The HMS Pogue makes it to the docks quickly after that. Almost everyone is high off of adrenaline from the tense events still fresh in our minds. I'm the last one off the boat, ignoring JJ's attempt to be funny by holding his hand out like a servant.

    The second my foot hits the dock, the wind clears my hair from my face, allowing for the silhouette of my mother standing at the end of the dock to become visible.

    No one else seems to notice her, all too excited to see what treasure John B stole from what I assume is Scotters missing boat.

    "I gotta go guys," I almost whisper, stepping away from the group without protest and slowly walking towards my mother. My mum is a complicated woman, I love her more than anything in this world, she has always been my provider and career even when it wasn't easy. But, my mother never had her own chance at a stable home and normalcy, now that her husband has given her a shred of it, nothing is spared from sacrifice if it comes to it, not even my needs and wants.

    I can't hate her for it, no matter how much I try. Every time the rage bubbles over I picture her as a baby, standing in front of me wishing her mother could give her the life she's somewhat given me. It's hard to hate a traumatised person, even worse when you'd stop breathing if it meant they could heal slightly.

    "Phoebe," She smiles softly at me, her eyes portraying a level of sympathy I try to ignore, hating what usually comes next.

    "Hi, Mum," I smile back, the warmth spreading through my body as I smell her perfume. I have a soft spot for my mother, one that would never harden.

    She nods behind her, gesturing to the tinted car sitting and waiting for us. I instinctively walk towards it, recognising the car and knowing the Mini Cooper I took is more than likely already back at home. As I reach the car, I open the door and turn back to the four teens on the dock, making eye contact with John B who is already looking my way. He smiles softly which I return. Maybe we can fix our relationship after this.

    I mean, nothing is more bonding than being shot at in the marsh.

    Looking away, I silently climb into the backseat. My eyes settle on the back of Linus's head where not a single hair is in a spot he didn't want it to be. Everything is so orderly, down to the creases of the chairs not having a molecule of dust or debris in them. I hate it, hate the tidiness and upkeep, I crave mess and disorder because of it. I will never fit into the scenes he creates in his head.

    He doesn't say a word to me as he starts the car, leaving the cut and heading towards our home on Figure Eight. I'm surprised he made the journey out to the cut, I don't think he's ever actually been on this side of the island before and didn't think he was ever going to.

    Whatever it is that made him, must be serious.

    Almost as soon as we turn into our street, as if an unknown barrier had been crossed, Linus speaks, "Deputy Shoupe called me not too long ago,"

    "Good for you? Gossip at all?" I ask sarcastically, knowing exactly what Shoupe said and what the consequences will be. I don't care if they become worse by my attitude.

    "Plenty," He responds, turning silently into our driveway as the gates close behind us.

    He soon pulls up into the garage, turning to my mother who only sends him a pleading look in return. "Charlize," He warned her.

    She drops her defences, forcing herself not to look at me as she silently gets out of the car, her steps slowing the closer she gets to the house. Eventually, she crosses the threshold into the house and shuts the door, my eyes watching her the whole way.

    "What were you doing out on the marsh with those kids?" He asks calmly, his dark eyes meeting mine through the rear-view mirror. I feel the urge to scoot over to one of the side seats but I know he hates when people don't sit in the middle. All I want to do is go inside and go to bed.

    "Kiara? Oh, we were just-"

    "No, not Kiara. The boys. Heyward's son, I can see a possible business stemming from that but that Maybank boy? This family doesn't associate with people like them," He declares, turning from the mirror to look at me directly in the eyes.

    I scoff, rolling my eyes and turning to look out the window, "Family? What a joke,"

    Before I know it, my cheek begins stinging from the slap Linus swiftly lands on my face. The unexpectedness of it all leaves me unprepared for such a hit. I know better than to react with more than a slight hiss and to squeeze my eyes. I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back tears from the pain, turning back to him as he readjusts himself in his seat. "What would Rafe think of that sort of behaviour, Phoebe?"

