CHAPTER SIXTEEN
[16]
song: use me (feat. 070 shake) by pvris
It burned in her nose, and too much got caught in the back of her throat. She leaned up and tilted her head back, pressing her tongue to the top of her mouth to ease the pressure. Then she doubled over, starting to cough.
That tacky, paint flavor in her mouth was a distasteful reminder of her life a year ago. The way she used to depend on this stuff to be a good, confident conversationalist. When her friends used to have a couple beers at a party, she'd sneak around the corner and grab a bag of this off of Aubri or Barry. Whoever had any.
It made her feel really good for about ten minutes. Made her chatty, and energetic, and happy to be there. But now it just burned the inner corners of her eyes, like she'd gone deep underwater and purposefully inhaled through her nose.
She clung to her throat, now sat against Rafe's dresser as she coughed it out, holding a finger against her nose to keep it from draining.
What a pathetic way to live.
It took more effort than it should've for Cassie to get herself up and off the floor, to clean up her mess and put it back like it was before.
She couldn't stop thinking about the dead body in that truck. Of the sounds he made as he died, of the blood that drained from his chest. She couldn't go home even if she wanted to. She couldn't carry on with her life right now, couldn't go back to pretending that everything wasn't so deeply screwed up.
There was a comfort in being here in this house that she wasn't used to. In it's marble floors, and freshly manicured lawn, she didn't have to face consequences. The Cameron's never had to before, why start now?
Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs and towards the door, she quickly wiped her nose of any evidence as Rafe flung the door open, and quickly shut it behind him.
She watched him carefully as he swept past her and toward his bedside table, setting down the truck keys. He was moving so fast her eyes struggled to keep up. It wasn't until he walked over to his closet and pulled out a suitcase that she felt inclined to speak.
"Where are you going?" She asked.
There must've been a tone of disappointment to her voice that she hadn't noticed, as Rafe turned to look at her with such sad eyes, she began to wonder what she possibly could have done to have caused this.
He looked around his room as he thought of his next words. A strange satisfaction in knowing what happened next, but also that fear of it not playing out the way he hoped.
Cassie sat down on the bench at the end of his bed, the urge to pass out quickly growing strong as her head throbbed, and her stomach twisted, begging her for fuel. She watched him, hands on either side of her to keep herself upright.
He was leaving. He was packing his stuff up, and leaving.
And she was just sat here, hopeless, and foolish, and just another one of his pawns that he strings along until he gets what he wants. And he did, so he was leaving.
"No." She let out, realization slowly hitting her at the thought of how completely alone she'd be. Another person in her life, gone. Another to add to her long list.
Rafe was shaking his head, walking over to where she sat. He didn't like that the idea even existed in her mind for a second, and so he had to act quickly.
He bent down in front of her, trying to meet her eyes though they just stayed focused and lifeless ahead. "Look at me," he starts.
It was hard for Cassie to process his words, and to move her eyes to meet his. Everything was delayed.
"My family's leaving. We're getting out of the OBX and we're gonna build a new life somewhere else. Start over." He continues, talking slowly and keeping his eyes on hers to ensure she's gathering it all. "And I want you to come with me."
Cassie blinked a few times, and it was only when her eyebrows narrowed just slightly that Rafe knew she heard him.
"We're both gonna start over, alright? Don't you want that?"
She was shaking her head now, her eyes starting to close.
"Cassie?"
"Leave? Where?" She lets out, wishing now that her mind was clear. It was already hard enough to make decisions, but now with all of these drugs clouding her head— she couldn't even start and finish one coherent thought without another one interrupting.
He was still bent down in front of her. "I don't— I don't know yet. But we're leaving soon."
"I can't just leave." She says, her voice quiet as she watches him stand up, and sit beside her.
"Why not?" He asks, turning his head toward her as her eyes return to the floor.
Her lips struggled to form words, her tongue felt numb. "Because— I, my—" she couldn't even begin to admit it, as she knew the response she'd be met with.
'I can't leave my brother.'
'He already left you.'
Cassie turned to face Rafe, her head nodding before she even got a chance to come to that conclusion in her mind. It was just pure instinct.
