With her arms laced tightly around Rafe's waist, she rested her chin on his protruding shoulder blade. He zigzagged along the backroads, knowing no island native took them at night. The moon had reached its full capacity and hung over them like a baby mobile dangling above a crib. Cassiopeia felt herself grow weak, and although her body was fighting it, her eyes succumbed to the burning sensation, and she fluttered them shut, leaning limp against the boy.
She awoke to Rafe yanking the brake lever back. Her nose smashed into his spine and she groaned in pain. She dug her nails into his sides in response and a low groan escaped his throat.
"Cassiopeia, what the fuck," He hissed, turning off the motorcycle.
She sat up and clutched her nose in agony, "No, why the fuck are you driving like that for."
He chuckled and slipped off the motorcycle, towering over her.
"Wanted to get your attention."
She rolled her eyes and stumbled off the bike, "Well trust me, you got it."
Cassiopeia held her nose as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"Where are we?" She looked disoriented scanning the area.
"My house," Rafe paused to look at her, "You've been here before."
"Right," She recalled the day when he threw her into the water.
"C'mon," He extended his arm out for her to interlock her fingers into his.
"Isn't Sarah here?" Cassiopeia asked nervously, taking his hand hesitantly.
"She's not a Cameron anymore," Rafe mumbled, guiding them through the darkness.
Cassiopeia ignored his comment and kept close to him, "I'm serious Rafe," She breathed out, feeling the prickers of a nearby bush brush against her body.
"Cassiopeia," He drawled out, making her stomach do tiny somersaults, "She chose John B, that explains enough. She's never here."
The Cameron's yard was lit up by mushroom shaped solar lights that were scattered across the richly green front yard. The house stood as a literal force field in the dark, dozens of lights illuminated the egg shell colored house.
His rugged hand shielded hers entirely. His calloused thumb rubbed smooth circles over the back of her back hand. His pointer finger slipped inside of her palm and he turned to look at her.
Her eyes caught his, and in the shadow of the security lights, she sensed something different looming over him.
"What?" She breathed out.
"Still digging your nails into your palms I see," He whispered, running his finger over the scabbed indents in her skin.
"That's none of your business," She spoke defensively.
He chuckled lowly, "Everything you do is my business."
Cassiopeia let out a small sigh in response and watched Rafe intently as he knelt down near the back door and searched for something in the dirt.
She studied his look of concentration, his tongue slightly sticking out in thought. Finally, she noticed him pulling a string from the ground with a tiny, dirty bronze key swinging at the bottom.
"Is anyone here?" Cassiopeia squeaked as he unlocked the door.
"Duh," He mumbled, the door popping open.
"So why are we here?" She asked frantically, peering inside.
"Relax Pogue," He whispered under his breath, "Dad's gone on a trip, Wheezie is in her room probably on her phone and Rose is most likely asleep, she's too stupid to know how to work the alarm anyways."
Cassiopeia took one more cautious look before following the boy inside the mansion. She immediately noticed to her left a small amber light illuminating an otherwise darkened den. A stack of papers were scattered across the wooden desk and a half empty glass of whiskey had perspiration running down the sides.
Rafe turned back to look at the girl and stepped in front of her, immediately shutting the door to the study.
"Our business isn't your business," He looked down at her with a stoic expression plastered across his tan face.
She nodded, wondering if all the Cameron's were just as secretive as their son was.
He guided her up the spiraling staircase, making her take the lead. His fingers spread across her hips and kneaded into the folds of her skin. She sucked in a deep breath, secretly wishing that he was closer than where he currently was.
His grip tightened on her hips as they reached the top of the steps and she felt his presence grow closer before feeling his breath hit her ear.
"It's the room all the way down the hall," He mumbled, the familiar scent of tobacco drifting to her nostrils, "This will unlock the door." He placed in her hands a silver key and gave her a slight push.
"Aren't you coming?" She mouthed and he nodded. His eyes flashed a sudden darkness before he slipped into a separate room. Cassiopeia felt a slight chill glide down her spine as she turned her attention to the lengthy, dim hallway in front of her.
She stayed on the left side of the hall and extended her arm out to her side, gently running her fingertips across the walls to guide her into the darkened abyss. Her fingers sailed over several framed paintings and wooden doors.
She had to have at least touched eight different doors before landing on the lonesome one at the very end of the hall.
She pulled the tiny key out of her pocket and fiddled with the door knob nervously.
