Collateral || Rafe Cameron

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆

The days stretched into weeks, each one more agonizing than the last. Rafe had vanished from my life completely, and every time I tried to convince myself it was for the best, I felt a hollow ache gnawing at the edges of my chest.

I didn't know where he was, what he was doing, or if he was okay. All I knew was that the silence between us was suffocating. It was like a part of me had been ripped away, leaving behind a gaping void that I couldn't fill.

I wanted to hate him. I wanted to let the anger I had felt in the cabin consume me, to remember all the pain he had caused, all the lies and betrayal. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw the other side of him; the side he had tried to hide from everyone. The broken, vulnerable boy who had taken a bullet for me. The boy who had looked at me like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.

And now he was gone.

It wasn't long before I heard whispers. People in the Cut talked—rumors floated around about Rafe distancing himself from his father, about him trying to make something of himself outside of Ward's shadow. But I didn't know if I believed it. Rafe had been so deeply entrenched in his father's web, so caught up in the drugs and violence, that I didn't know if he could ever truly escape.

But the rumors made me wonder. Was he really trying to change? Was he trying to build a life outside of Ward's control?

I didn't have any answers. And that's what drove me to his door.

The night was cool, the breeze carrying the scent of salt and pine as I made my way through the narrow streets of the Cut, my heart pounding in my chest with every step. I didn't know what I was going to say to him, or if he would even want to see me. But I had to try. I had to know.

Rafe's house was quiet when I arrived, the lights off, the windows dark. For a moment, I hesitated, my stomach twisting with nerves. What if he wasn't home? What if he didn't want to see me? But before I could talk myself out of it, I knocked on the door, my heart racing.

There was no answer at first. I could feel my pulse quickening, doubt creeping in as I waited in the silence. But just as I was about to turn and walk away, I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the other side of the door.

The door creaked open slowly, and there he was—Rafe.

He looked different. The usual cocky arrogance that had always been etched into his features was gone, replaced by something quieter, something more fragile. His face was pale, his eyes tired and hollow, like he hadn't slept in days. He looked thinner, too, like he had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for far too long.

"Ronnie?" His voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, as if he couldn't believe I was standing there.

"Hey," I whispered back, my throat tight with emotion.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. We just stood there, staring at each other in the dim light of the doorway, the silence between us heavy with all the things we hadn't said. I could see the pain in his eyes, the guilt, the regret. And it broke my heart all over again.

"Can I come in?" I asked softly, my voice trembling slightly.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with uncertainty before he stepped aside, letting me in. The house was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of cigarettes and something else I couldn't quite place. It was clear he had been living in isolation, shutting himself off from the world.

I followed him into the living room, my heart pounding in my chest as I glanced around. The place was a mess—clothes were strewn across the floor, empty bottles littered the table, and the faint scent of alcohol hung in the air. It was like looking at the wreckage of a life that had been spiraling out of control for far too long.