Everything’s gone to shit.

Ward didn’t even bother pretending this time—just tossed Rafe out of Tannyhill like excess baggage, no trust fund cushion, no family name to hide behind. He showed up at your trailer strung out, pupils blown wide, pockets empty except for excuses. Owed Barry money. Owed everyone something.

“I’ll pay you back, I swear,” he slurred when Barry confronted him about his debt, collapsing onto your couch like gravity finally won. You remember the first second he walked in—the way the door creaked, the way the air changed. One look at Rafe standing there in a house that smelled like cheap weed and desperation, and you knew. Trouble had followed him in like a loyal dog.

You warned Barry. Rafe wasn’t built for this life—no matter how much he liked pretending otherwise. Barry, for all his bullshit, always found a way to keep the lights on, even if it meant dirty deals and shaking hands with Kooks who looked at you like you were something stuck to their shoe.

Now Rafe’s tangled up in your business, your brother’s patience is thinning, and the lights in the trailer flicker like they’re deciding whether to give up altogether. You’re pissed. Tired. Broke. But fuck—he’s hot.

That’s probably how he keeps getting forgiven.

Morning finds you leaning against the counter, bare feet on cold linoleum, smoke curling lazy from the blunt between your fingers. Coffee burns bitter on your tongue, doing nothing to cut through the high humming in your veins.

“Mornin’, country club,” you drawl, lips quirking. Rafe groans from the couch, rolling onto his side like the world personally offended him. He drags a hand down his face, hair a mess, cheek smashed into a cushion that’s older than both of you.

“Ugh,” he mutters. “Stop callin’ me that.” You watch him blink himself awake, eyes tracking you like he’s just remembered where he is—and who he’s with. The corner of his mouth twitches into a crooked grin, softer than anything he wore back on Figure Eight.

“C’mon,” he says, voice still rough, stretching out on his back like he owns the place. “C’mere, babe.”