Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 56

Rafe's POV

The boat rocks gently beneath us as I paddle through the calm, glassy water of the lake, the silence only broken by the soft splash of oars and the distant hum of crickets. It's a clear night—too clear. The kind of night where you can see everything, where there's no place to hide. But it's fine. Everything's fine. This is just another job, another loose end to tie up. After this, I'll be in the clear.

Or so I keep telling myself.

I glance over at Barry, who's sitting opposite me, his eyes flicking between the lake's shore and the dark water around us. There's a tension in his posture that sets me on edge, but I brush it off. Barry's always jumpy. Just another paranoid junkie, always looking over his shoulder, always expecting someone to screw him over. I can't blame him—I'm the same way.

But tonight... something feels different. The air feels too thick, too heavy. And Barry's quiet—too fucking quiet.

"You okay, man?" I mutter, leaning into the oar, pushing the boat forward with another steady stroke. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

Barry's gaze snaps to mine, and I see something flash in his eyes—something dark, something almost... pitying. But then it's gone, and he lets out a low, nervous chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, waving a hand dismissively. "Just don't like being out here in the open, you know? You sure this is the best place to do it?"

I grit my teeth, suppressing the surge of annoyance that rises up inside me. "Where else do you wanna go, Barry?" I snap, my voice low, dangerous. "This is the middle of fucking nowhere. No one's gonna find us here."

He nods slowly, his gaze shifting back to the shore. "Right. Yeah. You're probably right."

"Of course I'm right," I mutter under my breath, leaning back on the oar, the muscles in my arms straining as I pull the boat closer to the center of the lake. It's dark, the only light coming from the moon's reflection on the water. I glance over the side of the boat, watching the ripples spread out in shimmering circles, then reach into my jacket, my fingers brushing against the cold, heavy metal of the gun my dad gave me, just in case.

I pull it out slowly, holding it up in the dim light, staring at it like it's some kind of wild animal—dangerous, unpredictable, and completely out of my control.

"Y'know..." I start, letting out a humorless chuckle, my gaze fixed on the gun. "Killing's nature, right? Kill or be killed. It's in our blood. In our DNA. Some of us just... enjoy it more than others." 

Barry's eyes snap to mine, a wary look flashing across his face, but I keep my expression blank, my mouth twisting into a bitter smile.

"I mean, it's like... a predator-prey thing, right? Some people are just born to do it," I continue, my voice soft, almost conversational. "They don't even have to think about it. Just... bang," I say, mimicking a gunshot with my finger, watching the way his eyes narrow, the way his jaw clenches.

"Some of us..." I pause, leaning back, letting my gaze drift up to the sky. "Some of us are just better at it."

Barry lets out a low, uncomfortable chuckle, shifting in his seat. "You've got a twisted way of lookin' at things, Rafe."

"Yeah, well, it's true," I murmur, my eyes dropping back to his. "And you know it too, don't you, Barry? You know exactly what I'm talking about."

But just as I say it, a sound reaches my ears—the faint whine of an engine in the distance. I freeze, my head snapping up, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.