He tried to read her expression, one that surely didn't match the nodding of her head. "Yes?" He asked, trying to get a sure answer.
She didn't respond with words. Instead, she closed the space between them, their lips meeting in a kiss that was both desperate and passionate. Pure instinct. Her hand gently on his cheek as she pulled him closer, feeling those familiar butterflies as she listened to the way he breathed her in.
She never wanted him to be far away again, all that time passed between the two of them. Those moments where they barely spoke, barley knew each other. She didn't want it to go back to that again. She didn't know if she could handle it.
She felt his hands on her waist, a suggestion on what to do next, on where to go. She kept her lips on his, as she pushed him back and lifted her leg over his lap. His hands were on her back, now pressing into her so deeply, her spine straightened and twisted until all space between them was gone. She ran her hands ran through his hair, making him groan as he melted back into the bed.
His kisses were soft, sweet, tentative with underlying desire and urgency in every touch splayed across her skin. Each moment a revelation of the unspoken emotions that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. His lips moved with a familiarity that sent shivers down her spine, reminding her of the moment shared just the day before.
But this was different. This was quieter, and slower, and every move was hinting at the possibility of something more. And they both knew it.
The world outside this house seemed to disappear every time Cassie and Rafe were together, the weight of their past mistakes and betrayals lifting with each touch.
There was a freedom to this high that she wanted to relish in while she still could. She wanted to savor this confidence she felt, knowing how rare it was to not want to jump out of her own skin and hide at the thought of someone seeing her like this; a tangled mess of hands in hair, swollen lips, and pleading eyes.
She had pulled away for a quick second, but only to lift her sweater up and over her head. It was Rafe who pulled her lips back down to his, as if her leaning back to remove her top was too far of a distance.
He tried to lean up into her, pushing himself up and off the bed while cradling her back. Hands that were made to kill, and yet, he was holding her so gently, as if she was fragile.
At some point, there had been a quick exchange of words that led them to his bed.
She didn't care how obvious her inexperience was, if anything, she enjoyed the fact that Rafe was taking the lead. She was too tired, too numb, to put forth the effort to make it seem otherwise.
"Is this okay?" He mumbles, as he trails his kisses from her lips down to her collarbone.
All she could do was nod, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back.
But Rafe stopped suddenly, pulling away and looking up at her. She grew confused, her eyebrows lifting up in worry as she felt she'd done something wrong.
"Is this okay?" He repeats, clearer this time.
And it was clear he just hadn't felt her head nod, and was seeking verbal confirmation. She laughed, "Yes." she says happily as she pulls him back onto her lips. "Mhm." She hums.
It was only until Rafe leaned up and off of her to remove his own shirt, when she was left only in her bra and shorts, leaned up on her elbows on her bed, that things started to settle in.
Was this how fast this usually escalated? They'd been kissing for a while, what was she supposed to do now? She couldn't expect him to make every move. She had to do something to keep this going— she never wanted it to end.
He'd been too cautious with his hands. And while she liked that, liked that he was aware of what parts of her he was touching, to gage her reaction, to see what she was and wasn't comfortable with— she didn't think he'd move any farther until she insinuated that's what she wanted.
And she did. She wanted him now. She was the most inexperienced of everyone she knew, and she was embarrassed. She liked to think it was a conscience choice, that she just hadn't wanted to— but she had. She just didn't know how to get it to that point.
She remembered when Kiara lost her virginity to some Kook at a party. And the next day, the two of them took the fishing boat off to the middle of The Cut, sat in the silence of the marsh as she gave Cassie the entire run-down. It was so long ago, and since then, Cassie felt like she'd been falling behind.
So Cassie grabbed Rafe's hand, gently moving it from her hip where he held her as he kissed her, down towards her lower stomach.
When he caught on, he had pulled away from her lips slightly, enough to speak, but he physically didn't want to pull away any farther from her than he had to right now. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do." He whispered.
And that yanked Cassie out of the lust of it all, worry rushing back into her system, guilt to follow. "Do you want to?" She asked, almost panicked, as she realized she hadn't even thought of that.
Rafe nodded back into the kiss like he couldn't take another second of not kissing her. He smiled against her lips as his head rocked back and forth slightly. She felt relief, relief that someone wanted her in the same way she wanted them.
