𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

26. peachy.

"Pope!" Finally," Kie responds to the low rumble of dirt bikes speeding toward the garage.

Maybe Pope was stalling his appearance because of the thick, palpable tension between himself and Kiara. I'd kill some time, procrastinating for as long as possible.

A few seconds after the bike pulls up and the engine is killed a pair of footsteps head toward us.

A pair. Not one set.

I don't think Pope made a friend along the way.

"Hey, there. What's goin' on?" Rafe's voice fills the room, making the air go cold and my blood stop pumping around my body. He sounds so cocky, so confident, so smug, he has a certain deluded arrogance only men can obtain. He thinks he's so important to the world, that when he dies all hope will be lost – little does he know the world will be better when his heart finally stops and his body becomes cold and stiff.

"JJ," Rafe greets the blond boy with an equally bad temperament. He walks in through the rolled-up doors and stops in front of the boat, looking me in the eye with a smirk.

"Franny," he greets me simply and coldly. His eyes are empty, his pupils are blown, I swear I can see them from where I am a few metres away.

Rafe killed someone. He'd thrown around the threat carelessly, it was always something I took as an empty threat, "Franny, if you do that one more time I'm going to kill you", "Franny, you're walking a thin line, fall on the wrong side and I will kill you", "I'm serious, Franny, I'm going to snap one day and kill you", but the words I wrote off without thought don't feel as empty, it doesn't feel like a throwaway comment. He killed someone he didn't know, someone who hadn't done anything, someone he didn't hate.

No matter how many times he tells me he loves me, I know he doesn't mean it in the normal sense of the word. Rafe loves me when I play the part he wants, doting, loving, at his beck and call at all hours, ready to give him my body at the drop of a hat, to not make the mistakes that are involved in being human.

He hates me. I don't think he truly knows he does, but it's true. He hates me because I am an autonomous human, someone with feelings, and wants outside of being his pretty trophy.

The one word he uttered makes all the air get sucked out of the room. The two syllables send my body into a state of panicked shock. The short sentence throws me back into a whirlpool of memories I have tried so hard to forget; all the yelling, cruel remarks, screaming obscenities an inch from my face, gaslighting until I didn't know if up really was up, throwing anything he could get his hands on like be was a bowler in The Ashes. I've done my best in the past few weeks to move forward, not letting myself look in the rear-view mirror, become a better person – someone who will stand you for herself.

It makes me feel small. He somehow always makes me feel like a kid again, cowering away from my Dad's yelling.

I don't want to let myself be like my mother, suffering through men's cruelty because I didn't have the confidence to leave. I can't live like that.

The plan that was unfolding, one I had no input in creating, terrifies me. Graduate high school, get engaged soon after, move in together, married a year after engagement, a kid a year after that, then another and another until Rafe was content with the amount.

With my mind so fixated on Rafe, I don't even realise Barry is in tow until he speaks. "Well, well." The low-life, drug dealer, who likes groping underage girls slaps the back of the car with a gross smirk I think he is under the impression is sexy and mysterious.

With confident strides, JJ walks toward Barry. But all too quickly the dark-haired man pulls a gun out and holds it at an arm's length, pointing it at JJ. "See, don't think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I'm here because I want my motherfuckin' money,'' Barry shouts with unadulterated aggression.