In the two months they spent together, Slater had only been scared of Rafe Cameron one time.

They weren't really dating, but they did spend a lot of time together, beyond just hooking up. Sometimes they'd grab lunch and bring it back to Tannyhill to eat together. Other times they'd take the boat out, jump off, and go for a swim. One time they even watched the sunset together — although they hadn't actually finished watching the sunset, and by the time they were done making out on the leather seats of the My Druthers, it was well past dark.

One particular day, when the club was too crowded and it was hot and humid in every nook and cranny on the island, they took the boat out, a little ways away from shore, to escape the blistering heat and find a bit of sea breeze to cool them down. Rafe had just gotten in a massive argument with his father — the worst one Slater had witnessed to this day — all while she'd been hiding out in his bedroom.

After Ward left, Rafe stormed up to his room, throwing the door open with such intensity that she was sure it would fall off its antique hinges.

His face was red, his blond hair disheveled. His fists were clenched tightly at his side as he paced back and forth in front of her.

"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to fucking kill him."

It was a common turn of phrase after an argument, but the way Rafe said it made it feel like more than that.

Despite his anger, his voice was steady, almost calm.

His eyes locked on hers, and she felt goosebumps immediately cover her arms and the back of her neck, despite the heat. The look on his face was terrifying. She didn't know what to do.

"Let's go out on the water," she said carefully. "Cool off."

In more ways than one.

He nodded quickly, his eyes not quite meeting hers, as if he were worlds away inside his brain. "Yeah yeah yeah, good idea. Cool off," he echoed.

She stood carefully, working to keep her breathing even as she took his side. "Let's go now, then, before anyone sees."

She followed him out of the room and down the stairs. Rafe remained quiet the entire walk to the Druthers, and the entire time he worked to ready the boat. He didn't speak until they were halfway down the channel, and the open ocean was right in view.

"My dad, he doesn't understand me. He doesn't get me. He never will," he said quietly. "I have to show him. Show him who I am. Then he'll see."

"What do you mean, Rafe?"

He met her eyes, his pupils dilated so far that she could barely see the blue of his irises. Her heart raced in her chest.

"Then he'll see."

Slater had always known Rafe wasn't the best person, yet she couldn't help being enamored by him. Looking back, she knew she was young, naive, and foolish. Still, she'd never imagined, not in her wildest nightmare, that he'd become a murderer.

And that the person he'd murder would be Sheriff Peterkin.

When Slater was in Girl Scouts, in elementary school, they'd been given a project to interview a woman they admired. Slater had chosen Sheriff Peterkin. When Pete had started on the force, she was the only woman, and one of only two black officers. She quickly rose through the ranks, and the year that Slater interviewed her for her Girl Scouts project was the third year of her first term. Peterkin was beloved by all, on both sides of the island. She had a no-nonsense attitude that the corrupt island's police force desperately needed.

Not to mention, before she'd become sheriff, she was Victor Shoupe's police partner, and his oldest friend on the force. They'd even known each other in the academy. Hell, he'd known Pete longer than he'd known Leanore.

And Rafe Cameron murdered her.

In only a few short hours, Slater's entire life had turned upside down. Her friend was wanted for murder he did not commit -- a murder committed by his girlfriend's brother. Every single person on the island was trying to track John B down, and at the head of the search party was Slater's father, who'd been quickly named Interim Sheriff amongst the chaos. She'd been dodging calls from Vic all day, up until her phone died.

With John B's photo plastered across the island, there was no way for John B to lay low. So, the pogues had resorted to the next best option: an escape plan. JJ's dad had an old racing boat, the Phantom, that he used to move illegal contraband up and down the coast. With the SS Pogue surrounded by cops, it was John B's only chance at freedom.

Unless ...

Slater had a plan of her own.

The pogues had been laying low, parked in an unsuspecting place, formulating John B's escape route, when Slater left the vehicle on the pretenses of needing to pee. She'd been gone at least ten minutes now, and she was sure they were worried about her at this point, especially JJ. If she'd told them about her plan, they would have tried to talk her out of it, and she didn't need any of them getting involved.

