▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

rafe: i can still taste you on
my lips. i need more, baby

imani: but you already did
hours ago. and we've been
doing it almost every day

rafe: exactly. that was too
long ago

imani: you're insatiable

rafe: only when it comes
to you

imani: you need a hobby
or something

rafe: you are my hobby.
now, be a good girl and
let me see you tonight

imani: and if i don't? 

rafe: then bad girls get
punished

Imani sat cross-legged on her bed, her phone glowing softly in her hand. The teasing texts from Rafe still lingered on the screen, her lips twitching at his last flirty remark. She was about to type a response when the door to her room flew open with a loud bang.

"Imani!" Kiara's voice jolted her, making her fumble and quickly lock her phone. She straightened up, clearing her throat, trying to look nonchalant. 

"What's up?" Imani asked, her tone a little too casual as she leaned against her pillows, hoping Kiara hadn't noticed anything suspicious. 

Kiara crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at her older sister. "What were you doing?" 

"Nothing," Imani said quickly, brushing off the question with a wave of her hand. "What's going on with you?" 

Kiara sighed but allowed the subject to drop, plopping down at the edge of Imani's bed. "I drove back with Mom and Dad, and they weren't even talking to each other. Like, not a single word." 

Imani leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through her hair. "What happened this time?" she asked with a sigh, already bracing for the drama. 

Before Kiara could answer, raised voices echoed from downstairs. Both girls froze, their eyes meeting as they strained to hear. The arguing grew louder, and without a word, they both slid off the bed and padded out of the room. Sitting at the top of the staircase, they peered down toward the source of the commotion. 

"I don't want them near the girls, Anna!" Mike's voice was sharp, tinged with frustration. 

"How many times do I have to say it? They've changed, Mike," Anna shot back, her voice just as heated. "They're trying to make things right. Why can't you see that?" 

Mike let out a sharp laugh, one filled with bitterness. "Changed? Oh, come on. They've hated me since day one. Do you really think this is about the girls? Or is this about them trying to control you again?"

Imani and Kiara exchanged a knowing look. It wasn't hard to figure out who their parents were arguing about: their grandparents. 

Anna's tone softened, though it was still defensive. "They were wrong, I know that. But they've apologised—" 

The backstory wasn't new, though it still stung every time it came up. Their grandparents had disowned Anna when she got pregnant with Imani at 18. They didn't approve of Mike, a Pogue who lived on the other side of the island, far from the privilege and prestige of Kook life. Anna had been kicked out of her family's home and left to make it on her own with Mike. 

Imani didn't remember those early years, but her mom had told her stories: how they'd scraped by, living in a small apartment, working odd jobs just to make ends meet. For the first two years of her life, they'd been Pogues through and through, struggling. 

Eventually, things changed when Mike's restaurant, The Wreck, started turning a profit. It became their ticket to a better life, earning Mike grudging respect from the Kooks.

While Kiara was born as a Kook, Imani was born as a Pogue and even then, some still looked down on them at school, reminding them where they came from. 

It wasn't until after Kiara was born that Anna's parents tried to reconcile, though their disdain for Mike never faded. Every visit came with subtle digs at him, thinly veiled under polite conversation. 

"I don't know why Mom even lets them back in," Kiara muttered, pulling Imani from her thoughts. "They're the worst." 

Imani shrugged. "They're her parents. She probably still wants their approval, even after everything." 

Kiara scoffed. "Approval from them? All they do is flaunt their money and make Dad feel like crap. They don't even try to hide it." 

They had only met their grandparents a handful of times, but their impression was consistent: they were the quintessential rich snobs who flaunted their wealth and looked down on others. Yet, oddly enough, they'd always been sweet to the sisters, showering them with gifts and polite smiles. It was a strange dichotomy, one neither of them could fully figure out.

"Still," Imani said quietly, "I don't blame Dad for not wanting them around." 

Downstairs, the argument continued, but the sisters didn't need to hear more. They shared another glance, both silently acknowledging the complicated mess that was their family.

━━━━━━━━━━

Imani, Kiara, and Anna stood outside the grand, sprawling estate that had once been their mother's childhood home. The house loomed large and stately, with manicured hedges and a cobblestone driveway that seemed almost too perfect. The sisters exchanged a look, a silent acknowledgment of the uneasy familiarity. They'd only been here a handful of times, and every visit felt more awkward than the last.

Their grandparents had long gone left OBX, having moved to the upper east side of New York, but occasionally vacationing at OBX, today was one of those days.

"You okay?" Imani asked under her breath. 

"I'm sneaking out in a bit," Kiara muttered,

Their eyes scanned the stream of guests walking in and out of the house, dressed in sharp, expensive outfits. Music and chatter spilled out from inside, carrying the distinct air of a wealthy Kook gathering. 

