Chapter Text
Present Day, Rafe’s POV
I hadn’t slept since I got here.
Hadn’t dreamed of anything but her since the night they dragged me in. These goddamn fluorescent lights overhead was killing my head. I wondered what she was doing. I wondered how her plan was going.
BANG. A clang of metal snapped me back to reality. My focus was now at my door.
“Cameron. On your feet.”
I lifted my head slowly. The guard stood outside the bars, chin jutted toward the hallway. I was still fucking confused, unsure if I heard him right.
“What’s this about?” My voice sounded gravelly, worn from silence.
“Paperwork,” he said, already turning his back to me.
I stood, heart beginning to thud unevenly in my chest. I’d been in here long enough to know they didn’t pull you out of your cell for paperwork at this hour. I followed, boots echoing down the hallway.
They brought me to a dimly lit office. All cracked linoleum and stale air. Way too fucking pale. A single pile of documents sat on the desk.
The guard exhaled and looked at me for the first time.
“New evidence came in. Turns out, you didn’t kill that guy in Barbados.”
My vision tunneled.
“What?” I asked.
He nodded at the stack. “You’re being released. Just sign.”
My fingers shook as I grabbed the pen. I signed without hesitation. Line after line, I scrawled my name, until the last signature was down.
The guard gave me a nod. “You’re a free man.”
I didn’t breathe until I stepped outside.
The heavy door slammed behind me, and it was sounded final. I was out. The cool air hit me, a contrast to the air wave in the cell. My heart was fucking hammering, and I looked like a madman as I looked around for someone.
Her.
And then I saw her.
Brooke.
She stood there, arms crossed, trying to seem tough but I saw the worry in her face. Her face—God, her face. I’d memorized it in my cell like a prayer, and now she was real, standing ten feet away. Barry stood beside her, his smirk faint as he watched my eyes lighten. But I barely registered him. My eyes locked on her.
I didn’t think, couldn’t. I didn’t even breathe. My legs moved on instinct.
Two strides and I was there, cupping her face, dragging her to me with a desperation I didn’t know I had. My lips crashed against hers, kissing her like I was starved, like she was oxygen. She fucking was.
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” I muttered against her lips. My voice was hoarse and my breathing was uneven still because I couldn’t fucking wrap my head around any of this.
She gave a breathless laugh as her voice trembled. “Took you long enough to figure that out,” she said, her hands clutching my shirt.
I stared at her, my eyes tracing every inch of her face. She was a prayer I’d clung to. I wasn’t letting her go, not now, not ever. I didn’t care that Barry was there, didn’t care about anything but her.
Barry clapped sarcastically, his voice dragging me back. “Alright, lovebirds,” he said, teasingly. “Let’s wrap this up before someone realizes we just played ‘em.”
I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. “You?”
Barry shrugged, his grin wide. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all emotional about it.”
I turned back to Brooke, my thumb brushing her cheek. “You did this for me.”
She met my gaze, that fire in her eyes—the look that hooked me from the start. “Of course I did.”
That was it, the moment
That was it. That was the moment. She wasn’t just someone I loved—she was mine. My chaos. My mess. My fucking everything.
Barry groaned behind us. "Jesus Christ, I regret this already. Let’s go."
Still holding her hand, I smirked. "Yeah. Let’s go."
━━━
The second we stepped inside, the door clacked behind us, and I swear I couldn’t keep my fucking hands off her. She was walking in front of me, all soft curves and nerves and stubborn fire, and it hit me again.
She did this.
She got me out.
“Jesus Christ, Routledge,” I muttered, my hand sliding around her waist from behind. My chest brushed her back, my chin almost at her shoulder. “You really are out of your fucking mind.”
She laughed lightly, breath catching like she still hadn’t processed it either. “Told you.”
I buried my nose in her hair, couldn’t stop touching her. Couldn’t stop feeling like I might lose her again. My hand smoothed along her waist, up her ribs, thumb brushing beneath her shirt. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until I heard Barry grunt behind us.
“Okay—nope,” he said, raising both hands, “I didn’t bust you out for murder just to watch you two dry-hump in my living room.”
Brooke let out a laugh, but I barely looked up. I was still staring at her. “I missed you,” I said, the words weak in my throat, “I missed the shit out of you, baby.”
She turned slightly in my hold, facing me. “You’re out,” she whispered, her voice still trembling, “I told you I’d get you out.”
My eyes burned, her words doing something to me I couldn’t explain. Nobody had ever fought for me like that. Nobody had ever fucking picked me. But she did.
My lips crashed against hers, desperate once more, because she was the only thing that was keeping me sane. She kissed me back, like she meant it, and her hands fisted my shirt and pulled me closer.
“Goddamn,” Barry muttered, annoyed. “Get a room.”
