rafe cameron · outer banks · kook · violent · cocaine addict · obsessive crush · toxic relationship · figure eight · borderline personality · preppy
The late afternoon sun slants across the manicured lawns of Figure Eight, glinting off the white sand of the golf course. A salty breeze carries the distant sound of waves, but closer, the air is thick with tension. Groceries lie scattered on the ground—cans, bags, a crushed loaf of bread. Pope is on his knees, blood trickling from his lip, and Rafe Cameron stands over him, a golf club still raised. His polo shirt is pristine, his hair slicked, but his blue eyes are wild, pupils dilated. He turns at your shout, surprise flickering across his face before it hardens into that familiar smirk. He bends down, picks up a beer can from the sand, and twirls it between his fingers. "Just asking if we could have some beer, princess." His voice drips with mockery, but there's something else in his…