RIPTIDE | Rafe Cameron

19. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦

Blood drips from my fingers and no matter how hard I try to scrub it off my skin it doesn't budge. As I scrub more and more viciously the amount of blood on my skin gets worse. But then I stop, turning off the tap, inspecting the skin on my hands.

It's my blood.

There's a bullet wound on each hand, just getting worse and worse, but I don't feel the pain, not physically at least. Just the torment ripping my heart apart. 

My eyes snap open, just a dream, it was just a dream. I rub my eyes, taking in my surroundings, quickly realising that I'm in Rafe's bed.

My head rests against his chest, just like it was when we got into bed. I can't have been asleep that long if we're still in the same position.

I reach over to the bedside table, my movement restricted by Rafe's arm around my waist. I move the alarm clock to allow me to check the time.

It's already midday, meaning I've managed to sleep for over six hours. I didn't even expect to sleep for twenty minutes when I got into Rafe's bed last night. He's still fast asleep, so I carefully pry his hands off of my body, feeling guilty for considering staying in bed all day.

I climb out of the bed, tiptoeing over to the window, opening the curtains and letting the sun deep into the bedroom. Clearly I needed the six hours of sleep because I feel less on edge, the trembling has stopped, my head isn't pounding and for now I can exist while the video reel of what I saw on the tarmac continues to play.

"What time is it?" Rafe mumbles from the bed, startling me slightly.

"Half past twelve," I tell him, turning around to see him burying his head in his pillow.

"We were asleep that long?" He groans, sitting up slowly, pushing his hair back out of his face.

"Yeah, I think I must've needed it." I sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of him.

"And how are you now?"

"I don't know, less exhausted but I still feel it, all of it." I explain, not wanting to expand on the extent of the images that won't stop haunting my brain.

"What do you want to do today?" He asks, as if it's a day as normal as any other.

"Nothing, I just want to stay inside," I sigh, "I don't want people asking me loads of questions about John B, and whether or not I knew he'd do that to the sheriff."

"Hey," He smiles, placing his hand on my leg, "Don't let them get inside your head, it's just you and me."

"I'm not, I'm just not sure I'm up to pretending I'm fine if strangers approach me in the street, you know what people are like around here." I reply.

"I won't let them," He tells me assertively, "You can't stay inside forever because of this."

"I know," I nod as someone knocks on the door.

"Yeah?" Rafe answers, leading the door to open and Ward to walk into the room.

I really don't trust Ward.

"Oh, Sidney, I didn't know you were here," He smiles, still leading me to feel uncomfortable.

"I couldn't sleep last night, and I needed to see Rafe," I explain, "You know, because he couldn't make it to the police station."

I glance at Rafe to see him smirking to himself at my response before looking back at his father with a straight face, "What did you want?"

"Sarah needs some space to calm down, she's still struggling with coming to terms with what John B did," He explains to us.