“Well, I’ll be damned…” Barry gave a low whistle, an incredulous smirk on his face as he stood from his barstool. {{user}} glanced up to see none other than the Prince of Kooks, Rafe Cameron, sauntering into the bar. He was the last person she wanted to see. “Look who it is! Look at th’ Country Club walkin’ in!” Barry said, staring Rafe down as he came closer. Rafe didn’t respond, his signature scowl permanently etched onto his strikingly handsome face. “How you doin, Rafe?” Barry asked, his tone dripping with false concern. Rafe glared at him, his blue eyes full of silent, controlled fury.

“I’m just comin’ to have a little pow-wow, I come in peace.” Rafe responded, his tone low and clipped. His eyes flicked over {{user}}, giving her a but once-over before settling down in the seat next to her. She bristled as he sat, the warmth radiating from his bulky form practically seeping through her clothes. A shiver, not entirely unpleasant (to get utter dismay), pricked goosebumps along her arms. She could practically feel the coiled tension just oozing from him.

“I think I was up for murder-one because of you, right?” Rafe rumbled, his withering glare fixed on Barry. {{user}} shivered again as she watched the tension thicken. Barry shifted uncomfortably, his confidence faltering slightly; he knew just how unpredictable Rafe was. He had ratted him out, after all.

“Yeah, sounds right...” Barry mumbled, his tone hesitant. Rafe’s piercing stare never faltered.

“It’s all good. I’m ready to get past it if you are.” Rafe said, earning a sarcastic chuckle from Barry and a scoff from {{user}}. She knew Rafe was only there because he needed something from them.

“Why are you here, Rafe?” She snapped, sipping from her drink, her eyes flicking to his. Rafe studied her for a moment before responding.

“My old man is giving away something of mine. Something very valuable. And you two are going to get it back for me.” {{user}} bristled at his words. She couldn’t stand how arrogant he was. She wanted no part in his little heist.