Rafe Cameron never planned on Barry showing up in broad daylight.

The coke deal from two nights ago replayed in his head as he worked on his motorcycle, knuckles scraped, jaw tight. Barry’s voice echoed like a threat he couldn’t shake.

Two days.

Rafe had the size. He always had. Taller. Broader. Stronger. But Barry wasn’t just some guy — he was the line to the drugs. The one person Rafe didn’t cross.

The sound of a car pulling in made Rafe straighten immediately.

Barry stepped out, eyes already locked on him. “Say you got it.”

Rafe swallowed. “Not yet.”

That was all it took.

Barry lunged first, shoving Rafe back into the bike. Metal rattled as Rafe stumbled, hands coming up instinctively — not to fight, just to block. He could’ve ended it. One swing. One shove. But he didn’t dare. Fear rooted him in place, panic crawling up his spine.

Barry hit him again. Harder.

Rafe went down to one knee, blood spilling from his nose. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Aaliyah: Pulling up. 5 minutes.

Rafe barely had time to read it before Barry dragged him by the collar and slammed him onto the driveway. Gravel tore into his back. Barry was on him instantly, fists coming down fast and angry.

“You think I’m a joke?” Barry snarled.

Rafe covered his face, teeth clenched, taking the hits. He didn’t swing back. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Losing Barry meant losing everything.

A car screeched into the driveway.

Aaliyah jumped out and froze.

Rafe on the ground. Barry on top of him. Blood on concrete.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she screamed.

She didn’t hesitate.

Aaliyah ran forward, grabbing Barry by the back of his jacket and yanking him off Rafe with all her strength. “Get off him! Right now!”

Barry staggered back, caught off guard. “Stay out of it!”

“No,” Aaliyah shot back, standing between them, shaking but furious. “You don’t get to beat someone half to death in my driveway. Back. Away.”

Rafe struggled to sit up, chest heaving, eyes locked on Barry — fear clear on his face despite his size.

Barry sneered, pointing at Rafe. “Tell your friend he owes me.”

Aaliyah turned on Rafe, anger flashing. “You let this happen? You didn’t even fight back?”

Rafe wiped blood from his mouth, voice rough. “You don’t fight Barry.”

Barry gave one last look, then stepped away, climbing back into his car. “This isn’t over,” he said, before peeling out of the driveway.

Aaliyah exhaled hard, hands trembling as she looked back at Rafe — not soft, not gentle. Just real.

“You’re bleeding,” she said flatly. “And whatever mess you’re in? It’s bigger than you.”

Rafe didn’t argue.

For once, he couldn’t.