𝔅𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔦𝔢 - Rafe Cameron

①②

...

Two days later, Jazmine sat in the living room, her fingers mindlessly combing through Bella's fur as the dog nestled against her. Her mind was a whirlwind, Kiara's words echoing endlessly.

Her sister was right, even if Jazmine hated to admit it. Rafe's past was what it was, and she couldn't ignore it anymore. She wasn't an angel either—she had stolen, fought, and done things she wasn't proud of. 

But there was always a line she refused to cross, and she knew the danger she faced every time she disobeyed one of Singh's orders. She had gambled with her life but had never let herself become like him.

For days, she had clung to the hope that she could change Rafe—that with love and patience, he could find happiness and leave the past behind. She wanted to believe they could escape it all together. But deep down, the truth lingered.

The front door creaked open, and Rafe stepped inside with a small smile. He had finally signed the contract and couldn't wait to share the news.

For days, he had noticed Jazmine drifting through the house like a shadow. She barely spoke, ate little, and slept far away from him. It confused him—after the night they'd spent together, he thought things were getting better. He thought they were on the right track, ready to move forward. But seeing her now, distant and detached, something felt irreparably wrong.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jazmine replied simply.

Rafe hesitated before nodding toward the door. "Come on, I want to show you something."

Jazmine frowned slightly but stood, following him out to the car. The drive was quiet, filled with an awkward tension neither dared to break. After a few minutes, they pulled up to a vast shoreline—a windswept expanse of grass stretching toward the horizon, with a small island visible in the distance. Jazmine recognized it immediately: Goat Island. She'd seen it before on a map.

Rafe stopped and turned to her, his expression serious.

"Listen, I need to say something," he began, his voice steady but laced with vulnerability. "I'm sorry—for everything. For what happened on the beach, for the whole mess with Topper, and everything else. My behavior was... it's been inexcusable."

Jazmine gave a small nod but stayed silent.

"I'm tired of all this—'Pogues this, Pogues that,'" he added, frustration creeping into his tone.

Her gaze hardened. "I'm one of them, Rafe."

She found it ridiculous—the way they used to call each other by those nicknames, as if they meant something real.

"I know," he said quickly, "and I get it now. I'm sorry I threw it in your face. But the truth is, I don't care about all that anymore. I'm not like Topper or the rest of them, alright?"

Rafe stepped closer, his voice softening. "My dad... he was a Pogue too, and look at everything he accomplished. I've spent so much time trying to make him proud, but more than anything, Jazmine, I want to make you proud."

He exhaled, searching her eyes. "The day I met you, even back when I started falling for you, I promised myself I'd protect you. No matter what. And that hasn't changed."