The Deep End » Outer Banks [JJ Maybank] BOOK ONE

XXIII: Ripple

ripple
noun. a small wave or series of waves on the surface of water.

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"Here goes nothing," Lee whispered to herself, bright and early the next morning, as she pulled up in front of the Aldridges' place once more. She knew very well that Rafe had told her he wasn't going to help her again, but Lee was desperate. She needed to get the rest of the money JJ had stolen returned, and Rafe seemed her only way to do that.

"Lee?" Rafe asked incredulously, his blue eyes narrowing at the sight of her.

She didn't have a chance to answer before he had pulled her into the house and pushed her up against a wall, his forearm on her neck.

"Long time no see," Lee said, her voice hoarse as he pressed on her windpipe. "Love what you've done with the place" she added sarcastically, noting a broken vase on the floor of the foyer.

Rafe ignored her question and said, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I need to ask you a favor."

"No, Lee," Rafe replied quickly, dropping his arm and walking to the kitchen. "I'm not doing you any more favors, okay? If Barry hears about this he'll kill me, too. I've risked enough for you already."

Lee followed after him. "So he's gonna kill us?" she asked, overlooking the fact that he definitely wanted her to leave.

"If he doesn't get his money back, yeah, maybe," Rafe said, opening a Ziploc of powdery cocaine to make a line on the counter in front of him.

Lee scoffed, crossing her arms. "You would just let him do that to your sister?"

"Look, I tried to warn her, okay?" Rafe said defensively. "I tried to warn you, too. It's not my problem anymore. I've got other things to worry about. Like why the fuck is a Pogue in my house?" He snorted the line that he had drawn on the countertop and Lee cringed.

"It's not your house," Lee muttered sardonically. "What problems could you possibly have that matter more than your sister's safety?"

Rafe ran a hand through his slicked-back blonde hair in frustration. "The fact that she's going to the Bahamas with my dad instead of me."

"Well, that..." Lee trailed off, surprised at what Rafe had said. She knew that even as a kid Rafe had been desperate for his father's approval, and going to the Bahamas was a huge sign of that for him. "That doesn't matter as much as keeping her safe," Lee finished, ignoring the tug in her gut.

"It matters to me! I have to prove to him that I'm a good son, okay?" Rafe said, turning to face Lee. His cheeks were flushed and he wiped away a drip of blood underneath his nose from snorting the cocaine. "I have to!"

"Rafe," Lee pleaded, grabbing his arm, "we need your help, okay? Prove to your dad that you're a good son by keeping people safe!"

Rafe shoved her away. "I can't help you, Lee! Don't you get that? You guys gotta find a way to fix this yourselves now. You might start with learning how to actually defend yourself in a fight."

Lee pulled the gun from the back of her waistband and set it on the counter firmly. "Will this work?"

Rafe's eyes widened at the sight of the gun. He stared at it quietly for a moment and Lee realized that she had made a mistake by pulling it out. She lunged for the gun but was too late as Rafe grabbed it and ran for the front door. Lee cursed, darting after him.

"Rafe!" she shouted. "What the fuck are you doing?"

He ignored her, hopping into his pickup truck and starting its engine. Lee banged on the window, telling Rafe to unlock the door and give her the gun back, but he refused. Instead, he stepped on the gas and peeled out of the driveway, leaving Lee behind as she ripped at her hair in frustration. Angry with herself for thinking she could trust Rafe—for giving him the chance to betray her again—she hopped onto her dirtbike and chased after him.