𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙆𝙄𝙇𝙇! • 𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣

six

CHAPTER SIX
[6]
song: a forest by the cure

The curtains add a pink glow to the morning light, a reminder of where he was, who he was with. The floral wallpaper and poster covered walls, the messy dresser with lined up old trophies and nail polish stains. Her room was a clear reflection of her innocence, a peak into her mind and true self, not the front she upholds around everyone else.

Rafe didn't sleep, he wouldn't allow himself to. Too much could happen if he closed his eyes, so with every minute, he planned further.

Summer did. She was turned over on her side. Her cheeks flushed and puffy from the crying, still tear stained from the night before, and her blonde hair a tangled mess as it gently draped over her face.

He admired her as she slept, so completely unaware of everything around her, at peace for only a couple hours until she awoke again. When she did, her bed was empty. The only sign left of Rafe was the smell of his cologne on her sheets.

—

"Nah, nah, the fuck you want now?"

Rafe takes off his helmet, still sitting on his dirt bike that he'd driven right up to Barry's front yard. Around him was piles of old rusted metal sheets, overgrown weeds and plastic lawn chairs surrounding a slowly burning fire.

Barry let the screen door of his trailer slam shut, a bottle of beer in his hand as he approaches Rafe. "I told you I was done with this shit." He says, his single gold tooth glinting from the sun. "And unless you're back for your usual purchases, I suggest you get the fuck up outta here." The usual purchases in question being drugs.

Rafe swung a bag off of his shoulders and reached in, pulling out a thick stack of cash, and throwing it to Barry.

Barry was taken aback, almost dropping it. "Shit, man." He says, examining it.

"I need them off my back." Rafe says, resting his helmet on the seat as he gets off of his bike.

Barry scoffs. "Wasn't that what last night was for?"

Rafe gives him a stern, serious look. "The knife you hid looks like a kid's toy compared to what we used."

Barry lets out a chuckle, sifting through the stack of cash in his hands. "What'd you want me to do, Country Club? Give 'em the real one? That'd work out well for you."

"And you." Rafe warns.

Barry glances up from the cash for a moment, his smug look faltering just slightly. He then leans back, taking in a deep breath before he crosses his arms in front of him and looking at Rafe. "I don't want any part in your crazy shit."

Rafe scoffs, tilting his head to the side a bit before stepping towards him. "You are apart of it. You were apart of it the moment you killed Holly."

"Fuck, man." He laughs. "You're fucking nuts."

"Come on, you've got nothing, bro. The whole town knows that." Rafe taunts. "Don't you wanna make some money?"

Barry didn't answer, too enamored with the cash Rafe would happily slice from his grip if he didn't cooperate.

Rafe twists his jaw, taking in a shaky breath as an attempt to regain patience. "You don't think I'll take you down with me?" He asks after a moment of silence, narrowing his eyes slightly.