Chapter Text
Rafe didn’t know how he ended up in this situation.
Well…he did know. Once again his slew of bad decisions had caught up to him forcing him into a predicament where he drew the short straw.
“I just don’t see how I have anything to do with this,” he muttered, wiping the back of his hand across his nose.
Rafe sat in one of the sagged couches at Lance Donovan’s trap house, on the mainland. He was crouched down low, near the lines of white powder streaking the coffee table, its surface littered with beer bottles, wads of cash, stray cigarette butts and empty shot glasses.
He inhaled another line, sitting up with a sharp exhale of breath, collapsing into the fleshy plush of the seat, “I paid you your 50k…we’re even.”
Rafe was in the company of Lance and his friends. They were not the best people…the beady eyed glint of Lance’s eyes communicating the things he’d done, and was capable of doing. The trap house was bustling with a party, Rafe and the others slotted in a closed off room where business was conducted.
“Even?” Lance questioned, his beady eyes getting even smaller.
It was winter in the Outer Banks, just coming off of January and Rafe regretted not bringing a jacket with him, gooseflesh prickling across his arms despite his long sleeved shirt.
“Yeah— Even.” He said, drawing his mouth into a thin line.
Lance ran his tongue over his teeth with a shark toothed grin. Rafe always thought he looked like a shark. Always sniffing out blood.
“You're funny, kid– coming from your little island to get your hit. Didn’t Barry warn you not to mess with the mainlanders?”
Lance Donovan and his entire operation was a spidering network of drugs, blood and enterprise. That’s who Barry got his stash from. That’s who the entire Kildare County had to thank for the never ending supply of weed. And pills and such if you were into the harder stuff. Rafe didn’t know how old Lance was, with his dark brown hair shorn at the sides and wide set jaw and scruff of a beard. Tattoos slithered up his neck and fingers, and his knuckles were always adorned with heavy rings that could knock your teeth out.
Rafe used to bum bags of coke from old friends until he couldn’t anymore. A couple lines weren’t enough, and Rafe didn’t have it in him to ask Barry. He felt shameful. Disgusting. So he connected with Lance. The guy who Barry sought out to put a hit on Ward.
After Rafe had killed one of Lance’s boys, trying to save his fathers life, he was out fifty thousand dollars in an attempt to settle scores. He thought they were even. Perhaps even on good terms. But now Lance was proposing some bullshit scheme.
Lance put his beer bottle down with a clatter leaning forward resting his elbows on his knees.
“You’re in my house, sitting on my couch, sniffing my coke kid…you think we’re even? Even after you knocked out one of my guys?”
Rafe licked his lips, clamping his molars together. His eyes darted on the ground then back up at Lance, his skin feeling hot. The room became silent, the people watching in bated breath as they waited for either Lance or Rafe to do something.
Lance broke the weighty tension first, erupting into a hearty laugh, pupils turning black.
“You good Rafey boy? Looks like you’re about to puke all over my shit, calm down alright?”
“You son of a bitch,” Rafe exhaled, rubbing his eyes, whilst Lance and the others continued to laugh.
“But I’m still gonna need those crates of coke to be transported, yeah?”
“Lance man— I can’t. I already have the Sheriff on my tail.”
Lance laughed again, “Sheriff— that’s so cute, does he have a badge? A little hat too?”
“Come one man—“
“Look, the way I see it, you either give me another…why don’t we say million, might as well round it up huh?”
“A million dollars?” Rafe spat.
“Exactly…or you could put to use that private jet of yours and take my shit to where it needs to be…yeah? Then we’ll settle it once and for all.”
“I thought it was settled.” Rafe seethed, straining his fingers.
“Yeah well that was before I got this new contact and before I found out you had your own pilot.”
Rafe knew he couldn’t give him a million. Barry would be mad. And no wasn’t an option with Lance.
Do this one thing then you’re out. He told himself. Then he would never come back here again. He found a way to get clean before. He could do it again. Rafe ignored the voice in his head telling him there was no point in him getting clean. Who was there for him to see it? He pushed that bitter inkling away.
“Fine. When is the meeting?”
“Couple days from now, better start packing huh?”
“Where is it even? It better not be somewhere far, my mileage isn’t gonna last forever.”
“Mexico City close enough for ya?”
Rafe’s heart lurched, minding racing to her.
He must’ve been quiet for a while, because Lance raised an eyebrow at his demeanour, “Hey kid, you good?”
Rafe snapped out of whatever trance he fell under and nodded sharply, “yeah, Mexico City’s fine.”
***
He’d taken her out to a fairly nice restaurant. Some fusion place closer to the city than the coast. Sofia sat in a red leathered booth, tapping her foot gently to the music flowing through the speakers. She listened to the guy in front of her speak about the fishing trip he’d taken a week ago. His name was Daniel and he was nice enough, with curling brown hair and a white dimpled smile. Her aunt had set them two up for this date, meeting Daniel at the markets whilst shopping for more linens.
The waiter approached, causing Daniel to pause his story.
“Here’s your bill,” they said, placing the cheque book down on the table.
Sofia reached to grab it, but Daniel was quicker, swiping it away with a smirk.