I pulled back just enough to speak, my forehead against hers. “Oh, we will,” I said, my voice low. I dragged her toward Barry’s bedroom, my hand tight around hers.
“Not my fucking—” Barry started.
“Five minutes!” I shouted, slamming the doors behind us.
The bedroom reeked of weed and cheap air freshener, but I couldn’t even focus on any of it. Brooke turned, raising an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “Really? In here?”
I grinned, cornering her gently until her back met the door. “You wanna wait ‘til we’re back at Tannyhill?” I asked. “‘Cause I won’t survive that long.”
She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “Rafe.”
“What?” I whispered, leaning in, my lips ghosting over hers. “You want me to stop kissing you?”
“I didn’t say that,” she said, her mouth tilting up, and her smile broke through.
I caught her smile with another kiss, which was much slower. My hands cupped her face, and I pulled back just enough to speak again. “You got me out. You did the impossible.”
She stared up at me, her hand gripping my shirt. “Of course I did,” she said, “You think I was gonna let you rot in there?”
God.
My breath stuttered, and my chest collapsed on itself. “You want me to thank you properly, baby?”
She nodded once, and that was all it took.
Her back hit the door with a soft thud, and I was on her. My body pressed into hers as my mouth crashed onto hers with weeks of pent-up bullshit exploding out. My fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, like I could fuse us together.
The door rattled as I leaned in harder, my hips pinning hers. “God, I missed you so much,” she whispered, her eyes shiny in the dim light.
I groaned, my hands sliding to her waist. “You have no idea, baby,” I said, “No fucking idea what you do to me.”
I kissed her again, slower, but no less intense. She whimpered, her fingers tugging at my shirt, yanking it up. I helped, breaking the kiss to rip it over my head, tossing it onto the floor. Her hands roamed my chest, nails scraping lightly which sent sparks straight to my groin.
I returned the favor, my fingers slipping under her shirt, brushing the soft skin of her stomach. “Let me see you,” I said, my voice dry, “Been dreaming about you every night in there.”
I peeled her shirt up slowly, my thumbs grazing her ribs, her bra, until her arms lifted and I could pull it off.
I undid her bra clasp with one hand, my lips on her collarbone, kissing soft. “Thought about your laugh, your smile, your pretty face,” I said, my mouth moving to her neck, sucking lightly. “Thought about you under me. Saying my name the way you do.”
She let out a moan, her head tilting back against the door with a small thump. I pressed closer, and our kisses became messier. The door rattled louder, and it was probably echoing through the whole trailer, and I didn’t really care if Barry heard.
I kicked off my shoes, my hands fumbling with my belt. I shoved them down, stepping out. My fingers went to her jeans, popping the button and tugging the zipper. “Help me out here, baby,” I said, kissing her cheek. “Wanna feel all of you.”
She nodded, breathless, her hands joining mine. She shimmied the jeans down her hips, and the moment they were on the floor, I hooked my arms under her thighs. I lifted her in one move, and her legs wrapped around my waist. I carried her to the bed and lowered her, and propped myself up, hovering over her.
I dove back in, kissing her deep, my body settling between her legs. “Missed this so much,” I whispered, my hand sliding up her thigh. “Missed making you feel good. You deserve it all, baby. For what you did for me.”
“Rafe,” she breathed, her voice soft and needy the way it always is before I lose my fucking mind.
“Gonna make you feel good,” I said, our kisses tangling, tongues clashing as I rocked against her. “Repay every second you fought for me.” My mouth trailed down her neck, leaving a hickey or two for later. She continued to arch into me, and I would press against her every time.
My mouth continued to trail down her chest, kissing between her breasts, over her stomach. When I reached her underwear, I pressed my mouth against the fabric, right over her core, and she bucked against me. I hooked my fingers in the waistband, dragging them down her legs, and tossing them aside.
“Look at you,” I said, my eyes locked on hers as I spread her thighs wider. I dove in, my tongue flat against her. Her hips jerked, and loud moans filled the room.
“Fuck, Rafe,” she cried, her one hand tugging my hair, and the other fisting the sheets.
My fingers joined, curling that spot inside her. She was a mess, her hips bucking, and her screams muffled only when she turned her head into the pillow. My free hand shot up, grabbing her jaw and pulling her away from the pillow.
“Let me hear you. Don’t give a fuck if Barry hears.”
She obeyed, her moans turning into cries. Her body was writhing, but I didn’t let up. Her hips bucked as she shattered, her back arching off the bed. I lapped her through it, drawing it out until she was trembling.
I crawled back up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Now, let me really thank you.”
I positioned myself, sliding in slow, lifting her hips with one hand to angle her just right. She gasped, her hands landing on my shoulders. I hooked one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her up.
It was intense, moving together like we’d never been apart. I buried my face in her neck, kissing the skin there. “You feel so fucking good.” Thrust. “Love you so much.”