"Come on," She muttered under her breath before the key clicked in the lock, making the door creak open.
His room was completely dark and freezing. He had to have had the temperature set below sixty compared to the warmness of the rest of the house. She coasted her hand over his walls, desperately searching for the light switch. When she felt something similar to it, she carefully pressed the door shut and flicked on the light.
She instantly concealed her eyes as she had to adapt to the immediate brightness. When she finally opened them, she wasn't sure where to pay attention to first.
His room was just what she expected, rather plain to the average onlooker, but most likely filled with secrets.
She hesitantly sauntered around the rather tidy room. Nothing seemed to be out of place. His bed was neatly made, the navy-blue comforter almost looking as though it was recently ironed. She sat down and the frame made an immediate creaking noise underneath her. Curiously, she stood up and made her way to the other side of the bed. Her eyes landed on his raven colored bookshelf, which she briefly remembered him telling her that he "doesn't read." Yet, her gaze landed on a familiar book whose spine was poking out. She scanned the title, "American Psycho."
She shook her head. "Liar," she breathed out, running her finger over the worn spine. He had to have picked up the novel more than once. The pages were stained but smelled of must.
She turned her attention towards his nightstand, and using it as leverage, she placed her hand on top of it, kneeling down to look under his bed. She must've pushed down on the wooden stand too hard, because the underside broke open. Out fell the weapon that he had purchased during one of their deals. She scrambled to her feet, cursing under her breath. Her heart raced as she peered at the gun, silently hoping the safety was on.
On top of the weapon was a small clipped news article with the words, "Local Teen Succumbs to Drug-Related Illness."
Cassiopeia bit down on her lip brutally, enough to draw blood. She knelt back down and lifted the ends of his comforter up to peer underneath his bed. It was nearly spotless, but Cassiopeia knew better. Her hand ran underneath the frame until she felt something soft opening. Her hand reached in and enveloped around something squishy. She pulled the item down and out from under the bed. Her eyes had to adjust to what was sitting in front of her. In shock, she stumbled backwards and trembled as she stared down at her hands.
Underneath her fingernails were traces of chipped, dried blood. Her body remained like a statue as her eyes fixated on the item in front of her, a blood-soaked rag with a mangled looking finger lying next to it. In the middle of the dismembered finger was Cassiopeia's nail indent.
Her breathing grew heavy and she struggled to catch her now hyperventilating self. She clambered to her feet and instantly collided with the tall boy.
He stared down at her, a disappointed look scattered across his defined face.
"Haven't you learned?" He cocked his head at her.
"Rafe," She managed to let out, "Who are you?"
A smile twisted on his face, as he clicked the door shut.
"Oh Cassiopeia, we were meant to find each other. Don't you know damaged souls are star-crossed lovers?"
--
"Rafe," Cassiopeia took a step backwards. Her body was visibly shaking at this point. Her eyes darted from the bloody digit to Rafe's looming figure.
"I can't say it's not what it looks like," He said firmly, "But it's definitely not how you're interpreting it."
"I'll shoot you," The words stumbled out of her mouth in a cluster, "I won't hesitate to."
He shook his head as a smirk crept on his face, "You'd be hurting yourself."
"I'm nothing like you," She spat, her back flush against his wall as he grew closer.
"Like me? What am I?"
"A murderer, a psychopath, you're a delusional narcissist," She stammered out.
"If I'm all these things," He spoke slowly, his arm extending out to touch her, "Why nearly give yourself to me on the beach?"
"It was a mistake," She spat, slapping his arm away.
He chuckled once more, "Your brain is swamped of lies. You can blame the Pogues for that."
She shot a glare at him before she dove for the gun. He wrapped his arms around her waist and nearly threw her against the wall.
He held her up and stared at her in confusion. A sad inquiry seemed to dwell in his gaze.
"That's no one's blood on the rag besides my own," He spoke in broken segments, his breathing heavy. When she didn't respond, he continued on.
"That person's finger, they lost it for a good reason."
"You don't just cut someone's finger off," She hissed.
"That's not the point Cassiopeia," He grumbled, holding her firmly, "They aren't dead, not yet at least."
She shook her head in response, her eyes rolling up towards the ceiling.
"Is that the same boy who died from a drug overdose?"
Rafe looked at her forlornly, "No."
A sudden uncontrollable outburst of anger rolled off of her, "So you cut off a finger for some god forsaken reason, feed drugs to a minor who died from your negligent actions, and you were the mastermind behind JJ's slaughtered chickens. Why the fuck would you think that I want anything to do with you?"
