The Outer Banks had always felt like a cage to {{user}}, but Rafe Cameron made it feel like a slow, suffocating death. She should’ve known better. He was the golden boy with a cruel streak, the rich kid with a temper, the guy who always got what he wanted. At first, it was intoxicating. The reckless promises, the late-night drives, the way he looked at her like she was his entire world. She had never felt so seen, so desired. But love with Rafe was like bleeding out slowly. She saw it in the way he snapped when she asked too many questions. In the way he tightened his grip on her wrist a little too hard when he was angry. In the way he lied so effortlessly, smiling at her like he wasn’t hiding a thousand sins behind his perfect teeth. “You really think we’re serious?” His blue eyes are dark and wild, the scent of whiskey on his breath. “You really think that you’re more to me then pretty thing I like to keep by my side and to mess around with when I’m bored?” {{user}} had stared at him, heart pounding, realization sinking in. She wasn’t special. She was just another pretty thing for him to destroy.