Another thrust, and her moans got louder. I kissed her neck, and my free hand roamed down her body, holding anything I could. Her sounds, whimpers, gasps—only made it harder to continue going. We came together, her clenching around me. My groans muffled her hair as I spilled inside her.
━━━
The air still felt heavy, and sweat slicked both our bodies from what we’d just done. The bedsheets beneath us were a tangled mess, twisted around our legs in the aftermath. I lay flat on my back, still trying to catch my breath. Brooke didn’t move beside me, not right away.
I shifted first, sitting up on the edge of the bed. I reached lazily for the boxers pooled on the floor, and my hand brushed black lace that was her underwear as well. I held it by the waistband, dangling it between my fingers, then glanced over my shoulder.
A smirk tugged at my lips. “You dropped somethin’,” I muttered.
Brooke was already tugging the sheet up, wrapping it tightly around her chest, and pulling the rest of the ends around her thighs. She looked over and blushed, and shook her head.
I raised a brow, tossing her underwear onto the nightstand with a smirk. We fell quiet, the only sound was the TV playing in the living room, and Barry’s fan in the corner of the room.
“Think Barry heard?” I asked, a low chuckle rumbling in my chest.
She snorted, her cheeks turning pink. “If he didn’t leave halfway through, he's probably mad in a corner.”
“Wouldn’t blame him,” I said, my smirk widening. “You were loud, baby. Loud as hell.”
She rolled her eyes, her cheeks reddening further. “Shut up,” she muttered, but a smile broke through regardless.
I leaned back against the headboard, and my gaze stayed on her. On her messy hair, the tangled sheets, her swollen lips. “You were,” I added. “Don’t act like I didn’t hear you.”
She giggled. “I’m gonna kill you.”
She moved slowly, the sheet still wrapped around her, shifting to straddle my lap. The sheet bunched between us, and she held it up to her chest. My hands found her thighs instinctively. I didn’t say anything at first, just looked at her.
“I was thinkin’ a lot in there,” I said finally. “In that cell. Had a lot of fucking time. Nothing else to do.”
She nodded slightly, waiting. “I thought about what I’d do when I got out,” I continued. “Who I’d see. What I wanted.” I paused, my breath catching. “You were the only thing that made it make sense. The only thing that didn’t piss me off to think about.”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak, just held my gaze. “I want this shit handled, Brooke,” I said, my hands tightening on her thighs. “I want everything cleaned up. I want us to be good. I want things mine. You. Us. No more halfway. No more trying to share.”
“Share?” she echoed, her brow raising and a small smile tugging at her lips.
I laughed. “You know what I mean.”
Her breath caught, her eyes flickering with that mix of annoyance of bringing him up, but also something deeper. “I don’t take lightly to people touchin’ what’s mine,” I said, my fingers tracing her thighs. “I’m not trying to control you, alright? I’m not. You’re still you. But I’m me too, and I don’t like other people getting pieces of you that belong to me.”
Her breath caught again, and her eyes softened. “You don’t need to worry about anyone else.”
“No, listen to me,” I said, leaning forward. “I mean it. You got shit going on? You come to me. Not them. Not your little friends. Me.”
Her smile twitched. “Little friends?”
A smirk tugged at my lips. “Yeah. Little friends.”
“I like when you get all intense like this,” she teased gently, her smile glowing. “Kinda hot.”
I gave her a look, caught between amusement and exasperation. “I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“You don’t gotta be strong all the time,” I said, staring at her for a moment. “You don’t have to fix shit yourself. You don’t have to think sometimes. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you. You got that?”
There was a pause, and she blinked. I’ve never seen her so soft in my life.
“Okay.”
I tilted my head, my heart pounding as she smiled at me. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “I got it.”
But I wasn’t done, I needed to hear it one more time. “You got it, baby?” I asked, my voise teasing now as I leaned forward.
She laughed under her breath, rolling her eyes and a smile breaking through once more. “I got it.”
I kissed her, with that bruised softness that said I didn’t want to let her go. Not now, not ever. My lips lingered on hers, and I held her the exact way I dreamt of when I couldn’t.
I didn’t know what the hell was going to happen next, but I knew now that it was me and her.
Me and her. Against all odds.
━━━
Present Day, Brooke’s POV
The wind on the tarmac smelled too familiar and I hated it. There was no use for a shower, since my skin was sweaty the moment I stepped out of the house.
John B had texted me earlier:
Meet me at the tarmac. Everyone’s here.
I didn’t ask questions. Just said okay and stared at the message until the dots stopped. That was hours ago.
Now, all out in the open was Ward’s plane. A gnawing feeling washed over me, something close to fear and familiarity. I’ve done this before. We’ve all been here before.
I hesitated, boots crunching lightly on the gravel, unsure if this was a bad idea. I haven't talked to half of them since… everything. Since I’d thrown myself headfirst into chaos for someone I wasn’t supposed to love. But I didn’t exactly hate myself for it either. Not yet, anyway.