"No, Cassiopeia, fuck no," He nearly shouted the last words in frustration.
"So what is it then Rafe?" She narrowed her eyes at him, her nails familiarly digging into the scabbed over indents in her palms.
"Everything I do," He spoke through gritted teeth, "I do to protect myself, my family, you."
"I don't even know you," She shook her head, agitated with violent and contending emotions.
"But I know you," Rafe spoke confidently, "You needed to be rescued."
She laughed cruelly in response and broke free of his grip, "You are not this knight and shining armor that you paint yourself to be. You're fucked up in the head."
He watched her with a cold gaze as she reached towards the door handle.
"You don't want to do that," He mumbled.
"Or what?" She spun around, "You gonna slit my throat? Keep a piece of me under your bed as a souvenir?"
He drifted towards her and secured his hand over hers, "Trust me."
"Trust is earned, not gained," She replied coolly.
"I can't disclose what all of that means just yet."
She rolled her eyes, "Have you mistaken me for being totally ignorant and turn the other way at every fucking thing you do?"
"I'm not what you are portraying me out to be."
"I need to go Rafe."
"I'm not this fucking monster Cassiopeia," He shouted as she tried to open the door.
He placed his hand above her head and slammed it shut, "What, you think I would freely let you go?"
"I have things I need to take care of."
He sighed deeply, from a kind of mental depletion, "I can help you."
She shook her head, "I don't need you."
He raised a hand to silence her, "I'm tired of hearing you talk," He mumbled suddenly.
She raised a surprised eyebrow at him, "That's a little inconsiderate."
"Do you see how you're acting right now?"
"It doesn't pertain to you Rafe."
"Just fucking tell me already."
She sighed and leaned against his door, her gaze searching his face.
"There's this guy who I dealt to not too long ago at the gas station."
"Samuel," Rafe instantly replied.
"Sure," She ignored his comment and continued on, "Anyways he's missing, and the paper picked up on his disappearance. The cops are going to go check out the video footage. They are going to see me on there."
"I told you to never deal around other people and in brightly lit places."
"Sorry I didn't want to get jumped," She snapped.
He sighed, and ran his free hand through his sand colored hair. He looked deep and thought before his gaze faltered and fell on hers.
"I'll take care of it."
She scoffed, "There's nothing you can do. I need to get out of here, Topper was supposed to help me."
Rafe sneered at her comment, "He's useless when it comes to this stuff."
She folded her arms across her chest, "And how do you expect to take care of it?"
"The Cameron's hold great leverage here, my dad could be the fucking mayor if he wanted to. I'll take care of it," He spoke so reassuringly Cassiopeia almost believed him.
"Why are you-," Her words trailed off brokenly.
"Sick?" He responded, his voice thick with resentment, "I'm not, just misunderstood."
She felt a small weight lift off her shoulders as he guided her to his bed. He spun her around and laid her down slowly, her whole frame collapsing and shrinking underneath him.
"This wasn't how this summer was supposed to go," She murmured up at the ceiling.
He laid down next to her, holding his breath in admiring silence.
"So, tell me," He breathed through nearly closed lips, his finger running up her inner thigh, "How it's supposed to end."
She paused, stunned and comprehending his touch. But she didn't push him away like the voices in her head were demanding her to. He waited a moment, a pensive silence filling the thick air between them. His fingertip moves slowly over one of the purple marks on her leg and she can feel her body heat up to his delicate touch. She turns her head to look at him, but his eyes are already dark and fixated on hers. He traveled his finger further up, to where her inner thigh meets the crease of her pelvis bone. She could hear her pulse vibrating in her ears and it only grew louder the longer she looked at him. His whole face was lightened with a musing ecstasy of contemplation. And she thought about why he was hesitantly waiting. Only for it to dawn on her.
So, she spoke with her body.
She draped her other leg over him as his other hand snaked to her hip, pulling her firmly on top of him. His eyes frantically searched for some answer in hers. She was captured by his ocean blue hues, scattered with pigments of the deep sea. She felt her whole soul being sucked in and drowned in his gaze. He sneaked his hands underneath her hoodie and glided them up her bare back. The touch sent her leaning back against his hands as her spine twisted straight up. He supported her body, his hands cupping the sides of her shoulder blades.
"Come here," He let out hoarsely.
His hands guided her downwards until her nose brushed delicately against the scruff of his chin.
