061.  dilemma of the day

( the sixtieth first chapter )

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Sarah sobbed uncontrollably in the passenger seat of Rafe's truck, her hands trembling as she held her face. "Why, Rafe? Why did you do that?" she cried, her voice breaking. She turned her head, her tear-filled eyes searching his face for an answer that could make sense of the chaos they had just left behind.

Rafe's grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled, his jaw clenched as he blinked rapidly, trying to keep his own panic at bay. His chest rose and fell unevenly, and his breaths came in short bursts. "She was going to kill Dad, Sarah!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his hysteria. "I didn't have a choice—I had to do something!"

Sarah's sobs grew louder, and she shook her head vehemently, the tears streaming down her face. "You didn't have to shoot her, Rafe! Oh my God, you shot her!" Her hands tugged at her hair as if trying to pull herself out of the nightmare they were now trapped in.

Rafe slammed his hand against the steering wheel, the sound reverberating through the cab of the truck. "She had a gun to Dad's head, Sarah!" he yelled, his voice filled with both desperation and fury. "What the hell was I supposed to do? Just stand there and let her pull the trigger?"

He glanced at her, his vision blurred with unshed tears. "I didn't want to... I just—" His voice broke off, and he swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in his throat down. "I couldn't lose him. Not like that."

Sarah turned her face toward the window, her hand gripping the door handle. She felt suffocated, trapped in the cab with her brother, who had just crossed a line she couldn't ignore. "I can't do this," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I need to get out of here."

Rafe's eyes darted to her as she began to pull at the handle, trying to open the door of the moving vehicle. His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately reached out, grabbing her arm tightly with his free hand. "Sarah, stop!" he barked, his voice frantic.

"Let me go!" she screamed, trying to yank her arm free, but Rafe's grip only tightened.

"I can't let you do that!" he shouted, his voice raw. "You don't get it, Sarah! You don't understand what's happening right now. I did what I had to do, and now you're freaking out like I'm the bad guy here!"

Tears streamed down his face as he pulled her arm back toward him, his knuckles brushing against her wrist. "I'm trying to keep us together! I'm trying to protect this family!" His voice cracked, and he glanced back at the road, swerving slightly before regaining control of the wheel.

Sarah looked at him, horrified by his wild eyes and the trembling in his voice. "You're insane," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You're completely losing it."

"I'm not insane!" Rafe shot back, his voice cracking. "You don't know what it's like to feel like everything's falling apart! I'm the one who's trying to hold it together! I did this for Dad, for you! For us!"

Her breath hitched as she stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. The truck sped through the empty streets, the world outside blurring as the tension inside the vehicle thickened.

Rafe's grip on her arm loosened slightly, but he didn't let go. "Sarah," he said more softly, his voice almost pleading now. "I had to save him. He's our dad." His voice broke again, and he looked at her, his eyes glassy. "I didn't know what else to do."

Sarah looked away, tears blinding her as she clutched her chest, trying to steady her breathing. "You've gone too far, Rafe," she whispered. "You've gone so far, I don't even recognize you anymore."

Her words cut through him like a knife, but he said nothing. His hand slowly slipped from her arm, returning to the steering wheel, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. The rest of the drive to Tannyhill was silent, the air heavy with unspoken words and unbearable tension.

Just as Rafe pulled up to Tannyhill, Sarah immediately sprung out of the car. Marching away from her brother, Sarah stormed into the house, her sobs echoing in the entryway. Rose, who was descending the stairs with her usual air of authority, paused when she saw Sarah.

"Sarah, what the hell? Why are you crying? And why aren't you on the plane with your father?" Rose's sharp tone was laced with confusion.

Sarah shot her an icy glare, wiping at her tears hastily. "Ask Rafe," she snapped before turning on her heel and storming up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

Rose turned her attention to Rafe, who had just entered behind Sarah, his face pale, his jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here? Ward made it clear you're not welcome in this house anymore."

Rafe's lips curved into a strained smirk, though his eyes betrayed the storm brewing inside him. "Your husband let me back in," he said simply, brushing past her. Rose opened her mouth to argue, but Rafe was already halfway up the stairs, ignoring her protests.

Instead of heading to Sarah's room, Rafe went to the guest room where John B had been staying. He yanked open the closet and began stuffing John B's clothes and belongings into a duffel bag, his movements erratic and rushed. As he zipped the bag shut, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

It was a message from Wheezie: "When are you coming back? Olivine's here, and she's asking about you."

The reminder hit him like a punch to the gut. His girlfriend was back at his house, waiting for him with his little sister, while he had just shot someone. His chest tightened, and his breathing grew uneven. The voices in his head grew louder, shouting over each other—his father's praise, Sarah's sobs, Peterkin's groans of pain, and his own internal spiral of guilt and justification.

Throwing the duffel bag over his shoulder, he made his way back down the hall but stopped short outside his bedroom. His hands trembled as he reached for the door handle and stepped inside.

He went straight to the nightstand, pulling out a small doggie bag of white powder he kept hidden there. "I'm sorry, Olivine," he whispered under his breath, his voice shaking.