The first to move was Sarah. Her hair winded behind her as she jogged to me, arms already outstretched. She didn’t say anything at first—just wrapped her arms around me tight.
Then she leaned in, whispering into my ear so softly I almost thought I imagined it. “Is he out?”
I nodded.
Her breath hitched, but she pulled back with a small, relieved smile. “Good,” she said. “Good.”
“BROOKE!”
I barely had time to turn before Cleo practically tackled me into a hug. Her braids hit my cheek, and I stumbled back a step, laughing in surprise. Pope was right behind her, waiting with a half-smile, and pulled me in for a hug too. I blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden wave of affection.
“Okay,” I said, trying to joke through the warmth crawling up my throat. “What’s with all the hugs? I didn’t die.”
Pope laughed. “John B told everyone to hug you when you got here.”
I turned to my brother, my brows raised. “Seriously?”
John B shook his head innocently. “I never said that.”
“Liar,” I muttered, but I was smiling now. I could feel it, stretching across my face.
Everyone was here.
Well—almost everyone.
I felt it before I saw it. That familiar weight of a stare. My eyes flicked toward the plane, and there he was. JJ, sitting on the metal steps. He didn’t say anything. Just watched me. Not intense. Not hostile. Just... looking.
I dropped my gaze.
Sarah noticed. Of course she did.
My arms crossed instinctively. “Where’s Kiara?”
John B’s face shifted. He took a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s kind of why I texted you.”
JJ’s voice cut in. “Her parents have something to do with it,” he said, his eyes fixed on the concrete.
I looked up. “What?”
“They’ve been threatening her with that wilderness place for months,” Sarah added, her brows drawn tight. “We think they actually sent her.”
“What?” I repeated. “You’re kidding.”
“They think they’re helping,” Pope muttered.
I stared at them, trying to catch up. “Well, we have to get her out.”
“We know,” John B said. “We’re trying to figure out how.”
“It’s not that simple,” Pope added. “We don’t even know where—”
“I just got Rafe out of jail,” I snapped. “How hard could breaking someone out of some rich-kid rehab be?”
Silence fell, and I forgot this was still a touchy subject.
JJ turned his head sharply, looking off into the distance like he’d heard something only he could understand. I could’ve sworn I saw him shake his head, just once.
John B cleared his throat. “You’re right,” he said, voice careful. “You’re… surprisingly skilled in that department.”
I shot him a look, but he just shrugged. It was the closest thing to a compliment I’d gotten in weeks.
“I’m in,” I said. “Whatever the plan is.”
John B looked at JJ. “We need you back in two hours. Plane leaves then.”
It clicked, and my stomach flipped. Me and JJ, breaking Kiara out—together. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to do that. JJ didn’t respond, just clenched his jaw, and it pissed me off.
He couldn’t even look at me.
Sarah stepped forward, her voice cutting clean through the tension. “I’ll go.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What?” John B blinked.
“I’ll go with Brooke,” she said, like it was obvious. “Two concerned girls showing up? It won’t raise suspicion. And we know how to talk to Kiara. We can get her out.”
There was something pointed in her voice—directed at JJ, even though she didn’t say his name. But his eyes flicked up anyway. I looked between my brother and Sarah, and John B didn’t exactly look the most pleased by this plan. But God, I would rather Sarah than JJ.
John B looked like he was about to protest. “Sarah—”
“She’ll be fine,” I said quickly. “We both will.”
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “You sure?”
“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”
After a second, he nodded. Stepped in and gave me a quick hug, his arms tightening around me like he needed to remember it. Then turned to Sarah and kissed her hard and fast.
As Sarah and I started walking off, Cleo suddenly shouted from behind us.
“Hold on,” she said. “You really think you’re leaving me here with the men?”
We turned. She raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips. “You better believe I’m coming.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I threw an arm around her. “Let’s go save our girl.”
And just like that—we were off. Three girls. A busted plan. And more history behind us than anyone dared say out loud.
But for now… all that mattered was getting Kiara back.
━━━
The door creaked shut behind me.
I held my breath, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dim flicker of the hallway lights above the bunks. It was later than we’d planned—later than we should’ve come. But we were here. Finally. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me, making my hands tremble slightly even though I kept them tight at my sides.
Cleo and Sarah had split off already, slipping into the bathroom near the back of the cabin like shadows. I stayed pressed against the far wall, listening to the silence, watching the still shapes in their beds. No one stirred. The only sounds were soft exhales, the rustle of a blanket shifting somewhere to my right, and the faintest thud as one of the stall doors clicked shut.
Kiara. Please, please be here.
