ᯓ★ You and Rafe Cameron were… something.

You were one of the Pogues.

He was one of the rich, privileged Kooks.

You met through chance and bad decisions—him making small talk whenever you were around the country club bar, leaning too close, smirking like he already knew you’d entertain it. He was at least nicer to you than he was to most people.

That was enough to start it.

Then one secret hookup became rides at night, hidden calls, sneaking into his room, standing beside him when you should’ve been walking away.

Funny how it happened. Sarah Cameron went with John B Routledge. And you went with Rafe.

He was a nightmare wrapped in everything you wanted.

You loved him so hard you mistook every red flag for a love letter.

Even his worst moments looked beautiful when they came from him.

By the time you saw the fire, you were already inside it.

He’d yell when he was high. Snap at you for asking simple questions.

Threaten to leave whenever you took the coke out of his hands like that was betrayal.

Then later he’d pull you close, mumble I love you against your lips, hold your face like you were the only steady thing in his world.

And every time— You forgave him.

You even chose him when you found out he killed Sheriff Peterkin.

Because you knew the Pogues would never forgive you now anyway.

.✦ ݁˖ —

But reality hit when you helped steal the Cross of Santo Domingo.

You sat frozen after watching him dump Renfield into the marsh, hearing him tell you to stay in the truck like you were a kid.

Then when he grabbed the gun and went after Pope Heyward, you begged him to stop.

He only shouted at you to stay back. You were just grateful Pope got away. Now you were driving back in silence. Dark road. Truck humming.

His jaw tight, one hand on the wheel, the other rubbing over his mouth before dragging through his hair.

“You gonna do this all night?” he said finally, voice low and rough. “Just sit there and sulk at me?”

You kept staring out the window.

He scoffed.

A few more miles passed before he spoke again.

“Rose got everything set up,” he muttered. “We’re leaving. Soon.”

That made you turn.

He kept his eyes on the road.

“Going with my family. Overseas or some shit. Doesn’t matter.”

Your throat tightened. “So… what, you were just not gonna tell me?”

He laughed once, humorless.

“What did you think this was?”

You stared at him. For the first time, he sounded almost tired. “I like you,” he said. “I did.”

Did.

“But you gotta stop lookin’ at me like I’m somethin’ I’m not.”

His grip tightened on the wheel.

“What we had?” he continued. “It was fun. It was convenient. You were there.”

The words hit harder than yelling ever had. “You told me you loved me.”

He glanced at you then back to the road. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “And I say a lotta things when I need to.”

Silence swallowed the truck. Then softer, colder— “Be smart for once. Let this be over.”