She felt his hands slip beneath the hem of her shorts, and her breath hitched at the unfamiliar touch, his cold fingers against her warm skin.
And he touched her in ways she hadn't been before. And she didn't know what to do with herself, where to look or if she should close her eyes. He had brought his lips down to the crook of her neck, and she felt his teeth graze against her skin as he breathed into her.
Her hand shot up to his head, burying her fingers into his hair when he had touched a different spot, and he almost laughed into his kisses. Not in a mocking way, no, in a way that coated in pride. She laughed with him, sharp exhales of laughter, mixed in between other escapes of satisfied noises.
She didn't know what came over her. Maybe it was the high, or maybe it was that she truly felt she wanted to, but she spoke. "Do you want to..."
Maybe the fact that she couldn't even say the words should be sign enough that she wasn't ready. Mentally, at least. Her body, however, was telling her otherwise. Kiara had told her the first time hurt really bad, but only because it was with someone she wasn't comfortable with. She'd said to wait and do it with someone you actually liked, and cared about. Someone that you were comfortable with.
Rafe lifted his head up from her neck and looked at her in a way that made her nervous. She she wished he'd go back to kissing her, so that she wouldn't have to meet his eyes, and be reminded of the fact that he was seeing her half-naked.
"Do...?" Rafe urged her to continue, in a taunting way that made them both laugh. "You can say it."
"Can I?" Cassie joked, squinting an eye as he held himself up above her.
He smiled down at her, at the way her blonde hair was splayed out and around her face on his bed. At the way she kept her hands gently holding onto his arms, as he kept himself upright, her fingers slowly grazing his skin. She was so pretty like this, laid before him, prey pinned to the snowy ground, a pink flush to her cheeks.
He wanted to hear the sounds she'd make, he wanted to feel her in ways he hadn't yet.
He leaned back in slowly, and she seemed almost surprised by the action, knowing that this kiss carried more weight than the kisses before.
She wasn't as nervous as she thought she'd be for her first time. Not as intimated by it all. Not until she was fully unclothed, and she kept getting that urge to cover herself up.
It was uncomfortable at first. And she kept wondering why it was people enjoyed this. He'd whispered to her several times to 'just relax', but that was much easier said than done. She kept a hand clasped around his wrist as he moved, like that would lend her some sort of support. Like holding onto a hand when getting a shot.
She liked that he'd done it before, she liked that you could tell he knew what he was doing. She kept finding herself wondering if it was his first time doing it with some who hasn't. It couldn't have been, he knew all the right things to say and do.
And then the pressure was gone; and after spending the first few moments of it all holding her breath, she'd felt her body relax with his every move. Her grip on his wrist had loosened, her head had dug itself back into the mattress as her chin lifted.
There were moments in it all that had felt so mundane, unlike anything she'd seen in the movies, or read in the books. Moments where he pulls away from her lips for a second, as her hair had gotten tangled in his mouth. And they laughed about it, and then she pulled him back towards her. Moments where it started to hurt again, and she had to take a second to readjust, and there was just a brief pause, and there was no shame in it. Moments where he had to tell her what to do next, and where she had to tell him what felt good and what didn't.
And then when it was all over, and she was racked with this overwhelming feeling of guilt and shame. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, with her makeup smudged and her hair disheveled. When her naked body didn't look as sexy as she thought it should've for him, or when she couldn't believe this is what he'd been looking at this whole time.
When she started to question herself, started to question why she just did that—it was as if he was in her head reading her thoughts, and he came out of the bathroom, leaning down into the bed, and kissed her again.
And she was reminded, by just the gentle touch of his lips, that someone wanted her. Someone chose her. She hadn't experienced that before, and she liked it.
"I'm gonna shower." He says, leaning up off the bed.
Cassie nodded sweetly, sending him a soft, happy smile before he returned to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. She remained there for a while, tangled in his sheets, inhaling his scent and savoring every fleeting feeling.
She had this urge to call Kiara. That, despite everything, a moment like this would trump all of their other problems. That Kiara would be excited for her, and they'd go out into the marsh and Cassie would tell her all about it. And there wouldn't be any questions like: 'why him?', 'don't you remember what he's done?' .