“Daniel— come on, let me pay for half, at least.” She insisted.
“I’m the one taking you out, Sofia, besides don’t want your Aunt to get a bad impression of me, this is purely selfish,” he joked, handing the waiter some bills.
Sofia laughed softly, examining his face. He had bronze skin, a sharp stubbled jaw and dark eyes. One of his teeth was slightly wonky, giving his smile a sort of lopsidedness that Sofia found endearing.
Her gaze trailed down to the few opened buttons around his neck, revealing a silver chain disappearing down his shirt. She quickly flicked her eyes back up again to find him staring at her.
Sofia felt her cheeks flare red as she scarfed the final sip of her cocktail. She’d noticed Daniel’s eyes change, regarding her with a sharper warmth that made her feel funny.
“Shall we get out of here?” He offered.
Sofia nodded, slipping out the booth and shrugging on her jacket. It was February in Akumal, the off-season for the hotel. Sofia supposed that’s why her aunt felt the need to set her up with Daniel; work had been slow and she’d been holed up alone with her cat for far too long.
Sofia and Daniel left the restaurant, walking to his car that was parked a road away. The night air was cool and streets less populated with the usual traffic of tourists. He offered her an arm, noticing her unsteady gait, (heels and old cobblestone sidewalks not the most perfect of matches) and she accepted with a smile.
After maybe a fifteen minutes drive they reached her apartment, the car silent and dark. Sofia played with the strap of her purse, curling her finger around the warm leather.
She hazarded a look at Daniel, his brown eyes shining and wet, his silver chain glinting in the street light.
“I had fun tonight,” he said, his body positioned towards her.
“Me too.” That was the truth. She did have fun. So why was she suddenly overcome with a frigid panic.
She forced herself to swallow her nerves, locking eyes with Daniel. The nighttime breeze billowed outside the car, serenading the two, their faces inching closer and closer. Daniel chanced a slow hand towards her face, which Sofia allowed, her breath hitching as he brushed a stray hair from her eyes.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, disrupting the quiet. Sofia stilled, her body visibly tensing. Daniel reacted quickly, moving back, but Sofia impulsively breathed out a rushed “yes,” as she leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips.
Daniel’s hand curved around the apple of her cheek, his thumb caressing her face. Sofia tried to melt into the kiss. But she couldn’t. Not when all she could think about was his hands in her hair, his lips on hers.
She pulled away, eyes looking down. Daniel tried to resume, but Sofia settled back in her seat, shoulders slumped, mortification overwhelming her.
“¿Estàs bien?” Daniele asked, face etched in concern.
“Perdón Daniel, I— I thought I was ready…I just want to take things a bit slower.”
“You don’t need to be sorry, that’s completely fine.”
Sofia nodded slowly, unable to make eye contact with him, “thank you for dinner, get home safe.”
She left car hastily and scampered across the road to get to her apartment building a couple metres away. She didn’t once look back at Daniel, embarrassment still bubbling within her.
Once she was in her home, she audibly groaned, eyebrows furrowing as she muttered “what is wrong with you” and “pull yourself together”, stringed together with incoherent mumblings. Sofia kicked off her heels, leaving them scattered in the walkway and made a beeline for the kitchen. Grabbing the opened bottle of wine, she didn’t bother with a glass, taking a long swig whilst she pattered into her bedroom. The plan was to get drunk and forget about how she couldn’t even have a kiss without her mind hurtling towards him.
Daniel was nice. Daniel was hot. Daniel actually wanted her. Her chest began to hurt again. She took another swig.
Sofia wiped the trickle of red that ran down her chin, about to slip out of her dress and into her sheets, before she heard a knock on the door.
Sitting up in bed, Sofia glanced at the clock. It was just after 10 pm…was it Daniel? Did she forget something in the car?
Sofia got up quickly, fixing her hair and smoothening her dress. She slotted the wine bottle in between the gap of her bed and side table and went to open the door, quickly sweeping her heels to the side.
As she peered through the peephole, her body relaxed when she realised it was just her aunt.
“Tía? Is everything ok?” Sofia asked as she opened the door.
Her aunt gave her a quick embrace, kissing both her cheeks, before entering her apartment and taking a seat on the couch.
“Everything is fine Sofi, just checking up on you.”
Sofia switched on some lamps, the room thick with shadow, and took a seat next to Elena.
“Checking up on me?”
“Claro que sí, I just wanted to see how your date went with Daniel?”
“It went great,” Sofia plastered on a smile, subduing the twinge of embarrassment at the memory of her fleeing the car.
“Couldn’t have been that great otherwise Daniel’s car would still be parked outside and you wouldn’t have answered the door,” Elena mused with a grin.
“Tià!” Sofia exclaimed, nudging her gently.
“You should be going out having fun, the hotel is quiet, you should try and find some time for yourself before summer starts again.”
“I do have time— and I do have fun, I just didn’t want to rush into anything too quickly.”
Elena regarded her with an abstruse look, nodding without much conviction, “your mother told me about the boy you met in North Carolina.”
Sofia snapped her head at her aunt, face twisted in an angry confusion, “what?”
“I thought maybe pushing you a bit out there might have helped you get over him,” Elena’s words were soft.