    Who gives a shit what Rafe thinks.

    "I'm not sure, I haven't spoken to him today," I admit, knowing he will make me go there to speak to Rafe which sounds a lot better than staying in this car and this house any longer.

    "Maybe you should go over there. Apologise for your absence, yes?" He tells me rather than suggests. I nod, keeping my head down as I open the door and begin to slide out. "Take the Mini. Consider it yours,"

    I resist the urge to tell him to shove it up his ass, instead forcing myself to calmly get out of the car. I gently shut the door that I so badly want to slam hard enough to weld it shut. I walk like a soldier to the Mini on the other end of the garage, grabbing the keys from inside the unlocked car and starting the engine as fast as I can.

...

    The way to the Cameron house might as well be engraved on the back of my eyelids. I've been there enough times to be able to sleepwalk there without an issue. I know I have to go there, Linus will check up on my whereabouts under the disguise of being a caring father figure.

    Rafe's father, Ward, has always been better than Linus. He cares for his children the way I'm not used to seeing, a deep undying gratitude and oath to them that can't be squandered. 

    I've always wanted a father like him, the way he easily took me under his wing and could see the hurt I hid warmed my heart to him.

    So, when he opens the door to me and I'm met with his soft stare, it takes everything in me not to fall into his arms crying. But I won't, I have never shown that side to anyone and I don't intend to. Especially not to someone Linus considers a friend.

    "Hey, Phoebe. Let me guess, here for Rafe?" He asks, a grin spreading across his face as he opens the door wider for me to step through.

    I laugh, shrugging my shoulders as I enter the foyer of the Cameron house. "You know me too well, Ward,"

    He stops, eyes zoning in on my cheek. "You been outside a lot today? I think you're a little sunburnt,"

    "Oh, yeah. I was gardening with my mum for a few hours. Should have listened to her and wore my sunscreen," I laugh awkwardly, swaying on my feet and turning towards the staircase where I spot Rafe standing at the top, looking down at me with hopeful eyes. "I'll talk to you later, Ward,"

    "As always, nice seeing you, Phoebe!" He calls after me.

    I look away from Rafe, brushing past him when we meet at the top of the staircase. I don't need to see him or hear him to know he is closely following behind me to his bedroom. Soon enough, I enter the room and move to his bed where I begin to peel the slightly damp t-shirt and shorts from my body, the clothes that got sprayed on the boat earlier. 

    I look up to Rafe, watching as he grabs a t-shirt from his closet and moves to hand it to me.

    It's nighttime at this point, the moonlight shining in through his open blinds and hitting the side of his face. The closer he gets to me, the clearer his features become until he's right in front of me, lifting the t-shirt up and towards me as if to put it on me himself.

    He is just trying to be nice, I know. But the images of how he behaved at the boneyard force themselves into my head and force me to snatch the clothes from his hands, lifting it over my head myself.

    "Phoebe, I-"

    "Save it," I stop him, holding a hand up but still keeping my head turned from him. He values eye contact, to him it represents trust and respect and I won't give that to him. Not now. "You know I'm not here out of free will,"

    He pauses, letting the room sink into silence. I take the opportunity to move towards the window in the room, dropping down onto the armchair near it. I see him turn around, staring at me with sad puppy-dog eyes before he rushes over to me, dropping to his knees in front of me and smiling sadly, "I'm glad you're here, anyway,"

    "Seriously?" I raise an eyebrow, looking down at him. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike how he felt at the boneyard. He is always capable of switching like this, going back and forth between caring and cruel. He is never what I want him to be in the moment. "You almost let my brother drown because you were upset with me,"

    "I know, I know," He admits, his head chasing my eyes in an attempt to stay in my direct line of vision. "I shouldn't have done that,"

    Rafe does this thing that he thinks I can't notice. He talks apologetically and sympathetically enough that he doesn't ever actually say the words 'I'm sorry' or any other form of apology. I always let it slide, rather the conversation just die than for me to keep demanding to hear words that will never be for me.