He poured a line onto the glass surface of the nightstand, taking a deep, shuddering breath before lowering his head and sniffing it up. The burn shot through him immediately, but the numbing calm followed just as quickly. His mind quieted, the voices dulled, and his heart rate slowed.

Closing his eyes, Rafe let out a long, shaky exhale. "Just a little longer," he muttered to himself. "Just need to get through this."

Rafe lingered for a moment, leaning over the nightstand with his hands braced against it. He stared down at the empty glass, his reflection fractured and distorted. The guilt still clawed at him, but the drugs dulled the sharpest edges of it, leaving behind a haze that he could almost convince himself was calm.

Shoving the doggie bag back into the drawer, he grabbed his keys and the duffel bag before heading out. As he walked down the stairs, Rose reappeared in the foyer, her arms crossed, her expression cold and suspicious.

"Where are you going now, Rafe? You can't just come and go like this—"

"Not your business," he snapped, his tone sharper than he intended. He softened slightly when he saw Rose's startled look. "I've got stuff to handle. Tell Dad I'm taking care of it."

Before she could press further, Rafe was out the door, throwing the duffel bag into the backseat of his truck. As he started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, his mind began to race again.

Wheezie's text haunted him: "Olivine's here, and she's asking about you."

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles whitening. How the hell was he supposed to face her now? She was back at his house, probably sipping a slushie with Wheezie, completely unaware of what he'd just done. His stomach churned at the thought.

The drive back to his house felt like an eternity. He ran through scenarios in his head, trying to figure out what he would say to Olivine. Would she see the guilt written all over his face? Would she even ask? Could he lie to her again?

When he finally pulled into his driveway, he sat in the truck for a moment, staring at the house. From the window, he could see Wheezie's shadow moving in the living room, but there was no sign of Olivine.

"Pull it together, Rafe," he muttered to himself. He slapped his cheeks lightly, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the truck.

The moment he walked inside, Wheezie called out from the couch. "Rafe! Finally! Where've you been? Olivine's been waiting for you—"

"I know," he cut her off, his voice clipped. "Where is she?"

Wheezie pointed toward the kitchen. "She said she'd get started on dinner or something. You better not piss her off. She's been asking a lot of questions."

Rafe's heart sank. He nodded and made his way toward the kitchen, steeling himself for the confrontation he knew was coming.

When he stepped through the doorway, he found Olivine at the counter, stirring a pot of something on the stove. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard him enter, her expression softening into a smile.

"Finally," she said, setting the spoon down and turning to face him. "You had me worried. Wheezie said you seemed upset earlier."

Rafe's chest tightened at her concern. He forced a smirk. "Yeah, just... family stuff. You know how it is."

She tilted her head, studying him. "Rafe, what's going on?"

He hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching. "Nothing you need to worry about," he said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment longer than usual. "I'm just glad you're here."

Olivine didn't push further, though he could see the doubt in her eyes. She rested her hands on his chest, leaning into his embrace.

"Me too," she said softly. "But, Rafe... if something's wrong, you can tell me. You know that, right?"

"I know," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent. For now, he could pretend everything was fine. For now, he could hold onto her and hope she didn't see the cracks forming beneath the surface.

Rafe pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on Olivine's waist. He glanced over her shoulder at the stove, his mind racing.

"Hey," he started, his voice calm but strained. "I, uh, need to go handle something real quick for my dad. Just an errand—it won't take long."

Olivine frowned, her hands slipping from his chest. "You just got back, Rafe. Can't it wait? Dinner's almost ready, and Wheezie's already picking a movie for us to watch."

He shook his head, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's important, babe. Dad's relying on me for this. I promise I'll be back soon, okay?"

Her brows knitted together in concern, but she nodded slowly. "Alright... but don't take too long. Wheezie and I are already arguing about popcorn flavors, and I need you to back me up."

Rafe chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss her. "I wouldn't miss that for the world." He kissed her again, this time lingering longer. "Thank you for understanding."

Olivine sighed as she watched him grab his keys from the counter, noticing the tension in his shoulders despite his calm demeanor. "Be safe, Rafe."

He turned at the doorway, giving her one last look. "Always," he said with a wink before disappearing down the hall.

As the front door closed behind him, Olivine stared after him, her chest tightening with unease. Something about the way he'd said "errand" didn't sit right with her. She turned back to the stove, stirring absentmindedly as doubts started creeping into her mind.

As Olivine set the plates on the table, Wheezie grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV, flipping through channels before landing on the news. They both froze when the anchor's voice cut through the air, grim and urgent.

"Breaking News: A manhunt is currently underway for John B. Routledge, wanted for the murder of Sheriff Susan Peterkin and the attempted murder of prominent Kildare County businessman, Ward Cameron."

Olivine's heart dropped into her stomach, her body going cold. "What?" she whispered, her eyes glued to the screen. The anchor continued, detailing the alleged crime, while images of John B's mugshot and Sheriff Peterkin's photo flashed on the screen.

"No way," Olivine muttered, her hands trembling as she scrambled for her phone. She dialed Pope first, her brother. Straight to voicemail. She tried again. Nothing.

