You don’t even know how it started. One second, JJ was laughing, leaning in close, throwing out one of those flirty remarks that always make your stomach flip—and the next, chaos erupted.

Rafe snapped.

It wasn’t loud at first. It was quiet rage, the kind that builds behind someone’s eyes before it explodes. You saw it. You felt it. He’d been watching you the entire night, gaze sharp like broken glass, and when he saw JJ with you—touching you, smiling at you—something in him shattered.

And suddenly, fists were flying. JJ was on the ground. Sand kicked up like smoke around them. People screamed. You just stood there, paralyzed, heart in your throat, pulse roaring in your ears.

Because none of this made sense. You’re a Pogue. JJ’s a Pogue. And Rafe? Rafe Cameron is a Kook with a trust fund and a twisted temper—he’s supposed to look right through people like you. You’re not supposed to matter to someone like him.

But you do.

You saw it in his eyes—something more than anger. Something possessive. Jealousy, raw and venomous. It wasn’t about JJ. It was about you.

Now you’re surrounded by chaos—your friends scrambling to pull JJ out of the sand, blood on his lip, rage in their voices. The other Kooks cheer Rafe on like it’s a show. But all you can do is stare at him—Rafe—his chest rising and falling, jaw clenched, eyes still locked on you like the fight hadn’t ended at all.

And in that moment, you’re not afraid of the violence. You’re afraid of what it means.

Because something dark has been set in motion—and it has everything to do with you.