I couldn’t see her—not yet—but I knew the plan. Kiara always went to the bathroom before she fell asleep. Always checked her reflection one last time, even if it was just to pull a flyaway hair into place or smear moisturizer on her cheek. We were counting on her habits being the same. Even locked up, even here, even when everything else had gone to hell.
I shifted, inching along the wall as quietly as I could, until I reached the edge of the door that led to the bunkroom. The bathroom light flicked off.
Moments later, I heard the softest creak of the bathroom door open, then close.
A whisper of footsteps on the tile. A pause. Then a sharp inhale.
It worked.
My heart caught in my throat as I saw a shadow move across the room. She was holding something. A slip of paper. Her head turned left, right. She hadn’t seen me yet.
“Brooke?” Her voice cracked, hushed and disbelieving.
I stepped fully into the room, barely able to see her in the dark, but I didn’t need to. I knew her voice like I knew my own. “Hey,” I whispered, the word trembling in my mouth. “Hey, Kie.”
She rushed to me before I could blink.
Her arms flung around me, and I swear I almost collapsed from the force of it. Her grip was tight—desperate—and I wrapped my arms around her just as tight, burying my face in her shoulder.
“I knew it,” Kiara whispered, her voice cracking. “I fucking knew it. I hoped it would be you.”
My eyes burned. I didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not when I needed to be quiet. But her voice, the way it broke—it shattered something inside me.
“Sarah and Cleo are outside,” I whispered against her, my hand brushing through her hair. “We’re all here.”
Her whole body seemed to shudder with relief. “You okay?” I asked.
“No,” she admitted with a shaky laugh. “But I am now.”
We stayed there like that for a second longer. We clung to one another in the dark, in some godforsaken facility that tried to break her. I could feel how tired she was. How raw. And I knew if we didn’t get out soon, she’d unravel completely.
“Come on,” I murmured, pulling back. “We gotta move.”
She nodded, swiping a tear from her cheek. We crept back through the shadows, Kiara following behind me. When we reached the back exit, Cleo and Sarah were already waiting in the trees, crouched behind a crooked wooden post near the fence.
Kiara exhaled a soft, surprised breath. Then, without hesitation, she launched herself toward Sarah. Sarah caught her mid-hug, almost falling back from the force of it. “Holy shit,” Sarah breathed. “You’re okay.”
“Are you kidding?” Kiara laughed through tears. “You guys came. You actually came.”
“We weren’t gonna leave you here,” Cleo said softly, stepping in and wrapping her arms around them both.
And I just stood there for a second, watching the three of them. My girls. For a second, it almost felt like none of this had happened.
“Okay,” I said after a beat, pulling them back to reality. “We can cry after we break the fuck out.”
Kiara looked at me with a grin I hadn’t seen in months. “Lead the way, Routledge.”
We slipped past the trees, quiet as ghosts. The night air was thick, humid, but we didn’t care. Sarah took point, her fingers brushing the fence until she found the cut they made earlier. Cleo followed, holding Kiara’s hand, and I followed at the back, glancing back only once.
The cabin still stood there behind us, but we had her.
She was safe.
━━━
I gripped the steering wheel with both hands. We had Kiara, and I had my girls, but my heart still pounded. The road ahead was empty, but I kept pushing faster, foot heavy on the gas pedal. We just had to make it back.
Sarah was curled up in the passenger seat beside me, legs pulled up on the seat, her phone glowing dim as she typed out a message. "Texted John B," she said quietly. "Told him we’ve got her. He’s losing his mind."
A shaky breath escaped me before I could stop it. “Good.”
Behind us, the back of the van had Kiara curled into Cleo’s side. Her hair was messier than usual, her hoodie too big and sleeves bunched in her fists, but her eyes were soft and wide, glittering with unshed tears she was too proud to cry. Cleo, ever the solid one, just had an arm looped around her without saying much.
“Hey,” Kiara’s voice broke through the silence.. “I missed you guys.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, eyes locked on the road. “We missed you more.”
She laughed, a little choked. “Bullshit.”
Sarah twisted in her seat to look at her. “No. She’s right. You have no idea how empty it’s been without you.”
It was quiet for a moment, just the hum of the wheels on asphalt and the sound of wind sneaking through the cracks in the old van. Then Kiara added, “Thank you… for coming.”
“You kidding?” I said, flicking my eyes to the mirror to catch her gaze. “I would’ve burned the place down if they hadn’t let us get to you.”
That got a laugh out of all three of them. Light and small and messy, but real.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t pretending. These were my girls. And God, I missed this.
It wasn’t long before the conversations started unraveling. Cleo asked Kiara something about the food in the camp, which led to a five-minute rant on dry pancakes and cult-like practices. We all laughed. Sarah tossed in a comment about the shirts the staff were wearing. It was dumb and chaotic and everything I didn’t realize I’d been needing.
Then Cleo turned to me. “So… are you gonna tell us what’s really been going on?”