Because this was a big moment for Cassie, and you'd think a friend could look past some things. But how foolish Cassie continued to be; still believing that all of her problems, all of her choices, and issues weren't really that big of a deal.
She could've stayed in the warmth of his bed forever, and she would've, if not for the fear of Rose walking in at any moment and seeing her in here, naked.
She gathered her clothes up off the floor before redressing, eyes focused up on that chest on the mantle. Rafe wouldn't notice if one more bag was missing— he probably wouldn't even think to take any of it with them. So she reached inside, and stashed a bag into her pocket for later.
There wasn't enough time to move, let alone make the room look any less inconspicuous, when someone started to open the door. Cassie was expecting Rose, or even Wheezie. Sarah, however, not at all.
The girl walks in quietly, clearly not wanting to be seen or heard, but she jumps when she sees Cassie standing there. Startled at first, her face shifts from surprised, to confused in a split second.
"What are you—" Sarah starts in a whisper, but as she looked around the room, eyeing the twisted sheets, listening in on the running shower in the bathroom, she pieces things together in her head.
Cassie couldn't read her expression. Whether it was angry, or confused, disappointed or worried. She started shaking her head, first not wanting her to assume anything, but why wouldn't she? "What are you doing?" Cassie asks.
Sarah glances at the keys sat on Rafe's bedside table, where she was headed before realizing Cassie was here. "I need the keys."
Cassie had almost completely forgotten about the truck parked out front, and her heart dropped in her chest. "I can't let you do that." She spoke cautiously.
It appeared that Sarah was desperately searching for any recognition in Cassie's eyes. "That cross belongs to Pope's family." She says.
Cassie wished it was as simple as just handing over the cross. She wished there wasn't a freshly dead body back there, and she could just give Sarah the keys and get it all out of her hair. "You think I care about the cross? This isn't about that." Cassie spoke slowly, trying to remain calm despite all of her nerves daring her to start screaming.
"Then what's it about?!" Sarah says, keeping her voice quiet as not to let Rafe overhear from the shower.
Cassie swallows harshly, knowing she can't tell her but wanting to desperately. "I can't—" she pinched the bridge of her nose, where it started to sting. "—tell you that, right now." She finally gets out.
Sarah eyes her, then glances at the key again. "If you don't care about the cross, then just let me take it."
Cassie's stare was blank, empty and lifeless. She could barely form coherent thoughts let alone her next words. But Sarah read in between the lines. "You're afraid of him." She says.
"I'm not afraid of—"
"You're afraid he'll leave you if you give it up." Sarah interrupts, nodding like she knew she was right. When Cassie didn't respond, Sarah let out a surprised scoff, her eyebrows upturned worry. "That's not healthy, Cassie!"
Her eyes narrowed, not sure why she felt like now was the time to point out Cassie's unhealthy habits. "He's all I have right now."
"That's not true, and you know it." Sarah raised her voice louder than she should've.
The shower shuts off, and the two girls froze. As if they'd both been caught doing something they shouldn't. It was seconds of stillness and silence, as Cassie and Sarah kept their eyes on each other, waiting to see who'd move first.
"Please." Sarah mouthed her words. "You know this isn't right."
Cassie was so overwhelmed by it all, she felt the pressure of everything hit her all at once. She wanted to give her the keys. She wanted to show Sarah that she didn't care about the cross, that that wasn't why she was here with Rafe. But there were bigger things at stake now. Bigger things that Cassie, in good conscience, couldn't let Sarah know about, let alone see.
The girl rubbed her eyes, tired and confused, wanting to go back to two minutes ago when none of this was on her mind. She thought about Renfield's body in the truck. She thought about Rafe making her promise not to tell anyone. She thought about getting on a boat in an hour, fleeing everything that had made her hurt so badly. She thought about disappointing him, and then she thought about disappointing her friends.
And she thought about which one she was more likely to recover from, and which one she'd rather recover from.
She pulled her hands from her eyes, looking at Sarah with what appeared to be an apologetic look, one that made Sarah start shaking her head frantically. "Rafe." Cassie spoke.