Their bodies were flush against each other's, their heart beats in a synchronous rhythm.
His hands traveled up her greedily, soaking every ounce of her body in his hands.
Her breaths developed into uneven tempos within each inch of skin he crossed over.
Rafe finally rested his hands evenly on the sides of her neck. His thumbs meandered over her throat before closing his grip around her neck. She let out a feeble gasp before he brought her mouth up to his.
She instantaneously exhaled into his mouth, opening hers in response. His grasp around her throat tightened as she tangled her fingers in his messy hair. He groaned earnestly at her touch and snaked his tongue into her mouth. Their bodies subtly rocked together, the heat gradually increasing between them. Her hoodie was itching to be taken off and the need to feel straight skin was becoming overwhelming. The bed creaked slowly, replacing the sounds of the waves that had crashed around them before. The heat was throbbing and coursing through her lower half as she pushed more against him. Her hands traveled down his hair to his chest and she frantically tore open his button down. He snickered in her mouth and dragged his teeth across her lower lip, sucking on it profusely before letting it snap back.
His breath hitched suddenly as her hands continued to travel downwards, resting them right above his waist band.
He paused for a moment, pulling away from her lips. Her eyes fluttered open as she ran her tongue across her bottom lip, savoring his taste.
He watched her intently, his eyes clouded with a familiar look of darkness that throbbed her inner core. Their gazes remained locked as he progressed his hands down her chest, his fingers tracing the outline of her nipple.
Her breathing slowed to a steady halt as she watched him with lustful eyes.
She carefully dragged her hands over his zipper, her eyes remaining on his. Cassiopeia delicately pulled it down, her heartbeat racing.
He studied her with such fascination, knowing she was torturing him with her slow movements.
His lips were slightly inflamed, displaying a darker shade of pink than before. In the dim light of his room, Cassiopeia had never laid her eyes on someone darker and more alluring than Rafe Cameron. He was the seed that grew and bloomed in the depths of her apocalyptic world. He captivated her damaged soul and planted his brokenness into hers, in hopes that two broken individuals could stitch something whole.
He interrupted her thoughts as he pulled her back down into him. She reached up and cupped his face, kissing him greedily as her tongue enveloped into his. He cupped his hands around her breasts and squeezed slightly, making her moan breathlessly into his mouth. Her sounds sent him spiraling as he flipped them over, his body sprawled out on top of hers. She could feel him press against her harder now and she moved back against him with such fervor that her body was shaking.
She had never been touched in the way in this way ever, and she wondered how much experience he had before her. She was sure that the local Kook girls had always fawned after him. A twinge of jealousy raged through her as she kissed him forcefully and started to swivel his pants down his hips, making him groan.
He paid special attention to every mark, groove and crevice of her body, soaking her all in.
The taste of tobacco and mint was heavily intoxicating to her, clouding her brain with dangerous intrusive thoughts.
That was until an image of JJ's chickens crossed her mind. She tried to push it out, but continuous depictions of them lying on the ground paired with the dismembered finger looming over them. She wrapped her arms around him and attempted to deepen the kiss, until the image of him pointing the gun at her and blowing her brains consumed her, making her pull away instantly.
His eyes shot open and he gave her a look of perplexity. It was almost as if he read her mind.
"I can't," She mumbled breathlessly, refusing to meet his concerned glance.
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and moved off of her. He walked to the door, and she thought for a moment he would leave, until he flicked the light switch off and clambered back into bed. She pulled her hood over her head and stared up at his dark ceiling, wishing she could disappear. They lay there in silence, the awkwardness floating in the air above them.
They aren't touching anymore, both of them on opposite sides of the bed. Cassiopeia thought that perhaps she should just leave. She collected her thoughts and sucked in a breath, about to speak, but he cut her short.
"I value patience Cassiopeia," He spoke thickly, "And you're the only one out of all the godforsaken girls on this fucking island that I decided was worth being patient for."
--
Cloudy light poured in between the open spaces of Rafe's navy colored curtain. Cassiopeia rubbed her eyes and let out a drawn-out yawn. She turned on her side, reaching out for him but was met with empty space. A voice in the corner of the room cleared their throat and she shot up instantly.
Standing diagonally from her was a pretty, fake blonde and a taller scruffy looking man.
"Who are you?" The woman cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at Cassiopeia. She pulled the sheet over her completely, realizing that her hoodie had ridden up on her, exposing her stomach.
