𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞〚𝚙𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 〛

Chapter 5

Thieves. 

Thieves were the most reasonable explanation to this. And Delilah went with it. 

There was no reason to worry her aunt and uncle, especially when she still had no idea why people were suddenly interested in a nobody like Scooter. 

A hand gently squeezed her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts.

"You've been stuck inside your head all morning, what's going on?" asked Rafe, sitting down on the sand beside her.

She forced herself to smile. "Nothing, nothing."

He carefully observed her as she dusted off her legs. "You need to distract yourself, get your mind off things."

"I guess so," she grimaced, getting up and stretched out her hand. "Come on, we're supposed to be cleaning the beach."

"Teens don't clean the beach, Del," he said, clasping her hand and letting her pull him to his feet. "They just gather and drink, laughing at how clueless our parents can be."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't they understand the importance of these events?"

He shrugged. "Apparently not."

Delilah turned away, hoping she had imagined the swift smell of alcohol tainting her friend's breath. 

She frowned. Why should that matter, Rafe was legally allowed to consume whatever alcohol he wished. She was being ridiculous. 

A circle was formed by all the volunteers, Delilah finding herself holding hands with Rafe and Sarah.

"Just a moment, friends, to acknowledge our blessings," said the organizer. "To the big Kahuna."

"Who?" whispered Delilah, holding back a laugh.

Rafe snorted. "Don't ask."

"Thank you for the opportunity for us to come out here and restore Masonborough to its virgin glory. Amen."

As the crowd dispersed, Rafe draped an arm around her shoulders, leaning heavily on her. "You're coming to the party tonight."

She pursed her lips. "That did not sound like a question."

"It wasn't," he chuckled, leading her towards the Cameron family's mansion. "I want to show you something I just bought."

If it was the dirtbike, she would definitely be in the mood for a ride. 

Her dreams were shattered when a severe looking Ward stepped in front of them. Rafe glared at his father, who did not budge.

"I'll see you tonight, Del," he said, a harsh edge to his voice.

The tightness of his lips, the light in his eyes, Delilah knew not to contradict him. With a small nod and a murmured greeting to Ward, she left, hoping to get far enough before the argument began. 

No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the words drifted her way.

"Get it together, Rafe. You shouldn't have bought that dirt bike with the generator money, even that Pogue I just fired is more reliable than you. Now get out of my sight, I'm sick of looking at you." The disgust in his voice was undeniable.

Her heart was crushed. Rafe was having more troubles than she thought. It hurt her to know that he hadn't reached out for her, that she couldn't help him. 

An engine revved, Rafe squeezing the brakes and stopping the dirt bike in front of her. "Get on."

"Woah, Ray. You aren't in the best condition to drive."

"I got this damn dirt bike because of you," he growled under his helmet. "And now you don't want to go for a ride?"

"Ray..."

"What, do I make you sick?" he spat.

Under the anger and hate, she couldn't seem to find the boy she had grown so attached to, and it scared her.

"I never said I wouldn't go for a ride with you, Ray," she said in a soothing voice. "I just think that maybe you should... maybe I should drive."

Telling an angry person to calm down would do no good.

"Just get on," he snapped.

Taking a deep breath, Delilah did as she was told, tugging another helmet on her head. She did not speak another word as he drove off, keeping a light hold on his waist. 

Delilah had seen him get mad before, but never at her. Never had she seen those murderous blue eyes zero in on her. 

Rafe's turns were sharp, he gripped the throttle aggressively, but Delilah had no reason to fear for her life. Despite his anger, he was a reasonably safe driver. 

She frowned, watching as the houses grew shabbier and trees surround them, the ocean disappearing in the dust. 

Something like nerves gripped her throat as Rafe turned into the driveway of a rundown winnebago, skidding to a halt. 

Delilah took off her helmet, taking one whiff of the air around her and nearly gagging. A junky's house by the smell of it.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, feeling the need to whisper.

"Stay here," he ordered, turning his back to her.

The simple sentence made her tighten her fists in anger. 

Stay here. Sit. 

She was no dog. She needed a reason, an explanation, something she could hold on to while waiting. 

As he walked away, she could think of nothing else to do but obey.

 Keeping a wary eye on the junkies laying in the front yard, Delilah leaned against the bike, faking a nonchalant look. But as the minutes stretched on, she couldn't take the inactivity. 

Stuffing her hands in the small pockets of her shorts, she took small steps towards the closest man, who was lazily slouched on a picnic table.

"He's taking an awful long time today," she said, nodding towards the direction Rafe had taken.

The man grunted. "Nah, the boy gets special treatment from Barry."

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from frowning. "Not fair for the rest of you."

He sneered. "If the boy keeps it up with his money issues, he won't be gettin' it for long."

Delilah backed away, a sudden fear stabbing her chest. What had Rafe gotten himself into? 

The boy in question threw open the door, adjusting the strap of a newly acquired bag. 

He frowned in her direction. "You good?"

Delilah forced herself to smile. "Let's get out of here."

A/N So, what do you guys think of this chapter's focus on Rafe? I feel like the guy has a more complex personality but I'll do my best to write it down. 

Thank you for reading! -Aella