Sofia scoffed, feigning unaffectedness, “I don’t need help, I’m completely over him— and I don’t want you and mama to be talking about my dating life, it’s weird.”
Elena just laughed, her eyes crinkling, “ok if that’s what you say Sofi…I was thinking maybe you could take the weekend to go see your mother, I don’t need much help with the hotel nowadays, and you deserve a break.”
Sofia perked up at her aunt’s offer, “are you sure?”
“Definitely, you can take my car up to Mexico City, go for a little road trip.”
“I’d actually love that.”
“Take as much time there as you want, go have fun, there’s not much to do here in this town, the city will be different.”
“Thank you Tía, for everything.”
“Cómo no.”
“And I’m serious when I say you don’t have to worry about me, I'm fine.”
“I’ll leave you to it then— Buenas noches.”
Elena left, Sofia hugging her at the door. She walked back to her bedroom, dragging her suitcase out from under the bed, forgetting the bottle of wine she’d stashed away, and got ready to pack for her journey to Mexico City.
***
Rafe had set up the flight with the pilot. He was leaving tomorrow. Now all he had to do was tell Barry.
Rafe couldn’t find him back at the trailer, so he headed down to the bar which he usually frequented.
He hated coming to the Cut, with its dingy sidewalks and eyesores which they called houses. And he hated the way people looked at him. With disgust. Mistrust. He supposed it was warranted, but he couldn’t help but feel offended. Rafe stuffed his hands in his pockets. The weather was grey and the wind was cold and fast. The weak sun dappling the streets did nothing to help alleviate the weather.
Rafe swung the door to McCulver’s Bar, scanning the grimy room for Barry. He spotted him at the bar, sipping his drink, eyes glued on the dated television set showing some sports game.
Approaching him, Rafe reciprocated the chary glances being thrown his way from the people surrounding the bar. He thought he dressed less like a kook, ditching the polo shirt for a flannel, and leaving his Moncler jacket in the car. But still he stuck out, which he was grateful for; he never wanted to look like a pogue.
“Yo Barry,” he greeted, sliding onto the barstool beside him.
“Hey country club, what you doin’ in this neck of the woods huh?”
The bartender nodded at Rafe, signalling if he wanted to order.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Rafe gestured towards Barry.
Rafe rubbed his hands together, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, “just needed to tell you something, yeah?”
Barry licked his lips, his cheery demeanour fading quickly when he noticed Rafe’s blown out pupils.
“Go on.”
“I’m gonna be going away for a couple days, so I won’t be here to sort business out.”
The bartender slid the drink over to Rafe.
Barry’s eyes narrowed. “Going where?”
“Mexico City.”
Barry perked up, mouth curving into a smirk, “you finally made up with Sofia then?”
Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed, his chest lurching at her name. “What–? No– what the fuck Barry?”
“Why else would you be going there?” Barry asked, genuinely confused.
Rafe sniffed, tensing his jaw, “I just gotta sort something out.”
“It’s Lance isn’t it? I told you to not mess around with that motherfucker– What’s he making you do?”
“I just gotta move some stuff, he’s got a contact out there. Then after I’ll be out…ok?”
“Move some stuff? You know if you get caught you’re going to jail, then where does that leave me huh?” Barry looked around the bar, his voice lowering an octave. “Where does that leave the gold?”
“It’s one job man, and then I’ll never see him again. And we can focus on what we’re doing ok?”
Barry laughed mirthlessly, finishing the last dregs of his drink, “you’re gonna get yourself killed Rafe,” he mumbled quietly.
“Stop with the dramatics, why don’t you?” Rafe scoffed.
Barry shook his head. “Contact? What fucking contact?”
He felt cornered. The coke was making him jittery and the bar became hot. The cold he felt moments ago was replaced with a sweltering heat. “He said it was someone new.”
Barry leaned in close, “and he’s sending you? You that fucking stupid huh?”
“What do you want me to do huh? Pay him the mil?”
“What mil?”
“It’s either do this or pay him.”
Barry’s face scrunched up, his mouth upturned in confusion, “you already gave him 50k– you’re even.”
Rafe just shook his head slightly, “it’ll be fine Barry.”
“It better be.”
A silence settled between them, Rafe eyeing his untouched drink, its surface reflecting the yellow glare of the overhead lights.
He inhaled a shaky breath. “Imma get clean, you know? After all this shit. Me and Lance will be done. For good this time.”
“Whatever Rafe, I ain’t gonna baby you…when you leavin’?”
“Tomorrow.”
Barry just hummed, eyeing him up and down, “Mexico City huh?”
Rafe nodded.
“What if you run into her?” Barry made sure not to say her name again, after the way he reacted before.
Rafe looked away, picking up his drink and inspecting it, “no chance…she’s like 900 miles away.”
“Oh.”
Barry left after a while, leaving Rafe to pay for his tab. Rafe finished his drink and headed back to his car, thanks to Barry, his mind consumed with thoughts of her.
Before he drove off, Rafe drew up a line on the arm rest, inhaling it quickly in an attempt to dampen his thoughts.
He took the long way home to avoid driving past her house.