"Cassiopeia," She replied feebly, "I'm sorry I'll go."
"Right," The woman twisted her lips into forced smile, "You should."
She silently thanked her conscious that she still had clothes on. She slid off the bed and fixed her hoodie so that it hung over her thighs.
"Would you like a ride?" The man spoke gently.
Cassiopeia ran a disgruntled hand through her hair, "Oh no, it's fine, I can walk."
"I insist," A smile crept onto his face as she bit her lip.
The woman snapped her head towards him disapprovingly and Cassiopeia instantly grew flush.
"You can wait for me outside by the Benz," He spoke gingerly.
Cassiopeia nodded quickly and collected her bag, hurriedly rushing out of the room.
The hallway in the daylight looked rather homey. She examined the array of artwork as she sauntered down the hall. Framed photos of the Cameron family were lined up on an antique looking dresser. She studied the family closely, noticing in almost all of the photos that Rafe hadn't smiled an ounce. He looked stern and displeased, and was definitely forced into taking these photos every family vacation.
Sarah flashed her gorgeous smile in every photo and her golden hair never once out of place. Standing next to her was presumably Wheezie. The girl looked nothing like the two older siblings. She had long curly brown hair, and square framed glasses that made her look astute and clever. On the opposite side of Wheezie was the familiar looking blonde woman. That had to have been Rose. In each photo, she displayed a different color of lipstick. She looked way more uptight than Sarah who seemingly looked carefree in each picture. Lastly, the scruffy man stood in between Sarah and Rafe. Ward Cameron definitely resembled a lady pleaser, with his tousled brown hair and sweet baby blues that Rafe inherited. Rafe was by far taller than his father, soaring over him every time they were paired next to each other.
The longer she stared at their photos, the more she felt out of place. She didn't belong in this family and never would be. As her eyes floated over the Sarah's complexion, felt a bitterness creep into her mouth. She bit down on her bottom lip, not realizing how inflamed it was from Rafe pulling, biting and sucking on it.
A door down the hall opened and Cassiopeia anxiously picked up her bag, afraid that Sarah might walk out of one of the many rooms and confront her. She trekked down the winding staircase before she was met with a soft voice, making her freeze in the middle of the marble floor.
"Do I know you?"
Cassiopeia swung her head towards the top of the stairs, to see Wheezie leaning over the railing.
"Definitely not, and you never will," Cassiopeia replied quickly, bustling out the front door before Wheezie could say anything else.
Cassiopeia rushed towards the off-white Benz out in front. Her face radiating with embarrassment and flooded with shame. She felt like an outsider and desperately wanted to leave, half tempted to start making her way down the driveway.
She jumped suddenly as the car roared to a start. She turned to see Ward sauntering towards her, a pair of black reflective aviators rested on the bridge of his nose. He flashed her a dazzling white smile, making her feel incredibly small.
"Hop in!" He called. She nervously pulled the door handle and sat down on the leather seat. She looked around and noted how incredibly clean the car was. It almost smelled brand new, there wasn't a stray hair or crumb in sight. He pulled the door handle and plopped down in the car. The smell of aftershave wafted over to her. It was a musky scent, much stronger than his son's. He also reeked of Listerine, she nearly gagged at the odor of it. Rafe's minty aroma was much subtler whereas Ward's was overpowering.
"Where to?" He interrupted her thoughts as he pulled out of the driveway.
She blanked for a moment, "Uh, Grasshead Road."
"Ah," He smiled, taking a sip out of his thermos, "The Rossi residence."
She smiled weakly, "Really just my grandmother."
"Your grandfather," Ward kept his eyes on the road, "Was a great man."
Cassiopeia nodded awkwardly, "So I've been told."
He glanced over at her, "I'm so sorry about your brother."
She stared at the road expressionless, tensing up at the mention of her dead sibling.
"Thanks."
"His funeral was beautiful; your grandfather did such a good job of displaying his life."
"You were there?" Cassiopeia questioned.
"Your grandfather and I were great friends, played golf together on many occasions."
Cassiopeia couldn't access that memory of Mr. Cameron coming around her house. Before a month ago, she had never seen Rafe in her life.
"He was a Kook once, you know."
"Yes," Cassiopeia hummed, "Until he met my grandmother."
Ward chuckled, "She must've had some hold on him. Just like you do with my son."
Cassiopeia's body hardened to his words as Ward continued on, "He has Cameron blood, a devout Kook. I could see him taking over this island when I pass on."
