Chapter Text
“Hey, Barry?” I say, eyebrows cocked in a dare.
“What, pretty boy?” I could fucking smack the smug look off his face. The bastard got dirt on me and started believing that somehow that put him in the same league as me, which is incredibly far from the truth. Barry was scum. I just do what I have to to survive. I mean, that’s not to say I don’t enjoy the violence, because that would be a lie.
“Shut the fuck up before I make you eat those words,” I snarl at him, lip curled in a fury. The idea that I’m even here is insulting. The air in Barry’s trailer was thick with body odor and the faint smell of whatever weed he had stashed in the box on the scratched coffee table in front of him. He was in a ragged tank top that looked like it had been much too long since the last time it was washed, mousy brown hair tied at the nape of his neck, frizzy and sticking close to his head with grease.
I felt fucking disgusting even being in here. Typically I avoided it at all costs, but I was out of fucking options at the moment, thanks to my father’s inability to keep his hands clean and insistence on dragging me right to the center of it. Kook dealers wouldn’t sell to me after my dad’s legal trouble. They thought I was a liability.
“Pretty boy, don’t you forget that I got dirt on your squeaky-clean frat boy ass,” he taunted with a stupid laugh. His teeth were yellowed and probably hadn’t seen toothpaste in days.
I felt like the grime was sticking to me, clinging to my skin. I was meticulous in my hygiene, almost to an alarming level. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here and shower. Shit, I’d probably have to take three to feel clean again.
“Barry, you don’t fucking scare me, man,” I scoffed. “You’re a pest in my life.”
He glared, scratching roughly at his armpit and then offhandedly sniffing it like I wouldn’t notice. My stomach roiled, nauseated by quite literally everything about him.
“Yeah, yeah, pretty boy,” he growled. “Just get me my fucking money.”
I rolled my eyes at him, handing him a folded stack of bills from inside my pants pocket. He unfolded the cash, counting it with a fiendish grin on his face. Apparently satisfied, he rifled in the small case in front of him, tossing me a small white bag of powder. I catch it easily, shoving it deep into my pockets, the relief of having it in my possession again a heavy weight lifted off my shoulders.
“Pleasure doing business,” Barry grins, sucking in a breath before launching into a coughing fit, not covering his mouth and sticking out his tongue like a little kid who hadn’t learned to control their body yet.
Disgusted, I shake my head and turn to leave the mobile home without even acknowledging him. I make it halfway to the door before he squawks out, “I’ll need the rest soon, pretty boy. Don’t stray too far. Wouldn’t want to have to come find you.” I lift my hand up, not even looking back, and flip him off before roughly shouldering his door open before pulling my keys from my pants pocket and unlocking my hulking silver truck, shining in the late summer sun.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled with the beginnings of sweat, and I mumbled under my breath, pulling my body up and into the truck. Situated with the door closed and hidden from view by my tinted windows, I fumble in my pocket, fetching the packet of cocaine.
I almost moaned at the sight of it, feening for the familiar burn in my nose. Using my keys, I gather a small pile of the drug and harshly inhale it through my nose, the burn almost making my eyes water as I blink fiercely.
I close my eyes, sighing and slumping back in my seat, allowing the effects to settle over me, making me feel more alert and alive. Most of my time these days was spent in a zombie state, going through the motions and trying to just make it to the next.
Pulling through the street in front of The Wreck, I park in the parking lot, hopping out of the car and into the coastal restaurant to meet Marren inside. She and I had been on a few dates recently, and while she was definitely fucking annoying, she was hot.
I run a hand through my dark blonde hair, mussing it slightly in a way I knew typically brought that dopey look to women’s eyes. I wiped my nose on the collar of my shirt, ensuring there was no residual coke lingering on my skin. Not that I particularly gave a shit what Marren thought anyway.
I found her at a corner table, blonde hair pulled into a tousled high ponytail and lips lined bright red. She was in a skimpy red sundress, one I knew she’d probably spent a ridiculous amount of time picking out and thinking about what my reaction would be to it. I decided not to allow her the satisfaction of my approval. It was sad that she needed it, anyway.
