angel - rafe cameron (outerbanks)

7 - i hit her

chapter 35
i hit her

rafe shot awake, his heart pounding as the blaring alarm from his phone jolted him out of sleep. his surroundings were unfamiliar for a moment, disorienting in the early morning haze. he blinked hard, the dim light filtering through sheer white curtains making everything feel unreal. then it hit him.

angie's room. paradise island.

he exhaled, running a hand over his face as he sat up.

she still hadn't texted him back. that's why he'd ended up here last night, drawn to the space like some pathetic ghost. he had never been inside of this room; he never had any reason to. they were never really friends. he didn't even know what he was looking for—maybe some kind of connection to her, something that made him feel closer even though she was miles away. but all he had found was her empty bed, perfectly made, untouched. he had only laid down for a second. now it was morning.

his phone screen lit up in his palm. 6:20 a.m.

shit.

ward was expecting him. they had to start loading the gold onto the truck, getting it ready to transport to the airport. switzerland. that's where it was all going. rafe didn't know much beyond that, just that it was safer overseas. cleaner. ward was making sure of that.

he swung his legs over the side of the bed, pressing his hands into his face, trying to shake the sleep off. the room was still. he sighed, pushing himself up to his feet. time to go. he dragged himself downstairs, slipping his cap onto his head. he hadn't even bothered to change his clothes—what was the point? by the time they were done, he'd be covered in dust and sweat anyway. his body felt heavy, like he was still half-asleep, but he kept moving, forcing himself through the motions.

don't fuck this up.

his fingers hovered over his phone screen as he reached the bottom of the stairs. still nothing from angie. he exhaled sharply through his nose, shoving the phone back into his pocket before stepping outside.

the morning air was thick with humidity, the sky a dull gray, like the sun hadn't fully decided to rise yet. ward was already in the car, tapping at his phone with a look of pure concentration.

rafe climbed in beside him without a word, shifting in the seat and staring straight ahead as the engine rumbled to life.

"you ready?" ward asked, glancing over.

rafe nodded, adjusting his cap. did it even matter if he was ready? they were doing this either way.

rafe had never seen so many guns in one place. hired security flanked them—one car in front, one behind—each man gripping massive AKs or some other kind of automatic rifle. it felt like he had stepped into an action movie, except this wasn't hollywood. this was real. and if they needed this much firepower, it meant ward was expecting trouble.

the convoy pulled out of the driveway, rolling through the streets of nassau just past 7a.m. the sun had fully risen now, casting long shadows as the roads filled with cars, bicycles, and pedestrians. the markets were already alive, vendors shouting prices over the sound of chatter and honking horns.

rafe exhaled, pulling his cap off and tossing it onto the dashboard. he ran a hand through his hair, his gaze drifting out the window—then his stomach tightened. kids. running straight for them. they banged their hands against the car panels, shouting and laughing, but something about it felt wrong. this couldn't be a coincidence.

"what is this?" ward asked, his voice sharp as his eyes darted between the crowd forming around them.

rafe barely glanced away from the window. "it's just some kids," he muttered, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up his spine. ward wasn't convinced. he leaned out the window, yelling and honking the horn, trying to scatter them. but the kids didn't move.