This was the one thing she could do to help John B. She couldn't offer a boat or fake passports or any evidence of Rafe Cameron's guilt, but she could try pleading her case to the new interim sheriff: her father.

She hadn't seen Vic since the night of their big fight, and as she walked down the crowded street towards the police station. She entered the building, pushing her way towards the hoard of officers and concerned citizens, stopping at the front desk.

"Slater, sweetie," the secretary, Bernice, jumped in surprise as Slater walked up to her desk, probably looking disheveled and out of place. "Your father isn't here right now, I'm afraid."

"I need to know where he is," Slater replied. "I need to talk to him."

"Sweetie, your father is really busy right now --"

"Bernice, I need to see him, okay? And my phone is dead, so I can't call him."

"Well, you can try using that pay phone over there," Bernice said, pointing to the wall.

Slater shook her head. "Bernice, I really need to see him in person. It's important. Can you please find out where he is?"

Bernice fixed the girl with a questioning stare, and for a moment, Slater wondered if Vic had informed the woman on his daughter's latest troubles. Finally, she let out a sigh and nodded. "Okay, give me a few minutes." She reached for a radio, bringing it to her mouth. "502, this is the station. Requesting 10-20."

The only reply was static for a few seconds, before Vic's voice rang out. Slater felt a sense of relief on hearing her father's voice. He was alive and well.

"This is 502. 10-20, The Wreck restaurant, Channel Street."

"10-4, 502," Bernice replied, setting the radio down. "He's at The Wreck, Slater, but he probably won't be there very long. I'd get a move on if I were you."

"Thank you so much, Bernice," Slater replied, plastering an innocent smile on her face. As the older woman stood up, coffee cup in hand, Slater quickly reached over the desk, grabbing one of the police radios.

If Slater's plan to help John B failed, at least the pogues would know the police's next moves.

As soon as her feet were back outside, Slater raced down the street, the radio clipped to her shorts. She ran towards the direction of the Wreck, knowing her father was likely there questioning the Carreras, and asking about their daughter, who might have information on John B. She rounded the corner and reached the driveway just as the restaurant's front door opened, and out stepped her father, accompanied by another officer, Deputy Plumb.

"Dad!" Slater called out, just as Vic and Plumb were about to enter the squad. She didn't need them driving away and missing her entirely.

"Slater?" Vic quickly stepped out of the car, shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched his daughter careen down the driveway, coming to a stop a few feet from the cruiser.

Slater doubled over, her shoulders heaving as she attempted to catch her breath. She was doing far more running than she ever imagined. She really was regretting walking the mile every year in gym class.

"Slater, are you okay?" Vic stepped towards her, leaving a bewildered Plumb in the passenger seat of the squad. He placed a hand on her back as she caught her breath, rubbing it gently as Slater stood back up, breathing deeply. "Why are you running? Where are you running from?"

"You're okay," she gasped out, studying the man's face as her eyes quickly fell damp. No, that wasn't what she was here to do. She wasn't here to cry in front of her father. She needed his help. She was still mad at him, dammit.

"Are you?" Shoupe asked, pulling the girl in for a hug. Slater sniffled against his uniform, tensing as she realized he was wearing a bulletproof vest under his uniform. Kevlar, for John B. If only they knew that John B wouldn't hurt a fly.

"I need to talk to you," Slater said, her eyes scanning back to Plumb, who was watching them intently. "In private."

Shoupe nodded and instructed Plumb to wait for him inside the restaurant, then turned his attention back to Slater. "Where the hell have you been, Slater? Maeve told us you left, and then all this shit happened with the sheriff, and meanwhile my daughter is missing."

"That's what I need to talk to you about. Sheriff Pete."

"Well, good. I've been meaning to talk to you about this, too. We're looking for your pogue friend, John B Routledge."

"I know."

"Okay. Then where the hell is he?"

"John B didn't do it, Dad."

Vic snorted. "Oh really? Were you there, Slater?"

"No."

