─☼☼☼─

─RAFE─

𝙍𝘼𝙁𝙀 𝙃𝘼𝘿 𝙉𝙊 idea what the fuck he was doing. How he had gotten himself into such a mess.

His hands gripped onto the handles of his bike, the feeling of his father slumped behind him.

Rafe had almost had his own father killed...almost. If he had gotten there a few minutes later, Ward Cameron would have been dead, and Rafe would have been the heir to it all─for real this time.

But he had had a change of heart, had tried his best to stop the hitman he and Barry had hired. It was Charlotte who had changed his mind. Without even knowing what he was planning, she had managed to have him rethinking the entire plan. Charlotte would never trust him again if she found out that he had his own father killed. And he could never live with himself if his selfishness caused him to lose her forever.

So, while Ward was injured, he was alive...at least for now.

But Rafe needed to get him out of here. Ward had been seen by some locals, and soon enough word would spread that the Cameron patriarch had never really been dead at all. His plot would be exposed, and with him he would pull down Rafe and the rest of the family.

Rafe couldn't afford for that to happen. He couldn't have his happily ever after with Charlotte if he was dragged down with his father. So, upon a revelation from Ward, Rafe had been alerted to the fact that the Cameron private jet was taking off from the airstrip before evening. It was headed toward South America with Sarah and the Pogues on board. Disgust settled over Rafe at the thought of the Pogues using his family's jet for their reckless and greedy endeavours. But within the disgust was relief...this was the perfect way to protect Ward and the entire Cameron family.

Dusk had begun to settled as the Outer Banks flew by, Rafe pushing his bike to the limit in an effort to reach the airstrip in time. If they got there after the jet had taken off, it was all over.

The blood from Ward's wounds coated Rafe's hands, his mind flashing back to when it had been Charlotte's blood covering every inch of his hands.

God, he was so fucking stupid.

How many times did he have to put her in danger, did he have to jeopardize their entire future before he decided enough was enough? He was never going to be good enough for her, not in a million lifetimes.

But yet, he could never let her go. Even if it was for her own good. Rafe Cameron was irrevocably in love with Charlotte Carrera, and losing her would be the end of him.

The airstrip came into view, Rafe's heart hammering into his chest. The last time he had been here he had killed someone.

He liked to think he wasn't the same person he was all those months ago...but his actions as of late had him second guessing that.

Ward let out a pained grunt as Rafe took a sharp turn, the Cameron jet coming into view. Four figures surrounded the plane, each of them on alert as his bike came to a fast stop in front of them.

Tearing his helmet from his head, Rafe's eyes darted across the four people, hoping to see Charlotte. He needed her right now. Needed to hear her voice, feel her touch, to bring him back to reality.

But she wasn't there.

Instead, he was met with the shocked, and rather appalled expressions of Pope, Sarah, John B, and a girl he vaguely recognized but could not name.

A groan flew from Ward as he tried to step off the bike. Instead, he tumbled toward the ground before Rafe could catch him, his wound bleeding more profusely now. "It's okay, Dad." Rafe assured, crouching down to wrap his arms around his father, "I've got you. It's okay."

He turned to his sister, angered that he even had to ask at all. "Come on, help!" He shouted, unable to properly support Ward on his own. "Help!"

Sarah stared back at him, her chest pulling in deep breaths as her eyes were full of a mixture of disbelief, anger, and buried deep within, worry. Rafe tore his eyes from his younger sister, refocusing on Ward as he removed his helmet, eyes settling on the pale face of his father. "Don't just stand there!" he snapped at Sarah, "Come on, please!"

Finally seeming to break from her trance, Sarah's face rippled in distress as she rushed toward them, wrapping her arms around the other side of their father, doing her best to support his weight. "What happened?" She demanded, looking to her brother through panicked eyes.

Rafe ignored her question, bearing the brunt of Ward's weight. "Let's go on the plane." He declared, knowing he needed to get his father on the plane before any of the Pogues found a reason to stop him.

He could feel the burning stares from the Pogues. He did his best to ignore them. He wasn't going to fight with them...not now.

"Some locals spotted him," Rafe explained to Sarah as they ushered their father toward the steps, "They know he's alive, alright? He can't stay here. We gotta get him off the island right now."

Another pain grunt came from Ward as Rafe began to pull him up the steps, "Come on. I've got you."

Sarah stood behind, ready to catch their father should he lose his balance. Her eyes were aflame with so many emotions, Rafe couldn't pick just one to focus on.

"There you go," Rafe commended his father as he guided him into one of the seats. "You're good."

Sarah came flying up the steps behind him, finally looking to her brother for some real answers. "You need to tell me what happened."

Rafe, obviously, was not going to tell her the entire truth, but he would tell part of it. "He was attacked," He answered, glancing down at Ward for a moment.

"By who?" Sarah questioned, shaking her head in disbelief. "No one knows he's here!"

"I don't─I don't know." Rafe insisted, praying that no one could see through his lies.

Ward sucked in a deep breath, stretching out his injured leg in front of him, "Sarah, sweetie." He beckoned her closer, and after a moment of hesitation, Sarah crouched down in front of him.

"I'll take you and your friends wherever you need to go," Ward promised, reaching out to brush the hair from his daughter's face. Sarah shied away from his touch, her eyes locked on him.

She glanced back out toward where the Pogues were, "You promise?"

Nodding, Ward leaned his head back against the seat, exhaustion overtaking him. "I promise, Sarah."

Not having time to question his truth, Sarah gave a small nod, rising to her feet before making for the exit.