"Guess there's a party," Kiara rolled her eyes.

"Seems like there always is whenever they're in town," Imani replied dryly.

Anna smoothed her dress, her movements stiff and unsure, as if she were trying to brace herself. Mike hadn't joined them. He hadn't even tried. The fallout from the argument the night before still hung heavy in the air, and Anna's decision to bring the girls against his wishes had only deepened the rift.

"Let's go," Anna said finally, forcing a smile.

Inside, the party was in full swing. Crystal glasses clinked, and waiters in white shirts weaved between groups with trays. Imani felt instantly out of place, tugging at the hem of her dress. 

Then, she saw them. 

"Imani! Kiara!" A bright, overjoyed voice rang out, cutting through the hum of conversation. Imani turned to see her grandparents approaching them—Margaret and William. 

Margaret, her perfectly styled brunette bob gleamed under the light of the chandelier in the foyer, and her tailored cream dress looked like it cost more than Imani's entire wardrobe. William was tall and silver-haired, his tailored suit impeccably pressed.

"Oh, my babies!" Margaret dramatically exclaimed, rushing forward with open arms. She kissed Kiara on both cheeks before turning her attention to Imani. Her sharp blue eyes scanned her up and down, and her expression twisted into something that hovered between adoration and judgment.

"Oh, Imani," Margaret said with a concerned frown, her manicured fingers brushing Imani's cheek. "You look... malnourished, darling. Are you eating enough? You're so thin." 

Imani let out a nervous laugh, shrugging awkwardly as her grandmother fussed over her, straightening her dress and brushing her hair back like she was five years old.

"I'm fine, Nan," Imani said lightly, but Margaret wasn't finished.

"Does Mike not feed my grandbabies?"

Imani opened her mouth to respond, but Anna was quicker. "Mom, they're fine," she said, her voice firm. "Mike is a good father. He's always made sure they have everything they need." 

"Anna," William said coolly, giving his daughter a once-over. "Still so... spirited, I see."

Kiara's jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Kiara," Anna said quickly, giving her daughter a warning look. 

Kiara huffed but stayed silent, though Imani could feel the tension radiating off her sister. But, she didn't say anything. She just watched, her gaze drifting to her mother.  For the first time, she saw Anna differently. She wasn't just their strong-willed, sometimes overly protective mom—she was also a daughter standing under the weight of her parents' scrutiny.

It was like seeing herself through a mirror.

Her mother's eyes darted nervously between her parents and her daughters, and for a moment, Imani's heart ached. 

For all the strength Anna had shown her daughters over the years, it was clear this house still held a power over her—a reminder of the little girl who had grown up under her parents' judgmental gaze.

William waved a dismissive hand. "Let's not make this a thing," his tone was airy. "We're just so glad you're all here. Now come, let's introduce you to a few people." 

━━━━━━━━━━

Imani tried to look engaged, her smile polite but hollow. Her grandmother was cooing over her, asking about school, while her grandfather stood with a glass of scotch in hand, nodding approvingly at the conversation. 

But Imani's mind was elsewhere. Her gaze drifted around the room, trying not to make it obvious that Kiara had slipped away somewhere, likely avoiding the suffocating presence of their grandparents.

"So, darling, what will you study when you go to college?" Margaret asked, the question light but with an underlying sense of expectation. 

Imani opened her mouth, ready to give the answer that had been rehearsed in her head for months. "Archi—"

"She's applied for medicine," Anna cut her off, smiling at Imani like she was confirming something that had already been decided. "Right, sweetie?"

"What?" Imani whispered.

"We discussed this with your father, remember?" 

Imani's throat tightened, her stomach twisting as the words hit her like a punch in the gut. Medicine. It was what her mother wanted for her, what her father had pushed for, what they had all talked about at the dinner table. But it wasn't what Imani wanted. Architecture felt right to her, something that combined art with structure, creativity with logic. 

She forced a tight smile, nodding stiffly. "Yeah, that's right." She swallowed hard, her chest tightening as she tried to make it sound like it was her idea.

William beamed, oblivious to the knot in Imani's stomach. "Good, good. I'll put in a word for you at one of the best colleges in New York," he said, his voice full of authority. "You'll love it there. And you could always live with us. It's the best environment for a bright young mind like yours." 

Imani nodded stiffly, her face betraying nothing but a tight, practiced smile. Inside, though, she felt like she was crumbling. 

She had learned long ago how to play this part. Being the eldest daughter came with expectations she had never asked for, a responsibility she hadn't chosen but had accepted all the same. Between her and Kiara, she had always been the sensible one, the responsible one, the one her parents could count on.

Kiara was the dreamer, the free spirit, the one who could get away with rolling her eyes or walking off mid-conversation.

