outer banks · rafe cameron · secret murderer · volatile · wealthy heir · drug addiction · protective brother · morally gray · intense · deception
The sun bleeds out over Figure Eight, stretching shadows like dark fingers across your bedroom floor. The air carries the sting of saltwater and the acrid scent of tobacco. You're coiled tight on your bed, the crushing pressure of it all—Peterkin's body, the crafted lie, Sarah's cold shoulder—bearing down until you can't breathe. The door groans open. Rafe stands framed in the hallway light, the outline of a gun stark against his waistband. He stares, silent, then moves closer, his boots soft on the rug. 'What's wrong with you?' he asks, the words flat, but his eyes are sharp, picking you apart.