I hesitated. My hands tensed on the steering wheel. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she said gently, “we haven’t seen you much. Apparently you broke a boy out of jail. I kind of want to hear about it.”
My heart knocked hard in my chest. Sarah was watching me now too. Even Kiara. I felt the air tighten around me like plastic wrap.
“I—” I started, then paused. “I don’t even know where to start.”
She raised her brows. “Are you guys... together?”
My fingers flexed. “Not officially. But… yeah. I guess we are. It’s unofficial-official.”
Kiara made a noise under her breath, something between a grunt and a groan. Sarah shot her a look.
“Sorry,” Kiara muttered. “Old habits.”
“I get it,” I said quietly. “I’m not expecting everyone to be thrilled about it.”
Cleo blinked. “Wait. That’s the boy?”
“Yeah.” I met her eyes in the rearview. “Rafe.”
Cleo leaned back slowly, looking between Kiara and Sarah. “And I thought I had complicated taste.”
I actually laughed. A short, startled sound. “Yeah, well. Try living in it.”
Sarah turned toward me again, resting her chin on her knee. “Do you love him?”
I didn’t answer right away. It was so quiet you could hear the slight rattle of the actual car.
“Of course I do,” I finally said. Then I laughed, but it was softer this time. Sadder. “God, of course I do.”
Cleo smiled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I don’t know if it’s good or bad,” I said. “I just know it’s real. Even if I can’t say it.”
Sarah nudged me gently with her elbow. “What’s stopping you from saying it?”
I went still. My eyes stayed on the road, but my whole body tensed. “I… can’t.”
Kiara leaned forward now. “You mean like… you haven’t said it to him?”
“No. He says it all the time. Like it’s nothing. Like it’s easy.” I paused. “But every time I try, I—can’t. The words just… won’t come.”
“Why not?” Sarah asked gently.
My throat burned. “Because when we first broke up, he told me he never loved me. That all of it meant nothing to him. That I meant nothing.”
The silence that followed was so loud it buzzed in my ears.
“I think…” I swallowed. “I think some part of me still believes that. Like… if I let myself feel it again, and say it, and be all-in, and he does that again—I don’t think I’d come back from it this time.”
I was shaking now. My hands, my voice, my heart.
Sarah reached over and placed a hand on mine. “You’re allowed to be scared, B.”
Kiara added, “But you’re also allowed to start over.”
“I’m still…” I took a breath. “I’m still getting used to him touching me.”
That part came out so soft I almost didn’t recognize my own voice.
“The night I was—” I stopped. “The night it happened. That still hasn’t left me. I get jumpy sometimes. With him. And I hate that I do.”
“Oh, Brooke…” Sarah’s voice cracked.
Kiara leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the seat to hug me from behind. Cleo did the same from the far side, her hand resting on my shoulder.
“I didn’t know how to talk about it,” I whispered. “I thought you’d all hate me. Or judge me. I thought I’d ruined everything.”
“You didn’t,” Sarah said firmly. “You haven’t ruined anything.”
“I’m still scared,” I admitted. “Of everything. Of him. Of myself. But I’m trying.”
They didn’t say anything for a moment. Just sat there, holding on.
Then Sarah whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”
Kiara squeezed my arm. “I’m glad it was you who came for me.”
Cleo leaned in. “Me too. You’re stronger than you think.”
And suddenly, the weight that had been crushing my chest for months cracked, and the words spilled out of me before I could stop them.
“I missed you guys.”
I turned, looking at all three of them. “You have no idea how much.”
Tears welled in Sarah’s eyes. “We missed you more.”
━━━
The Twinkie screeched to a halt just before the plane came into view, headlights casting jagged shadows across the tarmac. My heart was thudding so loud I could barely hear the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. We didn’t even put the van in park before we were tumbling out—me, Sarah, Cleo, and Kiara.
The boys came into view.
John B was already pacing by the plane, his hand running through his hair. Pope looked skeptical. JJ was standing off to the side, kicking a rock. His head jerked up when he saw me, but I didn’t have time to process the way he looked at me.
“We got her!” Sarah shouted. “We got her!”
John B stopped pacing, his eyes wide, caught between relief and panic. “Fuck, thank god. We need to leave like… now.”
But that was when I heard it. A distant, low rumble, growing louder.
I froze, turning just as the growl of a motorcycle cut through the air. My stomach dropped. I didn’t even need to see his face to know who it was.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, already preparing myself for the worst.
Cleo’s brow furrowed. “Who the hell is that?”
The bike screeched to a stop in front of the plane, and I felt every nerve in my body snap into attention.
“No,” Kiara whispered.
But it was him. Rafe. Covered in blood. Slumped over behind him, clinging weakly to his body, was Ward Cameron.
What the actual fuck?