    I look down at him, his gentle gaze causing me to fight against my lip wanting to quiver. I feel so exhausted. Between the lines exiting my system, the gun chase and Linus, the earth can't swallow me up soon enough.

    He takes the opportunity of my silence to lean forward, placing a chaste kiss on my lips that I'm too emotionally drained to fight off. In his mind, I know he thinks I reciprocate it with as much energy and feeling as he gives me. He always manages to believe whatever he wants is real.

    He pulls back, rubbing his thumb up and down my un-damaged cheek, purposely ignoring the redness of my other.

    "I'm tired, Rafe," I tell him, waiting as he pushes himself to stand and walks around to the bed, pulling the covers back and rearranging things to how I like to sleep.

    I almost stumble over to the bed, falling into the rich silk and fibres present in almost every house in Figure Eight. It doesn't even bother me when I feel him crawling into bed next to me, throwing his arm around my waist. I use the last of my strength to push myself away.

    Rafe Cameron is used to getting what he wants. From physical objects like drugs, to metaphorical things like power and especially me. He just takes and receives and doesn't see any problem with his mindset or lifestyle. He doesn't see himself as taking advantage of my situation in order to gain access to me, he sees himself as my hero, a saviour of someone beaten down and lost. But, he's not. If anything, he adds to my already shitty situation.

    "You know I love you, Phoebe," Rafe whispers, sending a shiver down my spine. Despite me never saying it back and never intending to, he tells me that every day.

    He takes my silence as an indentation, slowly reaching for my chin and turning me around to face him. I give in quickly when he presses his lips against mine, wanting to feel some sort of comfort and love even if it's from him. I feel him smile against me, pushing me once more until I'm flat on my back and he's on top of me, showing me in warmth and artificial comfort.

    I miss when he was just my friend, if he ever was.

                    The next morning, I quickly changed back into my now-dry clothes and left before Rafe woke up. It felt cruel, like I was using him or something. But, he knew what the whole situation was and it's not like he wasn't doing the same.

    I make it home as the sun finishes rising, pulling my Mini into the driveway while yawning when I spot a familiar beat-up hippie van in the driveway.

    "Is that the Twinkie?" I mutter to myself, thinking back to John B's shitty van he used to write to me about. The closer I get to the house, the more I can make out the shape of two teenage boys walking up the steps to my front door, talking to each other as they're about to knock on the door.

    Quickly, I pull up beside the Twinkie and wave both John B and JJ over, attempting to stop them from disturbing my Mum and her husband. He was in a shit mood last night I can't imagine how he'd feel being woken up so early, especially by 'dirty pogues' as he calls them.

    "What the hell are you doing here?" I ask aggressively, getting out of my expensive car and shutting the door behind me. JJ whistles, taking in the vehicle behind me as he walks up to it and runs his palm along the polished exterior.

    "She's beautiful," JJ pretends to cry from beside me, causing me to roll my eyes in annoyance.

    "I was thinking-"

    "We were thinking," JJ's loud correction causes me to turn in his direction. As soon as I make eye contact with him, he winks and swiftly turns back to admiring the car I now own.

    "Yes, thank you JJ," John B sarcastically thanks. "We were thinking, after yesterday, you might wanna come hang? Do something with us?"

    "And what is this something?" I question, eyeing him suspiciously. Now that I know JB is completely fine with robbing a shipwreck of a possible dead man, I have no idea what he'll have in mind. Speaking of the boat "What did you find in that boat anyway?"

    He smirks at me, pulling something out of his pocket and flashing it in my direction, "This,"

    I peek down at his palm, noticing the bronze, faded metal shaped like a circle in his palm. I gasp, mouth falling open slightly at the sight of it. "Is that Dad's compass?"

    John B nods, his grin spreading wider at my recognition and excitement.

    "I'm so in. Give me a couple minutes. I'll be right out," I announce, turning to my house and jogging up the steps.