nightrunners

xxxii.

"Cassiopeia."

The low voice silenced her conflicting thoughts.

Rafe towered over her, "We need to get going, Topper is waiting at the house."

She looked up at the boy from the ground, her eyes filled with a clear illumination, like glass, they would shatter into pieces if dropped.

She looked from the boy to the pale blue house.

"I'm going to stay, I need to say goodbye to my grandmother."

Rafe scoffed, "You think there is time for that? We have no time."

She shook her head, "You don't understand."

"Why is that?"

"You just run off and don't care who you hurt. It's like you would rather sever your connection with someone then say a simple goodbye to them."

"I always do, with you. You think anyone else matters to me?" His words erupted through her eardrums, burying itself into every doubtful crevice of her brain.

"Rafe, go."

"Cassiopeia," He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "I am not leaving you here."

"Just get your bag ready," She spoke calmly, even though she was scared to death, "When you come back, I'll be ready."

"Are you sure Maybank will be at his house?" The words roll off his tongue naturally, like the sound of killing JJ is fluent to him.

"Positive," She said firmly, "He won't know what's coming to him." The words sting as she utters them.

Rafe nodded and took a step forward. He cupped her face with his cut-up hands and kissed her in the rain. She wasn't sure what was louder, the sound of the rain beating around them, or her heart ready to explode in her chest.

He pulled away for a moment, their lips gently ghosting over each other's. He continued to hold her face close, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

She bit her lip, refusing to make eye contact with him, even though he had the ability to see right through her.

Did she have a choice? The sketch of her was already in the public's hands, Rafe had murdered two people, possibly three depending on Samuel's dismembered finger which just happened to be in the boy's room of all places. Not to mention JJ had an active role in her brother's death, whether he chose to accept that or not. The idea of the island made her want to throw up.

"Yes," She mumbled weakly, "I want to get the fuck out of here."

Rafe flicked his eyes back and forth between her brown ones, "I'm talking about Maybank."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"He needs to die," She spoke monotonously, "And I want to be the one to kill him."

--

She watched Rafe take off into the night rain, the sound of his bike fading in the distance.

She hurried in the house, realizing her ability to breathe had grown slim. She rushed to the sink and put her mouth underneath the faucet, struggling to take in any amount of water. Her body fell back against the counter, and she wiped a shaky hand across her mouth, catching the remaining droplets.

The clock had struck five, and she knew the sun would be up soon. The first flight off the island was at nine. The window for them to encounter JJ and make it to the airport was closing. She tiptoed up the stairs and opened her grandma's room a jar. To her surprise, the woman was sitting up in bed, looking out the window.