Me and the Devil

23.

I linger a moment longer with Rafe, my heart thudding from everything I'd just confessed. Offering up the gold to him - it was thought I hadn't fully allowed myself to examine until now, but it came out like I had no choice. I wanted him to know, wanted him to see I could be something...someone he might trust. Or maybe I just wanted to be needed.

Rafe's lips curve into a slow, dark smile, his gaze flickering with something I can't quite read. "You're full of surprises, you know that?" His voice is a low murmur, unguarded and raw in a way that pulls me into something I'm only beginning to understand. It's not safe, it's not smart, but it's something more. Something I have decided I can't let go of.

But as I stand preparing to leave, that familiar pang of guilt surges, The Pogue in me tugs at my conscience, reminding me of the others, waiting, and counting on me. They trusted me in a way Rafe never could, and I owed them. But the part of me growing closer to Rafe's wants to say. To get Rafe to trust me the same way.

"I should go. They're waiting for me."

He gives a quick nod, his gaze darkening, though he tries to hide it. "Right. Gotta keep up the Pogue appearance." There's bitterness in his tone, almost mocking, like he's daring me to choose him, to break free of them completely.

I lean down and press a kiss to his temple - a quiet reassurance that I'm now in this hunt for him too. Then, without another word, I pull myself away and head to meet the Pogues.

The Crain house looms before us, its sagging roof and ivy-colored walls casting long shadows in the dusk. It's practically swallowed by overgrowth, its cracked windows buried beneath vines and rust. There's a chill to the air, a dampness that settles into my bones, and as we approach, I glance back , half-expecting to find the house watching us.

JJ jumps right into his ghost story about Mrs. Crain, looking at me for backup, and for a moment, we're like ourselves again.

"He's right. Hollis was his babysitter. She told us all the stories that her mother killed her father, and how she was a murderer and all." I smile with nostalgia despite the tension between us.

"When Hollis was six years old, she heard her parents arguing downstairs. So she goes downstairs to see her mom washing her hands in the sink...full of blood. The next morning, her mom tells her that she and her dad split up. Over the next few days, her mother is constantly in and out with plastic bags..."

"God you're so full of shit," John B interrupts, rolling his eyes. "Even if she was an ax murderer, I have nothing to lose. All I know is we gotta look for the wheat near the water. Come on."

"Okay, like what kind of water?" Pope asks "Pond water?"

"Bong water?" JJ jokes, smirking and elbowing me for a reaction. But his smile fades, quickly replaced by a frown as he remembers everything that has happened between us the last few days.

"It just said to look for water," insists John B, as he moves closer to the house. We all follow behind him, me and JJ at the back.

As we are trudging through the weeds and bushes, a flock of birds rustles in one of the bushes, squawking. Wings start flapping frantically, as JJ yells. "Oh shit!" Instinctively, I put my hand over his mouth, and our eyes meet. In that moment I realize he's already sensed it - the right between us, growing with every secret I kept.

He moves away from me towards the crawl space that John B, Pope, and Kiara had just gone down into. It's a narrow door, near the back of the house, hidden beneath a sagging staircase, and the dark gap looks even worse than the house itself.

Shuffling inside, it's tight and cramped, and the air is thick with stale air and rot. The ground is soft and damp beneath us. Our flashlight beams through the dimness, catching on spider webs and discarded junk, but no water anywhere.

Irritation creeps into me. "Another dead end?"

From behind, I hear JJ's scoff. "You got something to say?"

I turn to face him, heart pounding. His expression is hard, colder than I've ever seen it. "Look if we're all just wasting our time here -"

JJ cuts me off, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell is going on with you? You're complaining about the hunt, and don't think I don't notice how you've been acting around Rafe Cameron lately. Is this because we kissed?" His voice softens, a note of vulnerability slipping through.

My stomach twists, a mix of anger and guilt tangling together. Before I even think about it, my hand flies up, slapping his face the sting radiating up my arm. The Pogues fall silent, eyes wide.

"Stop treating me like I'm some girl who should be obsessed with you, instead of your best friend!" My voice wavers, and for a second, I feel a pang of regret.

He looks stunned, his hand touching his cheek where I hit him. "Skeeter." I say holding up my hand with the smushed mosquito from JJ's face.

JJ slaps me back and the Pogues gasp this time. "Skeeter" He holds up his hand.

Pope steps in betweenus, looking skeptical as to why there are so many mosquitoes in the crawl space. He shines his flashlight to a few boards laid out on the dirt floor. He frowns, then stomps down. A hollow, echoing sound answers him. We all freeze, exchanging glances, and my heart skips a beat, the thrill of discovery surging through me. Pope bends down, prying up a loose board, and the faintest splash of water reverberates back as pebbles from years old floor boards drop down.

"Well. Well. Well." JJ mutters, a grin tugging at his lips, and for a second, it feels like old times. Despite everything, I can't help but smile back.

"We're going to need a really big rope." John B says, a hint of excitement breaking through.

I glance at JJ, our brief fight temporarily forgotten, and something inside me feels lighter. But it's fleeting - I know why I'm really here, and the thought gnaws at me. This gold isn't just for us, for the Pogues. It's for Rafe, and no one else knows it.