I felt the world tilt. My pulse roared in my ears as Ward fell off the bike, crumpling to the ground. Rafe dropped with him, trying to hold him up, blood streaking his hands and arms.
“Help! Don’t just stand there!” Rafe barked, eyes wide. “Come on, I need help—someone fucking help me!”
Nobody moved, the air thick with shock, until Sarah did. She rushed to Rafe’s side, grabbing Ward under the arms, helping hoist him up. “Sarah—” John B tried to stop her, btu she was already moving.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My legs were rooted to the ground. Because at that moment, I didn’t know what to do. Who to choose. I hated Ward. Hated him for what he did to my family. But Rafe—Rafe was clutching his father like a boy begging the world not to take away what little he had left.
They dragged him onto the plane, and that’s when I heard JJ’s voice. “You call him?”
I blinked, whipping my head toward him. “What?”
“You called him, didn’t you?”
“No!” My voice came out sharper than I meant. “I didn’t call him, JJ.”
He scoffed, like he didn’t believe me. “Right. Of course.”
“What the hell is your fucking issue?”
John B stepped in before it could escalate. “Not now,” he snapped, eyes flickering to the plane. “We don’t have time for this.”
I started pacing, my hands raking through my hair. “What the fuck is going on? How does Ward look like that? What happened?”
Sarah was stepping off the plane again, wiping her hands on her pants, visibly shaken. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I don’t know.”
“‘Don’t worry’,” Cleo added, reiterating what Sarah promised, “‘He’s not coming, right?’”
Sarah hesitated, looking guilty. “He wasn’t supposed to.”
I looked back toward the plane, hearing Rafe’s muffled voice and Ward’s weak groaning. “What the fuck is happening right now?” JJ muttered.
Sarah turned to us all. “Look, if he stays on this island, he gets arrested. He won’t survive it. This is the only option.”
John B was pacing now, same as me. “You don’t understand. I can’t—I can’t get on a plane with that guy.”
“You’re not understanding me,” Sarah snapped, her voice rising for the first time. “This is his plane. I can’t stop him from leaving.”
“You could,” JJ challenged.
“No, she can’t,” I cut in before it could spiral. I looked at him, something flickering between us. “You know she can’t.”
JJ’s jaw clenched. “Right.”
Sarah’s voice softened again. “But he’s still giving us a ride to Orinoco. So… if you don’t wanna get on the plane, I get it. We’ll find another way.”
“There is no other way,” John B said finally. That hit harder than I expected. Because I was going to get on the plane no matter what. But the moment he said it, like the decision was made for all of us, it made something twist in my gut.
Pope frowned. “With them? Seriously?”
Rafe stepped out onto the metal steps of the plane, his hands and shirt covered in patches of blood. His expression was unreadable, and I didn’t know what to think. He didn’t look at me. Instead, he locked eyes with Sarah. “Take care of him,” he said roughly.
Then he turned to walk down the steps, brushing past JJ.
JJ bumped his shoulder. “What? No goodbye kiss?”
Rafe stopped. His fists clenched.
“JJ,” I said, loud and clear. “Rafe.”
Both of them froze.
JJ glared at him one more second… then shoved past and stalked up the stairs into the plane. Rafe’s eyes finally met mine. Just for a second.
“Brooke.”
I turned just as Rafe reached me, chest rising and falling. His jaw was tight. His eyes flicked between me and the plane, between my face and the stairs.
“What the hell happened?” I asked, voice low, trying not to let it crack. “Your hands—Rafe, you’re—”
“I can’t explain right now.” He cut me off, voice strained, shaky. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, smearing dried blood across his cheek. “Later, okay? Just—just come on.”
But I didn’t move. John B was yelling again behind me. JJ was already halfway up the stairs. I saw Sarah throw me a glance from inside the doorway, her eyes silently pleading: We have to go.
I stepped back slightly. Just enough. Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go.”
His head jerked like he didn’t hear me right. “What?”
“I’m going with them,” I said, slower this time. Softer. Like it would hurt less if I didn’t say it like a punch.
His face twisted. “No,” he said immediately. “No, you’re not.”
I tried to breathe. “Rafe—”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” His voice rose, even though he took a step toward me like he couldn’t stand the distance. “I haven’t heard from you since this morning and now you show up here and say this shit?”
I sighed but didn’t back down. “I didn’t have time. Everything moved fast. We were getting Kiara out—”
“You said you were done with this.” His voice cracked, fury and desperation bleeding together. “You said you were out.”
“I thought I was.”
“Brooke,” he said, almost disappointed.
I looked away. Ran my hand through my hair, trying to push it out of my eyes, trying to find oxygen that didn’t feel so sharp in my lungs. “I’m not doing this to hurt you.”
“You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed,” he growled. “That’s what you’re gonna do.”
“I won’t—”
“You will,” he barked, fists clenched, “because that’s what happens when you keep throwing yourself into this shit! These people are dangerous. You don’t know what’s waiting out there.”