I knew I was an asshole. I’d never pretended to be anything else. Marren knew as well as I did that I didn’t give a shit about whatever it was between us, but she couldn’t stop herself from trying to change my mind. I wanted to shake her and tell her to wake up and be serious.
“Rafael!” She beamed at me, teeth almost freakishly white. It was obvious that Marren was just as particular about her appearance as I was, but the difference was that she confused overindulgence with perfection. She’d whiten her teeth until they fell out, never quite satisfied with whatever level of attractiveness she could obtain. It was sad. She was a beautiful girl, but you could never convince her of that, and it wasn’t my job to fix her.
Plus, she knew I hated when she called me that. I’d never gone by Rafael. I wasn’t sure why she even thought she had the privilege of calling me something different, as if it somehow made things between us more intimate.
“Marren,” I said, tone flat. I plopped down into the chair opposite her, stacking my menu at the edge of the table. It’d been years since I’d been here, but I still remembered the spread of options. It was one of the things that were engrained in my brain. My dad and I used to come here together after fishing trips when I was young, eating a seafood spread and telling me about who he believed I’d one day be. Too bad I’d failed to meet a single expectation he had for me. “Stop fucking calling me that.”
“You look nice,” she said, supple cheeks tinting pink. I looked her up and down, watching the way her skin tightened and she squirmed under my gaze. My eyes flicked up to her baby blues, one corner of my mouth tipping upwards in a wolfish grin. I’m sure I looked seconds from pouncing.
Not because I wanted her, but because the natural way she shied away from me activated some deep and dark depraved part of my brain that was turned on by feeling like a predator stalking its prey. If only she wasn’t so damn easy to catch.
“Thank you, baby,” I purred to her, watching the way the tint in her cheeks seemed to cover her whole body at my words. I really needed to break this off before I really hurt her. She deserved better than a guy like me. I hated that the darkness under my skin got off on how easily affected she was by me.
“Hey, guys! Can I get you anything to dri-” My eyes snapped up in an instant, my stomach dropping. My eyes locked on those hauntingly familiar caramel pools, traced along that prominent cupid's bow, and laved over the smoothness of her deep-toned skin. “No.” She was shaking her head quickly, stepping back from me and scratching at her arm, her pen and pad of paper clutched so tightly in her hands I could see the lack of blood flow to her knuckles.
“Hi, Kie,” I grinned, amusement seeping off me in waves. God, this was rich. Better than I could have dreamt up if I tried. Here was Kiara Carrera, the kook who ran with pogues. Shit, it had been years since I’d seen her, and she was even more enthralling than she was when we were kids.
After the debacle with the gold left us all almost dead, we’d struggled to find a semblance of normal that never came. We were all shells of people for a while, and there had been one night when the kook princess had tumbled into my arms for drunken comfort. It hadn’t ended well, but god I thought about that one night a lot more than I’d ever willingly admit to anyone.
We’d all gone off to college, Kie starting her own marine biology research team here in OBX and actually making quite a life for herself already, despite still being so young. I refused to be embarrassed about the fact that I’d kept such close tabs on her life, even from across states. I hadn’t seen her face since I was 19 and she was 18. I was 23 now, and seeing how she’d blossomed into herself heated something unfamiliar and out of order in my chest.
“Why are you here, Rafe?” She was pissed. It only made my grin grow wider and more taunting. It almost sent a shiver up my spine to see her so fiery over seeing me. I’d begun to think my influence had lost its hold on her, but here was explicit evidence that that was the furthest thing from the truth. If just looking at my face could still get her this riled up, I would give anything to see just how my cock could. I shifted in my seat, pants tightening.
“Can a man not grab a bite to eat?” I ask with a feigned shrug. Her eyes narrowed further. She suddenly seemed to register fully that I wasn’t sitting alone. She blinked, stuttering for a moment. I was fucking thrilled.
