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AFTER A SMALL SURF SESSION down at the beach, another night spent camped up inside the Château, and an early yet rough morning at sea, the Pogues came across empty handed. They had found the shipwreck, but it was vacant. The six hundred million dollars worth of gold was gone.
The group went back to their homes, most of which being the first time in days - one of whom being Renna. As soon as she had pushed open the grand, front door, footsteps trampling down the stairs caught her attention.
"Uh, hello?" She asked with a confused grin as her brother almost tripped down the stairs. He looked up at her, but instead of his eyes latching onto hers like usual, they found themselves trailing across to her cheek.
What happened to your cheek?" He pointed to it sternly. The bruising had gone down to being barely noticeable, so she automatically assumed her brother wouldn't spot it. However, as soon as the words left his mouth, she knew she would have to tell him.
"Nothing, it's fine-" she began to try.
"Was it Topper?" She looked up at him.
"How did you know?" Her voice was low, soft, as if the wind was knocked out of her. She truly didn't know how he could possibly have known.
His face hardened as he trampled down the last of the steps. "That son of a bitch. I'm gon-"
"You're not gonna do anything," Renna uttered quickly, moving across the hall to stop her brother half way. She laid her hands on his shoulders in an attempt to keep him situated. "I can deal with it, okay?"
"But-"
"No buts." The hall went silent. The whole house went silent. "Thank you. You're just as bad as Atticus," she grinned as she moved away from him, giving the boy one last reassuring pat on the shoulder before moving towards the stairs. She had only managed to climb up a few before he stopped her again.
"Can you at least tell me what happened?" Blake asked, turning around so he could look up at his younger sister.
"He saw me after doing a few lines and decided enough was enough for us, I guess," she shrugged, looking down over her shoulder. Her brother faltered once again, staring into the air.
"I'm sorry, he did a few lines? Whose lines?" He questioned immediately whilst walking closer to the bottom of the steps.
"Rafe's, I suppose," she answered quietly.
"Did you have any?"
"What? No, of course not." She shook her head, pushing the image of Rafe trying to convince her out of her mind. She could still feel his tightening grip against her throbbing arm. She could still feel the way Kelce had looked at her from over the couch's back. She could still feel the immense fear lingering in her chest as she inched closer and closer to the powder spread on the table.
