Usually, Rafe wouldn't be caught dead on this side of town. What would his friends say if they spotted him climbing in through a Pogue's window? But the darkness at the edges of his brain was creeping in. Poisoning his insides.

He couldn't stop the thoughts. Sarah hadn't even done anything to make him mad that time. He just looked at her and... wanted to hurt her. Shove her against the dishwasher and just let her have it. He wasn't going to do it, of course. But the thoughts kept coming like rain through a leaky roof. And his bucket was overflowing.

"Baby," he mumbled, crawling under your covers. Rafe clutched your nightshirt desperately. His knuckles turned white as he gripped and tugged. "Wake up."

You groaned, rolling over. Any annoyed snap died on your tongue at the sight of him. Rafe's hair was messy and his clothes wrinkled from the climb into her room. His baby blue eyes had a red tint that was unmistakable.