Sarah's eyes widened in panic. And Cassie wondered how Sarah could be so scared of the same person who'd just been so gentle, and so understanding, and so careful with her, only half an hour ago.
"Yeah?" He responded from behind the door.
Sarah lunged for the keys, and fast. An unexpected move, but if she was going to be caught, she might as well be caught trying. And there was a part of Cassie that was cheering her on.
She was out the door with the keys in a blur, and Cassie legs unexpectedly gave out. She clung onto the bannister beside her, one of Rafe's hats falling off in the process. Head pounding, her eyes burning with a pressure that was only relieved when she squeezed them shut.
The bathroom door opened, and Cassie didn't even have enough strength to pull herself off of it despite not wanting him to see her like this. "Wh—" he started, peaking his head around the door. He wore only his jeans from earlier, now, his skin and hair still wet from the water. He held his shirt in his hand, like he'd been interrupted in the process of changing.
He moved to her quickly, if not mostly because she looked like she was going to fall over. She waved it off, pushing herself off the bannister like it was nothing. "Sarah's here." She says, but couldn't get past the way Rafe was looking at her. Like she was some fragile doll. "She's trying to get into the truck."
His eyes darted over to where the keys were previously on the table, his body immediately tensing.
But then turns back to Cassie, trying to get in her line of sight. "What did you take?" He asked, in a tone she hadn't heard from him before. Urgent, and almost afraid.
She was almost taken aback by it, confused and almost offended he would think that. And why that was his first question after he just found out his sister ran off to get in the truck with the dead body in it. "Nothing." She says, eyebrows furrowed together.
He ran his hands through his wet hair frustratedly, glancing out the open door then back to her. He throws his shirt on over his head quickly, before gesturing to the bed. "Sit down." He says.
Cassie wasn't sure why she felt like she had to wait to be told to do so, as soon as she sat down she started to feel better. The pressure shifted from her eyes to the back of her throat, and at least that she could swallow down.
"Don't— just—" he had made his way over to the door, moving quicker than Cassie could keep up with. "Just stay in here." And then the door shut behind him.
He moved quickly, that all too familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his body as he pushed down the stairs, glancing up and out the windows every other second to see if he could see her.
It wasn't until he was outside, turning the corner into the front yard that he saw the doors of the truck, swung open, that he knew things were once again not going over the way he'd planned. And that, once again, he was going to be painted as the bad guy for handling the situations with the seriousness they required.
And if that meant closing a hand down over Sarah's mouth, and pulling her back inside while she kicked and screamed. He'd do it. Because if he didn't, Sarah'd run and tell everyone she saw that Rafe had killed a man, without taking a single second to consider the possibility that he hadn't.
He'd lock her in the wine cellar, too. If he had to, and listen to her screams of protest. If it meant protecting the people he loved from the harm her mouth would cause, he'd do it all again.
"You asshole!" Sarah screamed, throwing a glass bottle at the door he stood in front of.
He listened to it shatter, more concerned as to which one she threw than the fact that she was in clear distress. Their dad had waited a long time to open some of that wine. He won't be pleased to find out she'd tossed it at a door amidst throwing a fit.
"Rafe!" Sarah yelled. "Let me out!" She pounded her fist on the door repeatedly.
"I'm not letting you out, Sarah. Not until you calm down." Rafe says with a sigh, biting his fingernails.
"Cassie!" She screamed next, and that made Rafe turn around and slam his fist on the door.
"Hey!" He yelled, louder than her. And he heard her quiet down. "Stop it!"
"Rafe, what the hell is going on?" Rose says, coming down the stairs quickly.
"You wanted Sarah, right?" He says, lazily scratching his nose as he turned to face her.
"That's Sarah?!" She responded frantically.
"Rose!?" Sarah hit the door, again and again.
And he hated the way she manipulated them. And he hated how easily they fell for it. Every time. All she had to do was cry, and plead, and they'd come running.
"Why is she locked in there?" Rose asked, eyes wide.
"She's— she's locked in there because sometimes you have to make the hard choices, right?" He says, turning to face the door again. "And you fail to understand that. Every. Time." He hits the door with his fists again.