“Hi, I’m Marren,” my date smiled, polished lips pulling wide. “Are you an old friend of Rafael’s?” My hands twitched with the urge to cut off her air supply every time she used that fucking name.
Kie snorted loudly, smacking a hand over her mouth as if shocked that sound had come out before she could stop it. I raised a deadly eyebrow at her, watching the way her fear and amusement registered in her eyes as her mouth formed a thin line and she dropped her hands, regaining her composure.
“I am so sorry,” she said quietly, and I could hear from her voice that she was still fighting down her laughter. I itched with the urge to take her over my knee and see just how funny it’d be then. “No, we are not friends. Old enemies, more like. Glad to see you hadn’t snorted yourself through a pharmacy and wound up in rehab by now.”
“I’m sure you were, princess,” I murmured, barely audible. But I knew from the way her body language shifted that she understood me.
Marren’s jaw was hanging unhinged, apparently incredibly offended on my behalf.
“That is mighty rude of you,” Marren gasped. “I’m sure your boss would love to hear just how you’re speaking to paying customers.” God, she was fucking irritating. My skin prickled at her words and their implications. She, of course, had no inkling of a clue that this restaurant was Kie’s parents’. I was loathe to admit it may have been a defining decision in picking to eat here. I hadn’t expected to see her but had hoped I might. I had figured her marine biology studies kept her busy enough that she probably wouldn’t work here much anymore.
“Marren?” I asked sweetly, voice pure saccharine syrup poured all over her. Those bright eyes met mine, rounded at the corners. “Shut the fuck up.” Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, her mouth hanging open as she dramatically grasped for words.
“S-she- Rafe, she just called you some kind of addict. Does that not upset you?” Her voice was high-pitched and whiny, grating my eardrums with a metaphorical cheese grater. Just as she was on my patience.
I think she had a death wish because she turned back to Kiara again, not finished embarrassing herself apparently. I sighed, irritation tightening all the joints in my body and threatening to make me develop a twitch.
“I’ll have you know, Rafael graduated top of his class at Duke,” she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. “He is no addict, and I don’t like you insinuating he deals in that filth. My boyfriend is not yours to chastise.”
Boyfriend? Was she fucking dense?
Kie snagged her bottom lip between her teeth to keep herself from laughing. My eyes hooded as I watched, imagining it was my own teeth grazing across the soft flesh there. Except I’d be much less gentle with her.
“Clearly I was wrong, I apologize. I’m very glad you have a girlfriend who knows you so well, Rafe. She does know how much your dad donates to Duke, though, doesn’t she?” She was intentionally pushing my buttons, rousing Marren into a tizzy only an entertaining side quest. It was my anger she wanted. She’d never admit it, but she liked when I wasn’t gentle with her. Or at least, she had when she had panted my name over and over like a prayer, tangled in my limbs and sheets as I drove deep inside her.
“Rafael!” She huffed, gesturing to Kie as if asking me to handle her on Marren’s behalf. She was really not following the situation here well.
“C’mon, Kiara. Be a good girl and take our order before you give Marren a stroke,” I grinned. Kie’s cheeks blushed, blinking a few times at me before dropping her eyes back to her notepad, still tightly clutching her pen like it was a lifeline.
“Are you serious?!”
I ignored Marren’s shrill shriek and told Kie our order, watching the subtle way her hands shook as she quickly scribbled. She swallowed harshly, nodding and leaving the table without any more acknowledgment.
“Why did you not defend us?” She cried, tears welling in her eyes, bottom lip wobbling slightly. I wish she knew her tears affected me in a very different way than she’d intended them to. “Defend me?”
“You are not my girlfriend, Marren, and I’m not sure what about that has been confusing. If you can’t handle fucking me and also not acting stupid in public, then that is not my issue, baby.” She gasped at my words and the lack of emotion behind them. She growled, grabbing her hot pink purse from where it was hooked on her chair, and stomped out of the restaurant, shoes clacking obnoxiously. I hated the part of me that sighed in relief at her absence and the hope that I’d finally run her off.
Now to find Kiara.