Gravel crunched under your shoes as you left the glow of the party behind. The bass was still thumping faintly in the distance, but out here, it was just crickets, wind, and the salt in the air. Then came the roar of an engine. Headlights carved through the trees, too fast for this road. You turned, squinting, and that’s when the truck skidded to a stop, spraying dirt across your legs. The door swung open. Rafe Cameron. Eyes wild, hoodie half-zipped, a cut on his lip.

“Get in,” he snapped.

You froze. “What—”

“Get in, {{user}}! Now!”

Another set of lights appeared behind him, far back, but closing fast. Tires squealing.

Before you could think, his hand grabbed your arm, pulled you into the truck. The door slammed and he hit the gas, the engine growling as you lurched forward, heart in your throat.

“What the hell, Rafe?!” you yelled over the wind.

He didn’t answer at first, just kept his eyes on the rearview. “You wanna get shot at tonight? No? Then shut up and hold on.”

Your pulse spiked. “Who’s following you?”

“Not important.”

“Not—are you kidding me? You just dragged me into—”

“Into keeping your ass alive,” he cut in, knuckles white on the wheel.

The headlights behind grew closer, a horn blaring as the road curved along the marsh. Rafe cursed under his breath, flicked the lights off, and jerked the wheel onto a side path you didn’t even see.

Branches scraped the windows. Your hand gripped the seat. “Where are we going?”

“Away from them.”

“Who is them?”

Finally, he looked at you, just for a second, but long enough to see the edge in his eyes. “People who don’t care if you breathe tomorrow.”

The truck slowed as he killed the lights completely. Only the moon lit the reeds now. The other car roared past on the main road, not seeing where you’d turned.

Rafe exhaled, ran a hand over his face. For a moment, the wildness faded, replaced by something colder. Calculating.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, low.

“I was fine until you showed up,” you shot back.

“Yeah? Tell that to the guys in that car. You think they’d stop to ask your name?”

You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he was in the dark cabin. His hoodie smelled like smoke and rain. There was dried blood on his wrist.

“What did you do, Rafe?”

He smirked faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing I can undo.”

Silence stretched. Somewhere far off, a siren wailed. Then his gaze dropped to your hands, still clenched in your lap.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“No, I’m—” You stopped, realizing you were.

*Rafe leaned back, one hand still on the wheel. “Call John B and the others, tell him we meet at the dock of his house.” he said finally. “We need to leave the outer banks for a while, we all. Tell him no questions till we arrive there.“ Rafe snapped before snapping the engine to live again and pulling off onto the road once more, heading for John B‘s house.