P4L | Outer Banks | JJ Maybank

Ultimatum

When Cory came to, she was stuffed in some back closet of a boat. She could tell by the rocking underneath her feet.

Her hands and feet were still tied together, though her wound from the arrow had been bandaged. She also had a piece of cloth wrapped around her mouth.

Cory pulled herself to her feet, immediately beginning to scan the small room she was in.

Before she could even comprehend what tools were sitting around her, the door opened, leaking bright sunlight inside.

Rafe stood in the doorway, holding it open slightly.

Cory growled through the cloth in her mouth.

"Hey there, Cory," Rafe drawled.

Cory glared forward at him.

He reached forward to pull the cloth down.

"You gonna behave?" he asked.

Cory glared, but didn't do anything. He pulled the cloth down.

"What am I here for, Rafe?" Cory asked. "Why not just kill me like you killed Peterkin?"

Rafe scoffed. "I have no reason to kill you, Cory."

"Then why am I here at all?"

Rafe's smirk dropped. "Because you know too much."

Cory felt ill. Nothing he had said in the past few weeks had made any sense. Not only had Rafe become a kidnapper and a murderer, but he was a straight up psychopath.

"Rafe, just let me go," Cory pleaded.

Rafe gestured behind him. She couldn't see the outside world, only a small interior room that was likely a bunk when needed.

"We're already out on the water, Cory," Rafe said. "But if you stay quiet, I'll take those off." He gestured to the rope holding her together. "And think about it, Core." Cory sneered at the nickname. "I have a cross in my possession that is worth hundreds of millions of dollars."

"That isn't yours, Rafe," Cory spat.

Rafe stepped closer angrily. "Wouldn't you like a cut of that? Maybe take some to Pope?"

Cory's eye twitched.

"So what is it?" Cory snapped. "What do you need me for?"

Rafe smiled softly. "Don't you want a nice life?"

Cory's stomach churned. She knew where this was going. She began shaking her head.

"Come on, Cory," Rafe pleaded. "Just stick with me, and you can have anything you want."

"Rafe, do not do this–" Cory argued.

"Wouldn't you like to not worry about money?" Rafe asked. "To have a little bit to spare?"

"I don't need your money."

Rafe sneered. "This is your last chance, Cordelia."

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Cory snapped.

"This is your last chance!"

"I don't want your money!" Cory yelled.

Rafe grunted in frustration, moving forward quickly. He slammed Cory's head back, and she immediately began to groan in pain. Rafe then reached to the cloth around her neck and pulled it up over her mouth.

Cory wanted to cry out, but it was too late.

And then, the door was slamming in her face.

Cory grunted through the cloth, beginning to slam her side into the door.