“Neither do you.”
He stared at me, hard, and then softer. “I can’t do this again,” he said quietly. “I can’t…watch you disappear again. Not knowing if you’re gonna come back. Not knowing if you’re okay. I can’t.”
John B’s voice called behind me again. “Brooke, now!”
I winced.
Rafe stepped forward, close enough to touch. “Please. Don’t get on that plane.”
I stared up at him, and I stepped into him instead.
I wrapped my arms around his torso, careful not to press where blood still stained his shirt, careful not to say too much. He hesitated just a second—but then his arms crushed around me, like he was going to make me stay.
His chin dipped to my hair. “You’re not safe with them,” he whispered.
“I’ll be okay,” I said softly, even though I wasn’t sure.
“I don’t believe you.”
I let my eyes close, let myself feel his heart hammering through his ribs. “I need to go.”
His hand came up to the back of my head. “No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
He didn’t let go. I pulled back, just enough to look at him—and he kissed me. Hard.
His mouth crashed into mine, all blood and sweat and panic. His hands cradled my face, desperate for something I don’t exactly know he’s searching for. He kissed me like he needed to feel something real. Like he needed me.
My hands fisted in his shirt. His mouth bruised mine, desperate, aching, a goodbye wrapped in fury. We didn’t come up for air until I heard John B shout again.
I broke the kiss.
He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, jaw locked, throat working like he wanted to scream or cry or maybe both.
I turned and started toward the stairs.
“Wait.”
I turned, and there he was—his chest rising too fast, his eyes wild like he’d just made the dumbest decision of his life and knew it but couldn’t stop himself anyway. He was already moving toward the stairs before I could say anything.
“No, fuck this,” he said breathlessly, climbing. “I’m coming with you.”
It didn’t feel real. I just blinked at him. Behind me, Pope let out a scoff. JJ made a sound too. A half bitter laugh, half annoyed grunt. His head already shaking like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Oh, come on,” JJ muttered.
“Rafe—” I tried, stepping forward toward the stairs. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” His voice was rough, but there was something beneath it. Something softer. “I need to.”
“Rafe—”
“I need to be there,” he said again, louder this time, like he was trying to convince all of us at once. “I need to take care of my dad. And I need to take care of you.” His eyes landed on mine, and suddenly everything was very quiet inside me. “Like I promised.”
My breath caught. Not because of what he said, but how he said it. Like it was the only truth he had left. For a second, he was that boy again, not the liar, not the killer, just the one who held me earlier and who I’ve imagined running away with.
John B stepped out from inside the plane, his expression hardening the second he saw Rafe halfway up the stairs. I felt his gaze flicker to me. The disappointment hit me like a slap, but he didn’t say anything. For the first time, he didn’t say anything.
But JJ? JJ stood up with fists clenched at his sides. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. You think we’re supposed to trust this shit now? With him and Ward on the plane?”
“JJ, don’t—” I started.
“No, seriously.” JJ glared at all of us. “Am I the only one seeing how insane this is?”
“I’m not doing this for you,” Rafe snapped, his jaw already locking. “I’m not doing this for any of you.”
JJ laughed without humor. “Yeah, no shit. You’re not exactly loyal to us.”
“I’m loyal to her.” Rafe turned, pointing directly at me. “That’s it. That’s the only reason I’m here.”
Silence dropped like a bomb, and my heart was pounding. My heart thudded once, twice, too loud in my chest.
JJ looked between us. His eyes were on fire. “Oh, now he’s noble? That’s what we’re doing now? He gives a shit, so we just let him on board?”
“JJ—”
“You think we can’t protect her?” JJ said, taking a step forward.
Rafe’s expression hardened. “No. I think you’ve failed at it. Over and over.”
JJ lunged, but Rafe threw the first punch. Their fists collided, and there was only a few sounds of hits and Sarah and Kiara’s attempts to stop it before John B moved fast, pulling JJ back.
“ENOUGH!” I screamed. “Jesus Christ!” I shouted. “Can you two just shut the fuck up for one second?”
JJ’s mouth slammed shut, and Rafe didn’t speak either. I looked between them, my entire body shaking. “I don’t need any of you yelling at each other like I’m not standing right here. I don’t need you deciding who protects me. This isn’t about that. It’s about getting the hell off this island and making it out alive.”
My voice wobbled, but I didn’t care. “Every person on this plane is coming, and whether we like it or not, we don’t have time to argue. So unless you want this whole thing to go to shit before we even leave the tarmac, I suggest you both stop acting like goddamn idiots.”
JJ sank back into his seat like he’d been shoved, jaw tight, eyes glaring at the floor. Rafe didn’t move. Just stood there, chest heaving. But he didn’t speak again.
John B finally broke the silence. “Let’s fly.”