royalty! || jj maybank

nine!

( things she could never have  )

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RAFE WAS ANGRY THAT NIGHT.

Lucy had known it in the car on the way home, when he'd sat with a clenched jaw and tense arms for the whole ride. There was a muscle in his jaw which only slipped into view when he was really, truly angry. She had known it when they'd gotten out of the car and she hadn't even had the chance to say goodnight to Sarah before he grabbed her by the arm, nails digging into her wrist. She had known it as he pulled her up the stairs, known it as he slammed the door behind them, known it as she could feel his hands on her skin in all the ways they shouldn't have been, and known it as hot breath fanned across her face, heavy and untamed.

And she knew it now, as she woke up the next morning, clutching the sheets of Rafe's bed to her chest, the bed empty and cold around her.

Rafe was gone.

She was kept company only by the silence in the room. Not even the hum of the air conditioning. It was safe to say that the backup generator money Ward had given his son was not used on the backup generators.

Lucy was fairly certain that the money was the reason for Rafe's current absence. It was likely being spent as she sat there. Her boyfriend was Barry's best customer, even if Lucy thought Barry was a ridiculous name for a drug dealer.

There was a bruise blooming on her collarbone, raw and tender as she moved it. Deep colours danced across her pale skin where Rafe had pushed her against the wall with the butt of his hand. She had bit her lip to keep from crying out, had reopened the barely-healed scab that knitted the skin together.

Rafe liked the taste of blood when he kissed her.

His temper was mercurial. Sometimes it was told in hues of blue and purple, painted on her skin. Sometimes it was warm, sometimes it burned, sometimes it was shouting and screaming and hot, angry tears. Sometimes it was cold. Lonely, sharp, biting, and so, so cold. 

Lucy felt sick to her stomach, an emotional, roiling mess. The thin sheet was the only thing keeping her body from the sticky air in the room, and she could not bring herself to move it away from her chest. Could not look at herself, did not want to look at herself, did not want to play her part and walk downstairs into the Cameron family kitchen and smile with Ward, and pretend to ignore the tinge of pity in his eyes every time he looked at her.

All she really wanted to do was walk to Sarah's room, and let her best friend engulf her in some kind of bone-crushing hug, and probably cry — scratch that. Definitely cry.

The only nearby piece of clothing was one of Rafe's t-shirts, and Lucy could've laughed at the pure irony of it all. Removing one arm from where it lay across her chest, she grabbed the white fabric off the floor, pulling it over her neck and watching as it settled around her shoulders.

It smelled like him, she thought.

Stretching upwards, Lucy turned and pushed herself off the bed, feet touching the cold floor. She rubbed at her forehead, and though she hadn't drunk enough the night before to be hungover, there was a throbbing in her temple that was blocking sane thought.

Standing, Rafe's shirt brushed against the top of her thighs, and Lucy padded over to the draw in his room where she had accumulated a few things over time. She may as well have lived with the Camerons at this point. 

Lucy walked out of Rafe's room and along the hallway, making her way to Sarah's room on muscle memory alone. The sunlight streaming into the house hurt her eyes. That headache was getting worse.

Reaching up a hand, she knocked tentatively on Sarah's door, and realised she didn't actually know what time it was. It was just as likely to be mid-morning as it was mid-afternoon.

          "Wheezie, go away." 

Lucy laughed to herself as the familiar groan of her best friend echoed out of the room, swiftly followed by a loud thump, a sound which Lucy assumed was a pillow hitting the door. Sarah had scarily good aim sometimes.

          "Not Wheezie." 

          "Luce?" The door shifted, only slightly ajar, and Sarah poked her head around, taking in Lucy's appearance. It was the same look she did every morning, the same once-over. Both of them knew what she was looking for.

Sarah's eyes lingered for a second on the darkening patch of skin over her collarbone, the one place where Lucy's body had betrayed her. Lucy counted herself lucky that Sarah couldn't see anything else.

          "Guilty as charged."

The door forgotten, Sarah moved out into the hallway, silently pulling Lucy into her arms. 

Lucy didn't know how long they stood there, but she appreciated it more than words could express. She knew Sarah appreciated it too.

Pulling away, Lucy held her best friend at arms length, keeping her hands firmly on her shoulders and steadfastly ignoring the pity in her eyes. Lucy knew that if she hadn't pulled away first, she might never have let go. 

          "Let's go get breakfast," Lucy said, ignoring the tremor in her voice, "Okay?" Sarah nodded. It was as though they had made some silent promise not to talk about what had happened the night before. 

Lucy grabbed Sarah's hand with her own, and the two girls made their way downstairs, the sounds of life returning to the house as they came closer to the kitchen. The deep sound of Ward's laughter reverberated through Tannyhill, Rose and Wheezie talking over each other as cutlery hit the sides of plates and bowls. 

          "Morning, girls." Lucy looked over to Ward, smiling slightly at him.

          "Hey, dad," Sarah replied.

          "I thought Wheezie woke you up an hour ago." Rose looked at the younger girl, who simply shrugged.

           "She doesn't listen to you, mom, why would she listen to me?" Sarah stuck her tongue out at her little sister, quick enough that neither of the adults noticed. "Hey!"

           "Hey what, Sneezie?" Sarah's voice was teasing, and Wheezie was very clearly annoyed.

           "Not my name." 

Ward chuckled then, and Lucy smiled as she looked around the kitchen. 

           "OJ, Luce?" Sarah waved the carton in front of her face, and Lucy nodded.

           "Yeah, thanks."

She had always liked Tannyhill when Rafe wasn't there. Had always thought of the Camerons as being more her family than her own, even if Rose was newer to the island than Lucy was.

As Sarah passed her the cool glass, Lucy made eye contact with Ward. She knew he had seen the bruise. Knew it as soon as his eyes darted downwards and back up to hers. There were very few things that Ward Cameron didn't know about in the Outer Banks, especially where his son was concerned. 

However, blood was always thicker than water. Lucy would have been stupid not to know that here in Kildare, where a good name was all you really needed to succeed. 

The noises of the Cameron family echoed through the room, and Lucy drifted into thought. A real, proper family. Sometimes, she wondered what that was like. 

Tonight, she would do it all again. She would return to Rafe's room, she would go through the motions, and she would keep dreaming of things that she could never have.

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