"Sarah, wait!" Rafe called, moving down the aisle to reach her before she stepped outside. His younger sister turned to face him, a certain level of mistrust hidden within her expression. Now that Ward was on the plane, there was only one thing on Rafe's mind. "Where is she?"

Sarah hesitated for a moment, as if she didn't want to tell Rafe the truth.

"Where's Charlotte?" He questioned again, this time more urgently.

Letting out a deep exhale, Sarah shook her head. "She's with JJ," she answered, causing anger to course through Rafe's veins. "Mike and Anna─they sent Kie away. JJ and Charlotte went to go get her."

Rafe ran a hand over his buzzed head, "Fuck!" He shouted, startling Sarah. He needed Charlotte to be with him right now. He was done playing this game in which they somehow ended up separated. "Is she coming to South America with you guys?"

The answer to that question was about to decide everything.

Pursing her lips for a moment, Sarah nodded. "Her and JJ are supposed to be meeting us here once they have Kie."

It was decided then.

With a small nod, Rafe turned back toward their father, sliding into the seat opposite of him.

"W-what are you doing?" Sarah demanded, seeming to have come to terms with award joining, but not Rafe.

Rafe leaned further into the seat, as if to prove that he wasn't going anywhere. "If Lottie is going then so am I."

Muttering something under her breath, Sarah disappeared out of the plane, not in the mood to argue with her brother. Instead, she was likely on her way to try and convince the rest of the Pogues to get on the damn plane with Ward and Rafe.

Rafe knew how much they hated him, and truthfully, he couldn't really blame them for that. But he didn't care if they got on this plane or not. All he cared about was his Lottie.

A heated discussion broke from outside, Rafe couldn't hear exactly what they were saying but there was a lot of back and forth.

"Rafe," Ward spoke, some strength back in his voice. "Son, look at me."

Rafe turned his head, focusing eyes on his father. He had tried to avoid making eye contact, afraid that his father would see right through him.

"Thank you," Ward said softly. 

Dropping his eyes, Rafe shook his head. "You don't need to thank me."

Ward leaned forward, bracing his hand on the back of Rafe's neck. "I do." He assured. "You're a good boy. A good boy."

If only you knew what I had done. 

"I'm not." Rafe argued, still unable to look up at his father. 

The grip Ward had on Rafe tightened slightly, willing Rafe to look up. "You are," Ward maintained, "Listen, I know what you did."

"Dad─" 

Rafe was cut off by a firm shake of Ward's head. "It's not about what happens in the middle, son. It's about where you end up. You came back for me, that's all that matters." Ward assured, his words breaking down the worries that had built up in Rafe's chest. "I love you son, and I am alive because of you."

A flood of emotions overtook Rafe. His father forgave him...after everything he had done, Ward saw the good in him. This is exactly what he had needed all along. He had been seeking his father's validation from the very time he knew what validation was. And he had finally gotten it. 

"We gotta go!" A voice sounded from outside, causing the father and son to break apart. Rafe turned his head, eyes landing on John B as he rushed into the plane, the other two Pogues and Sarah behind him.

Standing up, Rafe faced them, "Where's Charlotte?" He demanded, panic resurfacing. There was no way he was about to be stuck on this plane if Charlotte wasn't here with him. 

Pope glared at him, the other girl muttering something to him as John B's eyes flitted between Ward and Rafe. Sarah, knowing she was the only one who was going to answer him, let out a sigh. "They're gonna have to meet us there. We don't have time."

"What?" Rafe's face tightened as he began to make his way through the plan toward the door. "I'm not leaving here without Lottie!"

Sarah reached out and hit the button to close the door before Rafe could reach it. "You don't have a choice, Rafe. We need to go."

Anger flashed across Rafe as he shoved his sister back, "Open the damn door, Sarah!"

"Hey!" John B snapped, stepping in between the two of them, "Sit the hell down, Rafe." He ordered, seething as he blocked Rafe's path to Sarah. 

Rafe touched a hand to his eyebrow, "What the fuck is wrong with you guys? Why are you leaving her behind?"

John B shoved Rafe toward the window, jabbing a finger toward the tarmac, "That's why," He answered, drawing Rafe's attention to the oncoming lights of police cars. "We stay here and this plane never leaves. Which is not happening. JJ and Charley will be fine."

Defeat had begun to settled in Rafe's chest. If he stopped this plane, if he left, his father would be caught. If this plane didn't take off, they were all screwed in one way or another. But leaving Charlotte weighed on his heart even heavier than the prospect of his father being caught─especially considering she was with the Maybank kid...the same one who had had his filthy lips all over Rafe's girl. 

"It's done." John B said darkly, stepping back from the window and away from Rafe. 

Rafe felt like he was being buried alive─being stuck in this plane with the Pogues was top ten on the list of horrible things that could happen to him. "Damnit!" He cursed, slamming his fist into one of the seats. 

A gasp fell from Sarah's lips as she took a small step back, a look of genuine fear on her features.

Be better. 

Rafe regained his composure, casting a small glance toward his sister, "Sorry." He muttered, turning  back toward the aisle. It felt like all eyes were on him as he made his way to the back of the plane. He needed to put as much distance between himself and the Pogues as he could. 

He hadn't made it very far when a hand was placed on his shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh. Pulling his eyes up, Rafe met the steady glare of Pope Heyward. "We're not done." Pope warned, his anger about the cross far from over. 

Seeing no need to instigate an argument here and now, Rafe gave a small dip of his head before brushing past Pope. 

Falling into one of the seats at the very back, Rafe buried his head in his hands. 

What had he gotten himself in to?

─☼☼☼─