Rogue Wave | Rafe Cameron

8

"What you up to, K?" A laughter from the backseat found my ears, and I scoffed.

"You obsessed with me or something, Rafe? You've been up my ass lately."

Again, laughter from Topper and Kelce came, probably pissing off Rafe but I honestly didn't care. Fighting with rafe, I only saw him and didn't care about anything else.

"Oh, woah now, don't get too ahead of yourself, Pogue," he said in a demeaning tone, "I'm just on the neighborhood watch, making sure no pogues steal stuff, y'know. You can never be too sure."

He held a beer bottle in his right hand, letting his arm rest against the door to hang out the window.

"Really funny, Rafe. Don't you have other things to do?" I paused, contemplating before I finally decided to insult him, "Like, I dunno, come up with the money you keep baiting your dad for?"

This must've really pissed him off, because he reached to open the door, before Topper locked it.

"What the hell, dude?"

"Leave her alone, she's trash anyways," Topper claimed, as Rafe glared at him.

In an instant, the car revved, screeching against the asphalt and shooting a cloud of dust in my direction before driving away.

—

Showing up the next day, I had managed to convince my boss it was all a messy mistake and he thankfully understood.

The golf course was busier now that summer had hit its absolute peak, and the sun was out more than ever. Kooks crowded all around, joining each other over drinks and playing. That's what sucked the most about this job, watching people live their life with no worries and daily allowances that could fix all my life's problems.

No one more than Rafe, who likely had little worries in regard to money and privilege. What I would do to take a shower in a bathroom with proper water pressure and actual clean water.

"'Kay, that was pretty average, Topper. You good, bro?" Rafe called out, smirking and chewing on a piece of gum.

"Hey, Khalia, some drinks would be good right now, huh?" Rafe spoke in my direction, while I had been in the middle of folding back some of the lawn chairs and gathering them.

"Yo, Rafe, some manners would be good right now, huh?" I quirked an eyebrow, playing his game was the only way to get the asshole off of me.

He let his tongue roll over the inside of his cheek, laughing dryly and twirling the club in his hand. "Man, you grew some balls overnight, huh? I don't really remember that being there yesterday, huh Topper?" He looked behind himself, to meet Topper who seemed thrown off by his involvement in our conversation.

I rolled my eyes, going back around the building to fetch whatever would shut Rafe the hell up.

When I came back outside, I saw Rafe far away from the course and it seemed he was in the middle of an argument with some guy in a red shirt. Things got intense, as the guy in red got closer to Rafe and I could only draw out a few words about money and being late.

Was it my business? No, not at all, but I had his drink in my hand and I honestly didn't want to keep holding it, instead of actually doing my job.

"Rafe?" I began walking toward them, obviously interrupting something, as both of the men turned in my direction. The guy in red looked at me with a mixed look of confusion and amusement, "Yo, country club, who's this? Your girl?"

Rafe dismissed me, turning back to the other man and continuing an argument that I couldn't quite hear. After a few back and forth rebuttals, I learned the man's name was Barry, a name I had heard circulated around the cut before.

"Just give me three more days, man."

"Nah, I already gave you enough. Bike's mine, bro," Barry seemed offended, and Rafe looked like he was teetering on the line between nervousness and frustration.

"Look, three days, that's all I ask, man."

Barry grabbed Rafe, pulling him outside of the Island Club and leading him to his bike, where It was parked conveniently right alongside the fence of the property.

I watched as Barry gripped Rafe by his collar, immediately jumping into a state of concern, despite me and Rafe's differences. "Hey, stop."

"Come on, man, listen to the girl," Rafe said, looking absolutely scared shitless and it made me wonder just how extreme this guy could get, if Rafe of all people feared him.

"You ain't got my money, but you got all," Barry gestured towards the bike, "this nice shit, huh?"

"Man, yeah, just..." Rafe mumbled, likely internally contemplating a way out of this situation.

"Hm?" Barry asked, "Come here."

Swiftly, Barry took Rafe's arm and held it against the heated metal of the bike, causing me to cringe and drop the drink in shock.

"Hey, shit, man. Stop! Stop!"

A sickening sizzle followed, prompting me to finally move forward, "Yo, stop, you're hurting him!"

"That's it, you little bitch." Barry laughed menacingly, a strand of hair covering a portion of his face, as he gripped Rafe's arm even harder.

I walked closer, standing over the shoulder of Barry, who had failed to remember my presence, or any of the other's at the Island Club,  "Dude, that's enough. I think he gets the point."

Barry ignored me, "Consider that shit your down payment. You got three days, country club."

He walked away, leaving me standing above Rafe, who was groaning in pain.

I held my arm out to him, "you okay?"

He said nothing, using his free hand to push himself up off the ground. "Ow, fuck," he winced, grabbing his arm and I inched closer to get a better look.

"Shit, dude, come here." In a pained trance, Rafe was likely willing to set his pride aside for a second and he stepped closer, practically handing me his arm. "That's pretty fucking bad, let me patch it up."

"It's fine." Rafe grumbled, pulling his arm back closer to himself and attempting to place his helmet in his hands. "Shit."

"Let me help." I said seriously, meeting his eyes and taking the helmet off his hands. "I don't like you, but I'm not an asshole, Rafe."

"Fine, whatever, get it the fuck over with."