Me and the Devil

27.

The moonlight spills into the room, softened by the curtains, casting a dim glow over Rafe’s sleeping form beside me. His arm rests across my waist like a chain, holding me in place even as my thoughts spiral. His breath, slow and steady against the nape of my neck, contrasts with the rapid thrum of my heartbeat.

On the nightstand, my phone lies silent, its screen dark but heavy with missed calls, unanswered texts, and questions I don’t want to face. Last night wasn’t just crossing a line it was burning the bridge behind me.

A sharp knock at my bedroom door shatters the stillness. My entire body tenses as JJ’s voice rings out, casual but impatient. “y/n!” Let’s go! We’re burning nighttime hours!”

I freeze, breath catching in my throat. Rafe stirs beside me, his brow furrowing as his eyes flutter open. For a fleeting moment, he looks soft, almost innocent until reality floods back in.

“Shit,” I whisper, carefully sliding out from under his arm.

“What’s going on?” His voice is rough with sleep, his gaze sharpening as he sits up.

“The Pogues,” I hiss, tossing him his shirt. “They’re here.”

Rafe doesn’t move with the urgency I need. Instead, he leans back, smirking as he pulls the shirt over his head. “Relax. They don’t know I’m here.”

“Hide. Now.” My tone leaves no room for argument as I shove him toward the closet.

He sighs dramatically but complies, the closet door clicking shut just as JJ knocks again. “Y/N!” Sarah calls this time. “Are you seriously asleep? We’ve got work to do!”

I pull on a hoodie, forcing my hands to steady, and open the door. JJ stands front and center, arms crossed, with Pope and Sarah flanking him. Their expressions range from suspicion to irritation.

“You look… refreshed,” JJ drawls, his tone laced with teasing curiosity. “Care to share what had you so busy tonight?”

I shrug, keeping my tone light. “Fell asleep. Long day.”

Pope frowns, his gaze narrowing. “You missed a lot. Kiara and Sarah actually made up. We thought you’d want to be there for that.”

“Yeah, real Kodak moment,” JJ adds, though there’s an edge to his usual humor. “Guess you had better things to do?”

The knot in my stomach tightens, but I force a smile. “I’m here now, aren’t I? Give me five minutes.” I shut the door before they can respond, leaning against it as I catch my breath.

Rafe steps out of the closet, his smirk tempered with guilt. “I’m sorry for putting you in this spot. I should go.”

“Don’t.” My voice is sharp, almost pleading. “I asked you to stay, and I meant it.”

His eyes soften, but he doesn’t argue. I cross the room to pull out my “treasure-hunting outfit”—black leggings, a sports bra, a hoodie, and my Converse. Changing in front of him is a deliberate act, a silent way of saying I’m not hiding anything from him not even this.

“I have to go,” I say, heading for the door. “For us.”

Rafe studies me, his expression unreadable. “Be careful,” he says finally, as I slip out the door and down the hall.

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The ride to the Crain house is tense, the silence punctuated only by JJ’s barbed jokes and Kiara’s uneasy glances. The weight of their trust presses on me, suffocating. The mansion looms ahead, its decaying facade draped in shadows, the broken windows glinting like hollow eyes in the moonlight. The sight sends a shiver through me, but there’s a thrill in it too, an undercurrent of chaos I can’t help but crave.