She switched to Kiara, her brother's closest friend. No answer. JJ. Still nothing. The panic clawed at her chest as she tried Sarah, desperate for answers. After two rings, a text buzzed onto her screen instead of a call back:

"John B is innocent. Don't believe anything they say. "

"Sarah..." Olivine whispered, her thumb hovering over her phone. "What the hell is going on?"

Wheezie sat frozen on the couch, her eyes wide. "Do you think... Rafe knows about this?"

Olivine's head snapped up. "What?"

"He's been so weird about Dad and Sarah lately. And if Ward's involved..."

Olivine's stomach churned, her mind racing. She forced herself to focus, dialing other mutual friends who might know something. One after another, they either didn't answer or claimed they didn't know anything.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text from her mom:

"Come home now. It's not safe out there."

Olivine stared at the message, her pulse pounding. She turned to Wheezie, her voice shaking. "Wheezie, do you want to come with me? I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here alone. It's dangerous right now."

Wheezie hesitated, her fingers gripping the hem of her sweater. "I don't know... If I leave, Rafe's gonna freak out. And he just got back. But—"

"But what?"

"But maybe you're right." Wheezie sighed. "Let me grab a few things, just in case."

Olivine nodded, pacing the living room as Wheezie hurried upstairs. Her mind spiraled, each unanswered call and cryptic message adding to her unease. Something felt terribly wrong, and she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just about John B.

Her phone buzzed again, and her heart sank when she saw Rafe's name on the screen. She stared at it, unsure whether to pick up. What if he's involved? What if he knows?

But before she could decide, Wheezie called from the stairs. "I'm ready!"

Olivine shoved her phone into her pocket and grabbed her keys. "Alright, let's go."

As they stepped outside into the cooling night, Olivine's mind was already racing ahead, trying to piece together the growing chaos around her.

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Back at Olivine's home, the atmosphere was tense and heavy. Mariah set down a tray of tea on the coffee table, her lips pressed into a thin line, while Heyward paced the kitchen, muttering about the insanity of the news. Wheezie sat curled up on the couch, looking small and quiet. Olivine stayed close, trying to focus on her family's voices to drown out her own rising unease.

Suddenly, Wheezie's phone rang, and she flinched at the sound. Her eyes flicked to the screen, seeing Ward Cameron flash across it. With a sigh, she answered.

"Hello?" she said, her voice trembling slightly.

"Wheezie," Ward's deep voice carried through the line, calm yet strained. "Where are you?"

"I'm at Olivine's house," she replied, glancing nervously at Olivine. "I'm staying here until... until everything's clear."

There was a pause on the line before Ward sighed softly. "Alright. Put me on speaker, sweetheart."

Wheezie hesitated but complied, pressing the button and holding the phone out. "You're on."

"Olivine," Ward's voice was warmer now, almost too friendly. "Thank you for taking care of my little girl. I owe you for this. Things are... complicated right now, but I need to clear up a few things before I can come get her."

Olivine swallowed hard, her mind racing. "It's no problem, Mr. Cameron," she said cautiously. "She's safe here."

"That's all I wanted to hear," Ward replied smoothly. "Thank you again. I'll be in touch soon."

Before Olivine could respond, the call ended. Wheezie sighed, sinking further into the couch as Olivine pocketed her phone, her chest tightening.

Mariah, ever the calm observer, suddenly reached for the remote and turned the TV back on. "Let's see if there's any updates," she muttered, flipping to the news.

The screen displayed chaotic footage of an abandoned church engulfed in flames. Smoke billowed into the night sky, the fire casting eerie shadows across the scene. Reporters spoke in panicked tones about suspected arson, linking it to the manhunt for John B.

Then, the camera cut to the edge of the scene, where a group of people was dispersing near the treeline. Olivine froze, her breath hitching as the camera briefly captured a familiar figure.

It was Rafe.

His blonde hair was damp with sweat, his pale face flushed and his chest heaving as he panted heavily. His shirt was rumpled, and blood smeared his mouth, the sight making Olivine's stomach churn. Beside him, Kelce tried to guide him away, patting his shoulder as if to calm him down.

Mariah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my God. Is that...?"

Olivine didn't answer, her heart pounding wildly as she stared at the screen. Rafe stumbled, pushing Kelce out of the way as he disappeared from the frame, but the image was burned into her mind.

Wheezie let out a small, miserable sound, sinking further into the couch. "He looks... bad," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Olivine stood abruptly, her hands shaking as she gripped the back of the couch for support. Her thoughts were a whirlwind of panic, fear, and questions. What had Rafe done? What was he involved in now?

Mariah reached for Olivine's arm, concern etched across her face. "Honey, are you okay?"

Olivine barely heard her, her mind fixated on the haunting image of Rafe, bloody and broken, on the screen. She felt like the walls were closing in, her chest tight with dread.

"I... I need some air," she mumbled, turning toward the door.

"Olivia," Mariah called after her, but she didn't stop, stepping outside into the crisp night air, hoping it would help her breathe again.

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KIKI SPEAKS ;
not edited !!

a long time no see ppl

word count : 3.1k

ENJOY !!
xoxo kiki 💋💋