Imani didn't have that luxury. 

The truth was she had to be perfect—just like her parents had always wanted. 

She had to see the pride in her parents' faces, to know that her efforts had paid off.

Her mind flicked back to those early years when her parents had struggled. Neither of them had gone to college. Her mother had given up that dream years ago when she chose to keep Imani and marry Mike. And Mike had his own struggles, working his way up from a Pogue background, trying to fit into a world that didn't always accept him. 

Imani knew that college—any college—was a dream for her parents. They wanted at least one of their children to graduate, to walk across that stage and have a degree to show for it. They needed that validation. Imani understood that.

And that was the hardest part: knowing her parents' dreams were tied to her success, and knowing that Kiara would never feel the same pressure. Kiara had already made it clear she had no intention of going to college, and no one seemed surprised by it.

She thought of all the times she had overheard her mom or dad saying how proud they were of her, and the way it had filled her with both warmth and dread. Warmth because their validation meant everything, and dread because it reminded her that she could never falter, never slip, or she would let them down.

She was a girl who craved for academic validation.

Imani had to carry that weight for both of them. It wasn't fair, but it was her role, her responsibility.

The weight of that expectation was suffocating, but she never let it show. Imani had learned how to hide this part of herself, tucking it away behind her polished exterior. To everyone else, she was calm, composed, and capable—the girl who had it all together.

She hid it well, though. No one saw the late nights she spent studying until her eyes burned, or the quiet panic that gnawed at her when her grades weren't perfect. The way she would cry herself to sleep at night when nothing was to her perfection.

Not even Rafe saw this part of her and she planned to keep it that way.

"Imani's always been such a hard worker," Margaret was saying, her voice full of approval. "You must be so proud, Anna." 

Anna smiled, and Imani could feel her mom's hand briefly touch her shoulder. "We are. She's our star." 

Imani kept her tight smile as the words echoed in her mind. Their star. The perfect daughter. The perfect student. The one who had to make it.

But she couldn't say it. Not here. Not ever. Because the truth was, it didn't matter what Imani wanted. It mattered what her parents wanted for her. And for them, she would do anything—even if it meant breaking herself in the process. 

━━━━━━━━━━

Rafe leaned against the stone pillar outside, the smoke from his cigarette curling in the cool evening air. He let the bitter taste linger on his tongue, his mind replaying his argument with Ward this morning and the tension still clinging to him.

His thoughts were a mixture of annoyance and boredom—he didn't want to be here. The whole thing felt like another chore.

"You took your damn time, didn't you?"

The voice broke through his thoughts, when Ward approached, his gait stiff and authoritative.

Rafe barely turned his head, exhaling a puff of smoke. "Didn't know there was a timer."

Ward's gaze flicked to the cigarette, his expression hardening. "Put it out," he said flatly.

Rafe rolled his eyes, flicking the cigarette to the ground and grinding it out beneath his heel, though he wasn't happy about it. But Ward had a way of controlling every part of his life, and Rafe didn't have the energy to argue.

"Let's go," Ward said curtly, turning on his heel and heading back toward the house. Rose was close behind him, looking as polished and pristine as ever. Sarah trailed just a step behind Rafe, and they both made their way inside with the crowd.

"This is so pointless," Sarah muttered as they stepped inside.

Rafe rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it."

But as he moved through the room, someone caught his eye.

Imani.

She stood by her grandparents, surrounded by a handful of strangers who were hanging on to her grandmother's every word. Rafe's gaze zeroed in on her, and for a moment, he couldn't look away.

There was a faraway look in her eyes as she listened to her grandmother gush, and Rafe knew that expression well. It was the same one he wore when he tuned everything out. The same one that told him she wasn't really here, not in any way that mattered. 

He watched, transfixed, as Margaret boasted loudly about Imani, her voice high and almost obnoxious as she praised her granddaughter to the strangers around them. Rafe could practically hear the words in his head—"She's so brilliant. So well-behaved. You must be so proud of her. She's going places." 

The way Imani stood there, her posture straight but her eyes glazed over, was too familiar to Rafe. He knew the feeling—the one where the world was swirling around you, but all you could do was tune it out. It was a reflex, an escape. It made him wonder what she was thinking.

It was the first time Rafe saw this side of her.

He wanted to move toward her, to break through the crowd of people and make her snap out of her stupor, to make her notice him. But he couldn't, not here, not with everyone watching. So instead, he lingered at the edge of the room, his eyes constantly flicking back to her.

And then, she caught his gaze. 

Imani's eyes locked with his, and for a moment, everything else in the room faded. A small, tentative smile tugged at her lips. Rafe's hand twitched, as if he were about to signal her, to give her some sign to come to him, to do something—anything—but then, something snapped in his gut. 

