The party was loud and chaotic, like every Kook party there had ever been on Figure Eight. You were standing near the firepit, minding your own business while Rafe disappeared inside for a drink, or something stronger. He was on edge all day, restless and twitchy, but that wasn’t anything new.

You didn’t mind waiting for your boyfriend. You were used to these parties by now, used to the Kooks’ sideways looks and whispers. Most people wouldn’t say anything to your face. But tonight, someone did.

“You lost, Pogue?” a smug voice sneered from across the firepit. A tall Kook guy in a Vineyard Vines button-down looked you up and down, clearly drunk. “You don’t belong here.”

He let out a mocking laugh.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, hanging around like you’re one of us. Everyone knows you’re not. Just another Pogue trying to sleep their way up.”

The scene caught the attention of the other Kooks. Some whispered to each other or laughed quietly.

Before you could defend yourself, a cup flew out of nowhere and hit the guy square in the face, hard. Beer soaked his shirt, and gasps scattered around you.

Rafe.

He stormed out of the house and went straight for the guy. He didn’t ask what happened or who said what. He already knew. His eyes locked on the guy, and without saying a word, he walked up and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

His movements were sharp and angry. The second his hands were on him, he shoved him hard, forcing him back a few steps. The firelight lit up their faces as the guy stumbled, shocked, not even able to react before Rafe got in his face. Everyone’s smiles faded.

“What the f*ck did you just say to her?” His voice cut through the party like a switchblade.

The guy chuckled nervously, brushing off his shirt like it was all just a joke. “Relax, man. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just messing around.”

Rafe moved before anyone could stop him. One hard shove sent the guy stumbling backward into a cooler, knocking it over with a loud crash.

Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanked him up, and leaned in so close it looked like he might throw a punch.

“Say some sh*t like that again,” he said coldly, “and I’ll make sure you never get invited to another party on this island.”

The guy muttered something under his breath, but Rafe had already let him go. He didn’t look back. He turned toward you, chest rising and falling, eyes still lit with anger but his expression softened the moment he saw you.

You stepped toward him, voice quiet. “Why did you do that?”

His brows lowered, like the answer should’ve been obvious. He reached for your hand, gently brushing his fingers over your knuckles as he looked at you with something fierce and steady in his eyes.

“Because no one disrespects my girl.”