He nodded. "Exactly."

"John B didn't murder Sheriff Peterkin, Dad!" Slater repeated. "Rafe Cameron did!"

"Rafe Cameron," Vic repeated disbelievingly.

"Yes, Dad. Pete was there to arrest Ward, and Rafe shot her to defend his father."

"If you weren't there, then how do you know this?"

"Because --"

"Because John B told you? The exact same John B that is wanted for questioning in Sheriff Peterkin's murder? Slater, don't start with me. Not on this. You know what Peterkin meant to me."

Slater was about to respond when the sound of a loud motorbike filled the air. Slater and Vic turned to see JJ racing down the driveway on his red bike, screeching to a halt mere inches from the fender of the squad car.

"Slater! What the hell are you doing?" JJ called from his bike.

Deputy Plumb swung the door of the restaurant open and stomped down the stairs, making a beeline for JJ.

"Leave JJ alone, Plumb!" Slater yelled, her fists balled at her sides.

"I don't take orders from you, sweetheart, I take 'em from your father," Plumb replied, continuing her march towards JJ.

"Wait a second, Plumb!" Vic called out, before turning his attention back on Slater. "You were saying?"

"I do know how much she meant to you, Dad," Slater continued. "How much she meant to this entire island. I would never lie to you about this. John B is innocent!"

"Did you see it, Slater? Did you see her die?"

Slater stammered for the words. "N-no, I didn't ..."

"Exactly. Honey, I know John B is your friend, and I know you like to see the best in people. It's an admirable trait, it really is. But it's also really naive."

Slater felt her bottom lip quiver. She was so sure, so confident that she could convince Vic of John B's innocence, but she was failing. "I know. I do try and see the best of people. And it's failed me before, with Rafe Cameron. That's how I know he is a bad person, and that's why I believe John B when he says Rafe shot the sheriff. He'd do anything to get on his father's good side, because he's always been at war with Ward's affection." She thought back to that afternoon on the water, the only time she'd been truly scared of a person. "Believe me, I know."

Vic shook his head and held his hand out, cutting her off. "Slater, I don't know what happened between you and Rafe Cameron, but if you say he's wronged you, then I believe you, okay? That boy may be fucked up, but we have several eyewitnesses putting John B Routledge at the scene of the crime, and with the murder weapon -- which is still missing, I might add -- when Pete was killed." His eyes narrowed on his daughter. "And if you know anything that could help us, if you know where John B is hiding out ... you need to tell me."

At this point, tears were freely streaming down Slater's face, and her whole body was shaking. "Dad ... you have to believe me."

Vic gave his head the slightest of a shake. "Slater, where is John B?"

Slater wiped the tears from her eyes and turned away, finally meeting JJ's eyes as he waited on his bike, her Prince Charming, her getaway car. "Even if I did know," she said in a whisper just loud enough for Vic to hear. "I wouldn't tell you."

She turned towards the bike, and Vic grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Where the hell do you think you're going? You need to go home, Slater. To your mother and your sister. They're worried sick about you."

"I'm not going home, Dad," she said, pulling free of his grasp.

"Slater, you could get arrested. Obstruction of justice. Just go home."

Slater snorted. "I'm not the one obstructing justice."

"Do not get on that bike!"

On that note, Slater turned away from her father, and he let her go, watching as she hopped on the back of JJ's bike and sped away into the afternoon. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ author's note ✫・゜・。.

real talk - which outer banks character are you most like? while i'd love to say i'm like kie or john b, i'm 100% a season one pope, and i'm okay with that.

stressed out about everything? check.

getting talked into doing things with my friends i don't really want to do, and then worrying about it? check.

academic? check. (or i was, not in school anymore lol)

i don't really have much to say about this chapter, but i feel like it kind of explored slater and vic's father-daughter relationship a bit more. we're gearing up for the climax of season one, and as we all know, it's a doozy. 

anyways.

thanks for reading! let me know what you think! 

for more jj content written by moi, go check out "hopelessly devoted," on my profile.

xx,

madi