He watched as Margaret, with that same overbearing enthusiasm, introduced Imani to a guy standing beside her. 

"Darling," Margaret said, practically shoving the guy toward Imani, "this is Nathaniel. He's a med student, first year. You two should talk, get to know each other a bit. We'll leave you alone for a moment." 

Rafe's blood boiled instantly. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing as he watched the guy step in front of Imani, speaking to her with that overly confident smile.

And Imani... she was smiling back. 

A flash of possessiveness surged through Rafe like an electric shock, his fists clenching at his sides. 

No. 

Imani was his

She wasn't supposed to be smiling at some other guy, not like that, not the way she would smile at him when they were alone.

This... Nicholas or whatever his name, this stranger, had no right to be standing in front of her. 

To be even breathing the same air as her.

His thoughts were a tangle of anger and desire. He didn't even realise he was staring at them, his gaze fixated on the way the guy leaned in, talking animatedly as Imani listened politely, her smile still in place. 

She's only being nice, he told himself, though it did nothing to calm the fire building inside him. She's just being polite.

But Rafe couldn't shake the feeling. Every time they guy said something, every time Imani laughed or nodded. his fingers dug into his palm, and for a moment, Rafe considered just walking over, pulling Imani away from the conversation, claiming her presence like it was his to take.

No. He couldn't do it.

He won't.

He shouldn't.

He can't.

Fuck it.

Before he even realised what he was doing, Rafe was moving, cutting through the crowd until he was standing right in front of them.

"Hey, baby," he said, his voice low and smooth taking Imani by surprise.

"What the hell?" She whispered so he could only hear.

Rafe's eyes locked onto the guy. "You gonna introduce me to your new friend?"

Nathaniel glanced at him, startled, but extended a hand. "Nathaniel. Nice to meet you."

Rafe took his hand, his grip firm—too firm. He watched with satisfaction as Nathaniel winced, trying to pull away.

"Nice to meet you, Neil."

"It's Nathaniel."

"I don't care."

Imani rolled her eyes, subtly pinching Rafe's arm. "Rafe," she said under her breath, her tone warning.

Rafe finally let go, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. "So, how do you know Imani?"

Nathaniel adjusted his watch, clearly thrown off. "Oh, uh, our families know each other. I'm just on vacation, visiting for a week."

"Fascinating," Rafe's voice was dripped with sarcasm.

Nathaniel hesitated, then asked, "And how do you two know each other?"

Rafe didn't miss a beat. "She's my girl," he said, his voice calm but firm, his gaze boring into Nathaniel's.

Imani choked on her drink, her eyes widening in shock. "Rafe—" she started, but he ignored her.

Nathaniel's confident smile faltered, his eyes darting between them as he took a step back. "Oh... I didn't realise. I'm sorry, man, I didn't mean—"

Rafe cut him off, his voice dropping lower. "Get out of my face before I do something you won't like," he said coldly. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "And trust me, you don't want that. Imani doesn't like it when I hurt myself," he gave a brief glance to Imani. "Isn't that right, baby?"

Nathaniel stammered an apology before practically bolting, disappearing into the crowd.

Imani glared at Rafe, her lips pressed into a tight line. "We were just talking," she hissed, her voice low enough not to draw attention.

Rafe shrugged, his lips curving into a pout. "Didn't like the way he was looking at you."

"You need to control yourself," she muttered, crossing her arms as she glanced around, making sure no one had overheard.

Rafe leaned closer. "Maybe. But you're mine, and he needed to know that."

━━━━━━━━━━

Rafe snuck down the hallway, careful not to be noticed by anyone, his footsteps muffled against the floor. He knew the party was in full swing, and everyone was distracted, which gave him the perfect opportunity to find Imani who had been ignoring him.

He reached the bathroom door, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and gently pushed it open.

Imani stood at the mirror, adjusting her makeup with precision, her focus entirely on herself. The door creaked as it shut behind him, and he grinned when he saw her jump, her body going rigid in surprise.

"What the hell, Rafe?" she scolded, voice laced with sarcasm. "What if I was actually peeing?"

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Won't stop me from coming in."

Imani rolled her eyes but didn't turn around, instead, continuing to fix her makeup. Rafe couldn't help but watch her. As she leaned in closer to the mirror, he couldn't resist stepping up behind her, his body closing the distance between them.

"You're ignoring me."

"You were being dramatic."

"I'm sorry."

"You're lying."

"I am."

He moved her hair aside gently, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her neck. As he pressed his lips to the delicate spot just below her ear, he felt her shiver, a giggle escaping her lips as she squirmed in his hold.

"Rafe, stop it," she said, a mix of amusement and annoyance in her voice, though her body betrayed her. Her hands went to the counter for balance as she shifted, trying to wiggle out of his touch, but he didn't relent.

