the worst place in the world to be. But that was insane. That was dangerous.

Rafe wasn't someone I should be getting close to. He was arrogant, manipulative, and more than a little dangerous. And yet... he'd helped me. He didn't have to. He could have just watched me get fired, watched me struggle. But he didn't.

"Ugh," I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut tighter. "What the hell is wrong with you, Tess?"

I couldn't afford to get caught up in whatever game he was playing. I had to keep my distance, keep my guard up. Because if I didn't...

If I didn't, I'd end up getting burned.

With a sigh, I straightened, brushing my hair out of my face. I couldn't stand out here all day, wallowing in regret. I had to get back to work, finish my shift, and pretend like I wasn't a complete mess inside.

I pushed off the wall and made my way back inside the club, forcing a smile onto my face as I passed by the other waitstaff. I could still feel Rafe's eyes on me, but I didn't look his way. I couldn't. Not without giving away how shaken up I felt.

Just keep moving, I told myself. Just keep your head down and keep moving.

But as I picked up my tray and went back to serving drinks, my thoughts kept drifting back to him—back to the way he'd looked at me, the way his hands had hovered uncertainly before he finally hugged me back.

What had that meant? Why had he even bothered? Rafe didn't do anything unless there was something in it for him. So what was it this time?

I frowned, the confusion and uncertainty swirling around in my head like a storm I couldn't quite escape. No matter how hard I tried to push it down, it kept coming back.

Why did he help me? Why did he care?

But I didn't have time to dwell on it. The rest of my shift flew by, a blur of smiling faces and polite conversations I barely registered. By the time I clocked out, I was exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally.

I needed to get home. Needed to get away from this place and sort through the tangled mess of thoughts in my head.

---

The house was quiet when I got home. Dad was in his usual spot on the couch, his feet propped up on the worn ottoman, a blanket draped over his legs. But something about the way he was slouched, his face pale and pinched, made my heart twist with worry.