THIRTY - TWO
❝Poster Child.❞
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"You know what I think we should do?"
Ward Cameron stood tall in the middle of his accred lawn, narrowing his stare in on the eldest Cameron, his only son. "What Rafe? Tell me, please." A growing smile etched on the tanned boys face, his jaw clenching at the root of the cause.
"Tell me, Rafe. What's you're great idea." The eldest Cameron stood before his father, pale coloured bruises tainting over his flushed skin.
"I think we should kill them all."
Ward Cameron, a man of many words, left completely and utterly speechless. Eyes remained glued to his son, the boy fumbling over his own words as his slender fingers trembled at his sides.
"Why is that, son?" Richard Martin, the silent partner to Ward Cameron, resting his hand down firmly on the younger boy's shoulder, making himself known. "Because." Rafe let out a chorus of dry laughter, curling his fingers into the palm of his hands.
"Look at what they've done to us. To our families." The Cameron boy spat, his eyes narrowing in on Richard Martin, not cowering back at his longing stare. "They took Ophelia." Rafe stated. "They took my Ophelia."
The entirety of the walk back had been silent. John B hadn't thought of the right thing to say, and Ophelia simply didn't want to say anything at all. She despised John B for many reasons, one being the reason she was walking along side him in this very moment, the warm summer breeze of Nassau suddenly causing Ophelia to hate all things she once loved.
"We won't talk about it." John B hushed quietly, The Fairmont in eyeshot view, though Ophelia simply let her eyes roll back into her head, kicking at the stray rocks lingering over the pavement. "You didn't run, I didn't go looking for the gold."
Ophelia smiled lightly, her eyes narrowing in on the Pogue who's lips remained pursed in a thin line, his jaw clenched and neck flushed red showing Ophelia, she was the one who held all the power.
"Well, pretty boy. What are you waiting for? Go get her." John B turned to give Ophelia a questioning look, her eyes shut as the warm sun cascaded over her already tanned complexion, arms folding over her chest.
"Don't worry. I have no where to go."
Fact of the matter was, Ophelia was helpless. Stranded on a well known island with a wanted fugitive and ex-best friend wasn't necessarily on Ophelia Martin's To Do List, Although, upon hearing the soft waves clattering against the shore, it made her think of the only person who made her feel like the ocean.
Open and endless, with so much ahead.
It was almost as if Ophelia was back with Rafe, in the Outer Banks, where she belonged. For a moment, everything was perfect, though reality had snapped Ophelia out of her trance, and upon coming to her current state she was to remind herself that nothing was perfect - not even the man she loved.
Yesterday, as early as five minutes ago, if you were to say John B Routledge was held at knife point, Ophelia wouldn't bat an eye, instead would look the other way as if she hadn't heard a thing. Currently, she feared for her life, knowing here and now, he was the only thing keeping her safe.
He didn't have a choice - not if he wanted a chance at being written off Rafe Cameron's hit list.
"Shh." John B's trembling finger pressed up against his lips, his eyes meeting Ophelia's across the way, who peered around the tall standing statue, slender fingers curling around the white coloured clay, watching the scene before her unfold.
Part of Ophelia was ready to let John B disappear, taking it as the only chance for her to run. That, was not who Ophelia was. Despite it all, the Pogue who had followed her the night prior, had been so willing to let Ophelia be free.
That was the person she knew she had to help.
Ophelia's back pressed up firmly against the side of the Fairmont, ignoring the burning stares of passerby's who took in her torn and stained outfit, she took the chance to sneak up behind the women who held hold of John B, only to be caught in the act.
John B's gaze locked with Ophelia, motioning for her to stay put, which lead to her doing the exact opposite. Ophelia Martin hated authority, though funny how the man she fell for loved to be in control.
It was then Ophelia's wrist was stopped mid air, the blade of the knife that was once held to John B digging it's way into the girl's tanned and exposed stomach, breath hitching in her throat as she inhaled sharply.
"Don't move a muscle." The women spoke lowly, keeping her hold on the fugitive as she shoved Ophelia forwards, trialing behind her closely. "You're coming with me."
Slumped in the back seat, sweat beading down every inch of Ophelia's tanned skin, she felt completely and utterly hopeless, her eyes glued to her lap as she tore away at the skin of her fingernails.
"They say you killed a cop." Ophelia's eyes adverted upwards, the once stomach churning feeling in the pits of her stomach growing numb. Ophelia hadn't felt a thing, not since she was torn away from Rafe.
"That true?" Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, John B met the stare of Ophelia through the rearview mirror, bloodshot eyes lingering with guilt - though it had nothing to do with John B. "No." Was his only response, tearing his eyes away from Ophelia.
"They told me you were a killer. I was about to be afraid." Ophelia smiled lightly. "He's no killer." Her fragile voice spoke from the back, capturing the attention of the women who had her held hostage.
"Funny, I recognize you." Ophelia's brows furred. "Not from the boat." Cleo shook her head furiously, every so often stealing glances back at the olive skinned girl, dark curls blowing with the wind. "Beautiful. Like the girl's on posters."
Ophelia hadn't put much thought into the women's words. Eyes falling short of the moving vehicle and off into the distance, Ophelia was torn away from paradise outside the window, a single crumbled white paper being shoved back in her face.
John B turned with a puzzled expression, only further more confused when Ophelia's face grew pale, her tired eyes growing wide. "Ophelia?" John B questioned lightly, only to be cut off by the soft sobs leaving Ophelia's lips.
She was crying, though her lips curled upwards, silent laughter leaving her mouth.
"What is it?" Ophelia was at a loss for words, fingers trembling along side the battered paper, one she swore to never let go of. "I told you." Ophelia cried softly. "He's coming for me." Flushed cheeks grew with Ophelia's smile, her heart becoming whole again. "I told you, John B."
Held in her trembling hands, a missing persons poster, one that she was sure was making it's way around Nassau, and surely, the Outer Banks. "Rafe's coming for me."
MISSING PERSONS
OPHELIA JANE MARTIN
AGE: 19 HEIGHT: 5'3 WEIGHT: 147 LBS
REWARD: $500, 000. 00
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Author's Note
Ahh! I am so excited to write this season.
I am in a bit of a slump, so I hope you have enjoyed the past two chapters.
What do you think will happen with Rafe and Ophelia?
Bare with me, they will reunite very very soon! I'm not trying to rush into it, although I don't want to waste too much time on the scenes where Ophelia and Rafe are apart, as there is so much to unpack and dive into when they are together.
It's been brought to my attention of another Rafe fic, and if you know me, I have a hard time turning that down. I absolutely love writing about our favourite OBX Character. Therefore, if you would like another, please message/comment ideas/story line!
Feel free to give me ideas/what you would like to see happen in this story.
Thank you all for the support. There is no fandom better than you. I love you all.