"I don't think I will," he muttered, pressing his lips to the same spot again, this time a little harder, feeling the way her pulse quickened beneath his mouth. "Can't a man worship his woman?"

"Rafe—"

"How many guys is your grandma trying to set you up with, huh?" He muttered between kisses. "Better be ready with that bail money once i'm done with them."

Imani smirked at his reflection in the mirror, her eyes meeting his through the glass. "Jealous, are we?" she teased, her voice low and playful.

Rafe didn't answer right away. Instead, his hand slid up to her neck, his fingers lightly tightening around it, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who was in control. He pulled her back against his chest, his lips brushing against the side of her neck as he whispered, "You belong to me. Don't forget that."

Imani's breath hitched as she locked eyes with him in the mirror, her gaze filled with something darker, something more dangerous. She shifted slightly, purposefully rubbing herself against him, her body responding to him in ways he couldn't hide.

Rafe's grip on her neck tightened, a groan escaping his lips. "Imani... stop playing with me," he muttered, his voice rough, betraying the control he was desperately trying to maintain.

She looked at him innocently, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "I'm not doing anything," she said sweetly, her voice laced with false innocence. 

Rafe's eyes narrowed. "You're doing everything, baby," he said through gritted teeth, his hand moving down to her waist, pulling her even closer, his voice commanding. "Stop it."

Imani just smirked, a wicked glint in her eyes as she leaned back into him, making him fight for control.

Rafe's hand wrapped around her hair, pulling her head back, enough to tilt her face towards his as he leaned down, muttering against her lips. "Unless you want me to bend you over this counter and fuck you right here, with people just inches away from this door to hear you screaming my name, then I suggest you stop."

"Is that a promise?" She feigned a pout, doe eyes formed to challenge him.

"Fuck, baby," he let out a chuckle, pressing his forehead against hers. "You're everything."

But something about the way she held herself today, the faint distance in her eyes, tugged at him. He gently turned her around to face him, his eyes scanning her face, taking in the subtle signs of her discomfort. 

He had seen the way she zoned out, the way her smile never quite reached her eyes. It was the same look she wore now, even as she stood in front of him. 

Rafe brushed a thumb along her jawline, his voice soft but tinged with concern. "You good?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for something real. 

Imani's gaze didn't meet his. Instead, she fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, her fingers moving absently as she hummed a response. "Mhm." 

That didn't sit right with him. Rafe tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His voice was firmer this time, though still gentle. "Talk to me, yeah?" 

Imani's lips pressed together for a moment, as if weighing whether to tell him the truth. Finally, she exhaled and gave him a faint smile. "I'm fine. I just... hate these kinds of parties, you know me. They bore me to death." 

Her words were easy, but her eyes said something else entirely. Rafe wasn't buying it—not for a second. He knew her tells too well, the way her voice softened just a little too much and the way her nose would twitch when she was trying to hide something.

But he also knew when to back off. 

He nodded slightly, letting her think he believed her. "Alright," he murmured, though his gaze lingered on her, searching for cracks in the mask she wore. 

Instead of pressing her, he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate. It wasn't rushed or heated like usual. It was quiet, almost tender, a silent promise that he was there, even if she couldn't bring herself to say what was on her mind. 

When he pulled back, his hand stayed on her cheek, his thumb tracing small circles against her skin. "I'm here, you know," he said softly.

Imani's lips curved into a small smile, and this time, it felt a little more real. "I know," she whispered.

But even as she leaned into him, Rafe couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she wasn't telling him.

━━━━━━━━━━

"I'll go first," Imani murmured, not wanting to draw attention.

Rafe gave a low chuckle. "Don't get caught, princess."

Imani rolled her eyes but didn't reply, slipping quietly down the hallway. A few seconds later, Rafe exited.

But as they both made their way in different directions, they froze. Standing on opposite sides, Kiara and Sarah were waiting, each with a distinct expression that spoke volumes.

Kiara's eyes immediately narrowed on Rafe, her glare sharp and filled with unmistakable disgust. "Oh, you did not—"

"That's totally unsanitary," Sarah chimed in. "In a house full of people too? Wow."

"We didn't do that," Imani quickly spoke.

"So, what if we did?" Rafe said at the same time.

"What the fuck?!" Kiara and Sarah exclaimed.

"He's lying," Imani gave Rafe a quick glare over her shoulder, who in return gave a cocky smirk. "Nothing happened."

Kiara's lips curled in distaste as she turned to Imani, shaking her head. "Mom's looking for you," she said flatly, her tone clipped.

Sarah scoffed, more out of amusement as she spoke to Rafe. "Dad's looking for you."

