Ocean and Alcohol ✘JJ Maybank✘

The Color Purple

You pounded your fist against the glass door, ignoring how the vibrations sent ripples of pain through your hand.

"Rafe Cameron!" You called, pounding again. A small splatter of blood was left behind when you pulled your hand back. Sarah came shuffling down the stairs, her eyes half closed from sleep.

"Elm?" She asked, her voice distorted through the window pane. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's your brother?" You asked, your voice still strained.

"He's out," she said, rubbing her eyes. When she opened them again, it was like she finally saw you; the swelling eye, the broken nose, the bleeding lip, the purple necklace of bruises. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but you stopped her before she could.

"I need to talk to your dad then." Your body shook from adrenaline and anger, hands shaking to contain it. "I have something I'm sure he'd love to know about your brother."

She moved to unlock the door, but when you glanced over, you saw Rafe's car pull into the driveway. Without a second thought, you turned away from the glass door and ran toward the car. Rafe saw you coming, a wild storm in the dead of night.

"What happened to you?" He asked, lifting his hand to touch your face as you neared. You slammed into him like a train, pressing him against the hood of his car with your arm across his throat.

"Don't fucking ask me what happened," you seethed, a tear falling from your eye and splashing against his neck. "You knew damn well what would happen."

"I didn't do anything to you." He shoved you off of him, glaring at you. You seethed, your breathing ragged as it crawled out of your throat like a beast. His face seemed to soften, his glare falling. "Did JJ do this to you?"

The scoff you gave him was bitter, laced with poison.

"Stop fucking around, Rafe. You know what you did." Your hands tensed and relaxed at your sides, every inch of your self-control going to not tearing his throat out then and there.

"I swear to you, I don't know what happened."

You searched his eyes for a lie, but he wasn't easy for you to read. You could almost see honesty in his eyes, truth. But he must be lying. There wasn't anyone else who could hate you so much.

"Then tell me," you said slowly. "Where my dad got pictures of me and....and the others."

You wiped away tears with the back of your good hand as they fell from your eyes.

"Your dad did this to you?"

"No!" You put your hands up to your face. "Yes, but that's not what I need to know! Who was taking pictures of me? Who gave them to my dad?"

Rafe let out a sigh, putting his hands up to his nose. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly and then out again.

"I took the pictures," he said, placing his hands on his hips. He wouldn't look at you. "I've been taking them since you...since you kissed me at that party."

You weren't sure why it felt like a betrayal. Your lips quivered, nose scrunching up as water flooded your vision.

"Why?"

"Because-" He breathed in deeply so he wouldn't shout. "Because I hated you for kissing me and then walking away like it meant nothing."

"It did mean nothing."

"I hated you for that," he said, anger rising in his voice again. "I still hate you for that."

"So you took those pictures and showed them to my dad because you hate me." You wanted to scratch his eyes out, wanted to tear him limb from limb, wanted him to feel the pain you felt now. But Rafe shook his head.