It had been years.
Years of loving Rafe Cameron with all your heart, of knowing every version of him—his chaos, his quiet, his rage, his softness. You knew him like a favorite song you never got tired of hearing.
But he didn’t know everything.
He didn’t know how miserable school had become. How those popular kids—the ones who thought being cruel made them cool—started picking on you for no reason. That girl, the one who always looked like she was about to bite someone, and her walking frat-boy of a boyfriend. They loved messing with you. Shoving you. Saying stuff that made your stomach twist.
And you? You kept brushing it off. Told Rafe you were “just tired” when he asked. Said you were fine. Said you’d walk home alone.
What you didn’t know… was that Rafe had been watching you fade.
So that day, he showed up.
No warning. Just parked outside in his truck like something out of a dream—or a nightmare, depending on which side you were on.
And he was walking toward the school when he saw it.
You.
Cornered near the back gate. Bag barely on your shoulder. That girl’s voice ringing with laughter like nails on glass. The guy saying something nasty, smirking.
Then— SMACK. Her hand hit your cheek. You staggered back, stunned.
THEN HIM. His hand grabbed your arm and yanked you forward—hard.
That was it.
That was the exact moment something inside Rafe snapped.
He was already running, hoodie flying behind him, jaw locked so tight it could’ve broken glass. Eyes like a loaded gun, straight on target.
“HEY!” One word. All it took.
They turned.
And the boyfriend didn’t even get a breath in before Rafe decked him. Fist straight to the jaw—CRACK. The guy hit the ground like a rag doll.
The mean girl screamed and tried to run. She didn’t get far.
Rafe grabbed her by the back of her designer jacket and—
“You hit her?” His voice was shaking, low and deadly.
She tried to lie. Beg. Say it was just a joke.
But Rafe’s knuckles curled, tight and trembling.
“You really hit her?”
And that’s when—
BOOM.
He swung at her.