Imani flushed slightly, smoothing the front of her dress as if that could erase the tension in the air. "I'll be there in a sec."

Rafe, unbothered as ever, shoved his hands into his pockets, shooting Imani a lazy smirk quickly. "Guess I better go, then."

As Imani and Rafe moved to part ways, Sarah and Kiara exchanged a knowing look, their expressions shifting to mutual annoyance.

Kiara rolled her eyes, her frustration palpable. "Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath.

Sarah snorted, crossing her arms. "Tell me about it," she replied.

"Wasn't talking to you."

"Bitch."

━━━━━━━━━━

The house was silent as Imani padded barefoot into the kitchen. She was reaching for a snack when she froze, hearing the low murmur of voices. Her parents were seated at the kitchen island, their heads close together as they spoke in hushed tones. They straightened immediately when they noticed her, the conversation cutting off.

Imani looked between them. Looks like they've already made up. She thought.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" she teased, opening a cupboard to grab a granola bar.

Mike gave her a small smile, gesturing to the barstool beside him. "Come sit for a second, kiddo."

The casual tone he used didn't fool her. Something was up. Reluctantly, Imani closed the cupboard and sat down.

"What's going on?" she asked, her eyes shifting between her parents. "Why are you both looking at me like that?"

Anna placed her hands flat on the counter. Her voice was soft but serious. "Imani, did you apply for architecture?"

Imani's heart sank at the question. She felt her pulse quicken, the weight of the lie she'd been carrying pressing down on her chest. But she forced herself to stay composed, meeting her mother's gaze with what she hoped was confidence. "Yeah," she said, her voice steady. "I did."

Anna's brow furrowed slightly. "But... you said you wanted to do medicine."

In her mind, Imani's thoughts spiraled. No, you wanted to do medicine, but you got pregnant with me, and that dream slipped through your fingers. So, now you want me to do it.

But she didn't dare say it. She wouldn't. Instead, she forced a tight smile and shrugged. "I did apply for medicine, too," she said quickly. "Architecture is... just a backup."

Both her parents visibly relaxed at her answer. Mike let out a breath and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We're glad you're thinking about this seriously," he said. "Medicine is a solid career. It's practical, stable, and you've always been good with academics."

Anna nodded, her smile softening. "We're so proud of you, Imani. You're going to do amazing things. You know we'll do whatever it takes to make sure you have everything you need."

The words hit Imani like a punch to the gut. Pride. Support. Sacrifice. Everything they had ever done had been for her and Kiara, she knew that. They had worked themselves to the bone to give her opportunities they never had.

And here she was, lying to their faces because the truth—that she wanted something different, that she wanted to be her own person—felt like a betrayal.

"Thanks," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers fiddled with the wrapper of the granola bar, and guilt gnawed at her. They deserved honesty, didn't they? But how could she say it when they were looking at her like that—so full of pride, so certain she was walking the path they had dreamed for her?

As they continued to talk, discussing her future plans and how they'd support her through medical school, Imani nodded along, offering smiles and affirmations when necessary. But inside, she felt like a fraud.

They were trying so hard to give her the best education, the brightest future. They believed in her, and all she could think was how ungrateful she must seem for not wanting the same things. She knew she couldn't let them down. Not after everything they had done.

But as the conversation wound down and she finally escaped back to her room, the weight of it all settled heavily on her chest. She lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling.

She needed a distraction.

So, she messaged the one person who would help her forget. Always did.

imani: i need you

The reply was instant.

rafe: i'm coming to you now.

━━━━━━━━━━

They were practically dry humping each other.

And it was just the distraction Imani needed.

The moonlight streamed through the windows of Rafe's car. Imani's breath came in shallow gasps, her body pressed tightly against his as she straddled his lap. Rafe's hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her skin just enough to make her shiver. Their lips moved feverishly, tongues tangling in a battle that neither wanted to end.

Her nails scraped lightly against the back of his neck as she clutched him closer, her body grinding against him in rhythm. The thin layers of clothing between them only heightened the sensation, the friction sparking electric jolts through her core. She could feel him beneath her, hard and unrelenting, matching her movements with his own in a desperate attempt to close the maddening distance.

"Fuck, baby," Rafe murmured against her lips, his voice low and hoarse. "You're driving me insane." His words were broken by a sharp inhale as she pressed herself harder against him.

"Good," she whispered back, her voice laced with a mixture of defiance and desire. She nipped at his lower lip, drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

He broke the kiss just long enough, his forehead falling against hers. "You feel so good, baby. Don't stop." His voice was a mixture of need and praise, his words spilling out in between gasps as he guided her hips with his hands. "Just like that. Fuck, you're perfect."

"Rafe..." she whispered, her voice low and breathless, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth before finding his again, harder this time, more desperate.