She continued to stare straight ahead, realizing this conversation took a compelling turn.
"Sarah, she'll learn one way or another. John B is not all that he appears to be."
Cassiopeia bit down on her lip in thought. "John B has been a really good friend to me."
Ward chuckled calculatedly, "Pogues are deceiving, you'll learn that."
Her knee bounced up and down anxiously, counting down the minutes until he turned on her road.
"Rafe is not a force to be messed with," He looked over at her as they sat at a traffic light. She felt her body restlessly heat up at his glance.
"He's on track for running this place, and he's slowly blowing it. He's letting everything go to his head."
Cassiopeia hummed in response, not quite sure how she should vocally respond. Ward finally turned down her road and she pressed the seatbelt button, anxious to get out of the car.
"You need to be careful," He rolled to a stop. She glanced over at the man, a serious expression covering his face.
"Or you're going to end up like your brother."
Cassiopeia gave Ward a fearful look before opening the car door, "Thanks for the ride," She mumbled, slamming the door behind her. She watched as the Benz sped down the dirt road as she turned towards her grandmother's little house, a significant chill settling under her skin.
She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked up the steps, unable to shake the feeling that Ward knew something more than what he was letting on. She wondered if Rafe was also aware and that's why he had to keep so many things a secret from her. She ran her tongue across her lips in thought, the jagged edges of skin sticking up. She was severely hydrated and was craving water. She swung open the screen door and was met with her grandmother in the kitchen.
"I've been waiting on you," She spoke softly as she whisked something in a bowl.
"Oh?" Cassiopeia raised her eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, "Is everything alright?"
Her grandmother smiled and looked up at her, "Just your mother calling to see how you were doing. I said I hadn't seen much of you."
"About that," Cassiopeia felt her chest tighten, "I'm sorry if I've been MIA, just a lot happened all at once."
Grandma Rossi let out a light-hearted laugh, "Oh darling, I was young once too. Being a free spirit in this day and age is rare."
Cassiopeia's lips curved up in a small smile, before she took a sip of water.
"However," Her grandmother continued on and turned towards the sink, "There has been a string of robberies recently, I need you to be home at night more often."
"When was the last one?" Cassiopeia asked curiously, drumming her fingers on the counter.
Her grandmother pointed at the TV, "Just happened last night, the news has been doing 24/7 coverage of it. Must've been some folks from the Cut."
Cassiopeia turned towards the television and walked over hesitantly, the screen flickering a plethora of colors.
A man sat high up in his chair, looking directly into the camera. Underneath the screen was a banner that ran across, "Armed Robbery at Gas Station Injures Two."
The poor definition of the CCTV made it nearly impossible to tell who had robbed the store. Cassiopeia sat down in one of the corduroy covered chairs, her eyes glued to the television.
The news station aired footage of two men robbing the store, one who is incredibly tall and the other slightly shorter.
Cassiopeia tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. As the station played the clip of the robbery in slow motion, her eyes caught sight of one of the men's hands. She took a slow gulp, recognizing the ring from a mile away. The gold covered ring encrusted with traces of blood, shined brightly on the camera.
The news anchor then claims that the oddity of the robbery consisted of the men getting away with only security footage. Cassiopeia studied the screen intently, her leg bouncing up and down furiously.
The news anchor briefly mentioned that police were scheduled to go to the gas station later this afternoon, as they wanted to retrieve the footage from that night of the man who went missing. Cassiopeia's hands grew clammy and she rubbed the excess sweat on the sides of her thighs. The broadcast comes to a sudden halt as the news anchor is now sitting higher up in his seat.
"We've just gotten word and image from a source detailing that the police have found the body of 49-year-old Samuel Gregerson."
Cassiopeia sat at the edge of her seat, feeling incredibly dizzy.
There was no way.
The news anchor continued, "Police are frantically looking for the two men who may have been in connection with the disappearance of Gregerson. Law enforcement are also on the search for a missing finger that was presumably amputated from Gregerson's right hand. Anyone that has information on the whereabouts of Gregerson the night of July 18th or possibly who these two men are, are urged to come forward immediately."
Cassiopeia swallowed thickly, another image of the two men appeared on the screen. Her eyes locked on the taller man's, who just happened to look up at the camera. The sea of cerulean outlined with a familiar darkness which she could recognize in her sleep.
His voice rang throughout her ears, don't you know damaged souls are star-crossed lovers?