"Shut the hell up!" Sarah screams back, her voice shrill.
"You need to calm down!" He screams back, his face warm with anger.
"Rafe, Rafe, Rafe—" Rose grabs onto his shoulders, pulling him away from the door. She puts a finger to her lips, telling him to quiet down, before gesturing upwards to where Cassie stood at the top of the steps and watched. "Go back upstairs. I got it."
She was so scared. Her eyes full of this sort of confusion that he couldn't stand to see anymore. Not confusion of the situation; but of him. Of how he could stand there, and act like that. Just continuously proving he was everything everyone said he was, and everything she wished he wasn't.
He moved quickly up the stairs, meeting her at the top where he tried to meet her gaze. It was delayed, her eyes slowly trailing up from the door Sarah was locked behind before meeting his— so out of it, it was as if she was surprised to see him already in front of her.
"What are you doing?" She asked, as he grabbed on arm to pull her back down the hall.
There was a difference in this from earlier. Earlier he had held her hand to lead her inside. It wasn't a gesture based in control. But this, this forceful grip on her wrist as he tugged against her body, this was different.
"I told you to stay in here." He got out, his mind still preoccupied with Sarah as they reentered his bedroom. He shut the door behind him, rubbing his eyes frustratedly.
"She yelled my name." Cassie spoke calmly, to try and diffuse what was clearly a moment of high stress.
He felt his chest tighten, and his throat begin to close. The way it always did when he got like this. When he got so mad that it physically hurt his body. It clouded his every thought until he was completely unaware of his surroundings. And the only way to rid himself of this pain was through violence, or drugs, or alcohol, and it was this vicious cycle he kept finding himself in, no matter how badly he wanted it to end. No matter how hard he tried to be a good son, or a good brother, things kept ending up out of his control, and he didn't know why or how, it was always him that got so hurt from it all.
Rafe pushed off the door, knowing this anger coursing through his veins was something that wouldn't be diminish on its own. He never let it. He swept the small wooden chest off the fireplace mantle, and turned to go back into his bathroom.
But Cassie stepped in front of him, pushing a less than gentle hand against his chest. It was what it took to stop him from moving any farther.
He seemed surprised to see her standing there, so caught up in his fit of rage that he'd forgotten the fact that she was watching it all.
And when he looked up and saw her, expecting to see those scared eyes all over again, he saw eyes that were begging him to stop.
"Relax." She spoke.
Her voice wasn't gentle, and it wasn't kind, or calm, but it wasn't scared. It wasn't coming from someone who was afraid of him, it was coming from someone who was afraid for him.
He ran a tongue over his bottom row of teeth, like he was trying to replicate the feeling she was keeping him from experiencing behind that bathroom door. Just a quick inhale, and instant relief.
"She saw it." He says, his eyes narrowed and confused, like he was trying to process out his own thoughts as they spilled from his mouth. "Sarah. She saw the body, and it's only a matter of time—"
"That wasn't your fault." Cassie interrupted him.
"You think she gives a shit? Any of them?" Rafe shook his head. "They want someone to pin all of their— fucked up problems on, so badly— they're all gonna jump at the first chance they get, to—" he couldn't get his words out, his mind was racing to fast. "—blame me. And I was so— I was so close to being the one to fix it all."
"There's nothing broken." She spoke. "There's nothing for you to fix right now. Okay? Do you— do you get what I'm saying?"
"Yes there is— you don't understand." He started rubbing his eyes with his knuckles again.
"Then explain it to me." Cassie suggests.
At some point during all of this, Rafe had set down the small chest on the dresser beside him.
"You still have the cross. We're still leaving in an hour." She continues, when Rafe didn't speak.
"I have to get rid of the body." Rafe says, looking up at her.
And the words sent chills down her spine, a sentence she never thought she'd hear in her life. And he could tell it freaked her out, and he wished there was a better way to say it. A better way to go around that truth.
There was this sort of guilt he carried when he was with her. Because he knew that he was being selfish with her. And in the past, he didn't care. He didn't care that he used girls to get what he wanted, he found a sort of pride at how easy it was to manipulate them and toy with their feelings. But it was the fact that he did care with Cassie, that made it so hard for him to stop.