"You'll be a pro by the time you ride me and i'm deep inside of you," he mumbled against her lips with a chuckle.

His hands slid beneath the hem of her shorts, fingers tracing the curve of her ass as he thrust his hips up against her. "You feel that?" he muttered, his lips trailing along her jaw, down to the sensitive skin of her neck. "That's what you do to me."

Imani let out a soft moan in response, her head tilting back to give him more access. The heat between them was unbearable now, their movements frantic and uncoordinated as they lost themselves in each other.

"You're so beautiful," Rafe rasped, his hands gripping her tighter, grinding her against his dick. "You feel so damn good."

His words sent a thrill through her, emboldening her further as she moved against him with more intent. The windows of the car fogged up, obscuring the world outside.

Then, the sharp wail of a police siren split through the heated haze they had indulged in, freezing Imani and Rafe mid-movement. Their breaths mingled in the small, fogged-up space, now tinged with tension as red and blue lights flashed behind them, illuminating the interior of the truck. 

"Oh my God," Imani whispered, panic already bubbling in her voice as she scrambled off Rafe's lap and into the passenger seat. Her hands fumbled to fix her disheveled top and shorts, smoothing her hair as her wide eyes darted toward the rearview mirror. "Oh my God, oh my God. We're going to get arrested." 

Rafe was already reaching for her, his touch surprisingly calm as he helped straighten her top and brushed a hand over her hair to make her look presentable. "Hey, relax," he murmured, cupping her cheek briefly, his thumb stroking her skin. "It's just a cop. Nothing's going to happen, okay? Besides, what's the worst they can do? Fine me for parking?"

"Nothing's going to happen?" she repeated, voice rising as she reached out to grab at her seatbelt. Her fingers fumbled with the buckle, her thoughts spiraling. "Nothing's going to happen? I snuck out! My parents think I'm asleep in my room—" She waved a hand between them, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. "—forget about dry humping you like an animal in the middle of the night?! They're going to kill me!" 

Rafe leaned back against his seat, he clicked his tongue and gave her a teasing glance, his tone full of mockery. "So... sneaking out is their top priority, huh? Good to know. Not me. Not us. Just sneaking out." 

"Rafe, this isn't funny! Why aren't you worried? There's a cop behind us!" 

"I'm not doing anything wrong." He leaned closer, his smirk still firmly in place. "Yet." 

Her mouth opened to retort, but the sound of approaching footsteps outside the driver's side window silenced her. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths as her eyes locked on Rafe's. For all his casual arrogance, his hand found hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he turned to roll the window down. 

"We're going to get locked up tonight."

"Relax," his voice low and steady. "I've got this." 

Imani could only pray he was right as her heart pounded loud enough to drown out her thoughts.

The knock on the driver's side window made Imani jump in her seat, her heart plummeting into her stomach. Rafe, on the other hand, was infuriatingly composed as he rolled down the window. The humid night air spilled in, along with the unmistakable figure of Sheriff Shoupe, his flashlight cutting through the dimness of the truck's interior. 

"Evening, Shoupe," Rafe greeted

Shoupe leaned down, his tired eyes narrowing as they settled on Rafe. He sighed heavily, his mustache twitching in frustration. "Why am I not surprised it's you?" he muttered, his Southern accent drawl heavy with exasperation. 

Shoupe was about to respond when his gaze shifted to the passenger seat, where Imani sat stiffly, her cheeks flushed, and her hands folded tightly in her lap. The flashlight lingered on her for a beat longer than necessary. "Well, now I am surprised," he said, his brows shooting up. "Imani Carrera? What the hell are you doing here? Especially around this one."

"You make it sound like i'm the devil," Rafe scoffed.

Imani flushed, her voice coming out weak and sheepish. "Hi, Shoupe." 

"Don't you 'hi, me, young lady," he said, shaking his head. "I should've known better than to think you'd keep your nose clean hanging around this one." He jerked his thumb toward Rafe, whose grin only widened. "What are you two even doing out here?"

Rafe shrugged, leaning back in his seat  with an air of nonchalance. "Just talking."

Shoupe snorted. "Yeah, sure. Talking. In a parked truck. At midnight."

"If you want me to be specific. Then we were—"

"Rafe!" Imani scolded with a whisper.

"Spare me the details," Shoupe rolled his eyes.

"You asked," Rafe shrugged.

"Shut up," Imani muttered to him.

"You think I don't have better things to do than chase after you, Cameron?" 

Rafe shrugged, leaning one elbow against the open window. "Didn't realise parking was illegal now. Or is it just illegal when it's me?" 

"Don't get smart with me, boy," Shoupe snapped, clearly fed up. He jabbed a finger toward the truck. "You've got no business being out here, and neither does she."

