angel - rafe cameron (outerbanks)

25 - burning

chapter 25
burning 

the car rolled to a stop a few houses down from kelce's place, the flashing red and blue lights of cop cars cutting through the night. the sirens had been silenced, but the chaos was palpable—the muffled voices of officers barking orders, radios crackling with static. jj killed the engine, the tension suffocating as everyone leaned forward, trying to make sense of the scene.

"this isn't good," pope muttered, his voice low as he peered out the window. "what the hell are we walking into?"

kiara reached for the door handle, ready to jump out, but angie's hand shot out, grabbing her arm firmly. "wait," angie hissed, her voice sharp but hushed. kiara froze, her wide-eyed gaze snapping to angie's face. angie's eyes weren't on her, though—they were fixed on rafe, who had just stepped out of his car across the street.

rafe's movements were tense and hurried as he slammed his car door shut, his face shadowed but unmistakably tight with panic. he shoved his hands into his pockets, his head snapping toward the house and then toward the street, like he was looking for someone—or making sure he wasn't being watched.

"what's he doing here?" kiara whispered, her voice barely audible.

"that's what i'm thinking," angie replied, her jaw clenched, her eyes following rafe as he moved toward the house. her pulse was racing again, the knot in her stomach tightening with every step he took. this wasn't a coincidence—rafe showing up here, with the cops swarming kelce's place, couldn't be random.

"we can't just sit here," jj said, his tone impatient, his hand twitching toward the door. "john b's in there, and if the cops—"

"jj, shut up," angie snapped, cutting him off. "think for once. you run in there now, and you'll make everything worse."

"so what's your plan, genius?" jj shot back, his frustration boiling over. "just let rafe waltz around and screw us all over?"

angie didn't respond right away. her eyes stayed locked on rafe as he hesitated at the edge of the lawn, his gaze flicking to the house before stepping forward again. something about his movements felt off, like he wasn't sure he wanted to go near.

"i don't know, but hopefully topper sees sense for once." angie said, allowing kiara to crack the window open in order to hear the commotion better. 

"so we're relying on a miracle?" pope asked.

"pretty much," angie muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned closer to the open window, her eyes narrowing on the scene in front of them.

angie couldn't tear her eyes away from him. she hated it—hated how he could make her feel anything other than disgust, how her heart betrayed her even now. she knew what he'd done, what he was capable of. every fibre of her being screamed that she should despise him, should feel nothing but anger and revulsion. and yet, as he stood there bathed in the eerie glow of the flashing blue lights, he looked... ethereal?

the light danced off his skin, casting sharp shadows across his jawline, his features more striking than they had any right to be. his hair flopped over his forehead, messy and unbothered, like he hadn't just walked out of chaos and into another storm. there was a tension in his frame, his shoulders rigid, but his face was harder to read. maybe it was just the weight of something he hadn't yet admitted aloud.

her breath hitched when he ran a hand through his hair, the movement so effortless it made her chest tighten. she hated that too. hated the way he moved like the world revolved around him, like he belonged in the center of every room, even when it was on fire.