Imani straightened in her seat, her hands waving slightly in protest. "We weren't doing anything, Shoupe! I swear!" 

"Sure you weren't. Don't insult my intelligence, kid." Shoupe turned to Imani, the weight of his disapproving glare settling on her. "You know your parents would lose their damn minds if they knew where you were, right?"

Imani winced, her anxiety spiking again. "Please don't tell them," she blurted, her voice rushing out. "I'll—I'll never do this again. I promise." 

Rafe chuckled beside her, clearly enjoying her panic. "Come on, Shoupe, cut her some slack. She's new to this kind of thing. I'll take the blame." 

Shoupe turned his glare on him. "The blame is always on you, Cameron. Don't act like you're doing her a favour." 

Imani's temper finally flared, and she rounded on Rafe, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Why are you so cocky about this? He's literally about to call our parents! This is serious!" 

Rafe caught her hand with ease, his smirk never faltering. "Relax, baby. I've got it handled." 

"Handled?" Shoupe snorted. "You don't 'handle' anything, Rafe. If I catch you two out here again, I'll make sure Ward knows about it. And trust me, he won't be as amused as you are." 

Shoupe took a final sweeping glance at the pair of them as he muttered under his breath, "I don't get paid enough for this shit." He stepped back from the window, gesturing toward the road. "You've got 30 seconds to get out of here and head straight home. I mean it."

"Of course," Imani obliged immediately.

"I'll just find another spot," Rafe muttered.

"Boy, don't play with me," Shoupe began as he stepped forward.

"He's joking," Imani interrupted.

"He better be," Shouple gave one last glare to them. "Now, get lost."

"Have a nice night, Shoupe," Rafe drawled, clearly unbothered as he started the engine. 

Imani folded her arms, shooting him a glare. "I'm never sneaking out with you again." 

Rafe just laughed, throwing the truck into gear as they pulled away. "Admit it," he said with a wink, "you'd be bored without me."

Imani didn't dignify that with a response.

━━━━━━━━━━

The night was still as Rafe and Imani stood on her balcony, the faint rustle of the trees the only sound breaking the silence. The moonlight bathed them in a soft glow, and Rafe's thumb gently traced the curve of her jaw as he gazed down at her.

"You okay?" he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Imani nodded, offering him a small smile. "Yeah," she whispered, but even she didn't believe the word.

Rafe leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It wasn't rough or demanding like it often was; it was tender, filled with something unspoken. When he pulled back, his eyes lingered on hers, searching. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the way he was trying to read her, to understand the storm she was hiding.

Her chest tightened, and panic flared for a split second. She wasn't ready for anyone—especially Rafe—to see the cracks in her armor.

Before he could say anything, she let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "You're staring, Cameron," she teased lightly, her tone airy.

"Maybe I like what I'm looking at, Carrera," he said, his voice playful, but his eyes didn't lose their intensity.

Imani stepped back, putting a bit of space between them as she gestured toward the railing. "You should go before my Dad catches us."

Rafe studied her for another moment, then nodded. "Alright, I'm going," he said, but his hand brushed hers one last time, lingering for a second longer than necessary. "Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight," she replied softly, before stepping inside and quietly closing the door behind her. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of her bedside lamp. For a moment, she stood there, staring at the floor, her mind swirling with everything and nothing all at once.

The silence pressed down on her like a heavy weight, and she suddenly felt unbearably empty. Her knees buckled slightly, and she sank onto her bed, her hands clutching the edge of the mattress. Without warning, the tears came, hot and unrelenting. She buried her face in her hands, trying to muffle the sound of her sobs as they wracked her body.

All the pressure, the weight of her parents' expectations, the lies, the guilt, pretending to Rafe—all of it crashed over her, suffocating and relentless.

Unbeknownst to her, Rafe hadn't left entirely. He lingered outside, leaning against the wall, his cigarette burning forgotten in his hand. He had heard the faint sound of her sobbing, and though he hadn't meant to eavesdrop, it rooted him to the spot.

His jaw tightened, the sound twisting something deep inside him. He didn't move, didn't call out to her.

Instead, he sat in the shadows, listening to her pain in the quiet night, and for the first time in a long while, he felt completely helpless, knowing full well that whatever was eating at Imani wasn't something he could fix with a kiss or a distraction.

But one thing was certain—he'd make sure she didn't feel alone for long.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

author's note:

- it was a little heavy this chapter, but i needed to write a glimpse about Imani's mental health since this is the root of other traumas she'll have later on. if you thought she was going to be fine, be prepared for what i have planned for season 3 especially 😐

- i wanted to show that she has issues of her own but what you read about her is like what others perceive her from the outside so this is more from her perspective personally.

- for all the eldest daughter's out there that are independent, struggle to express and need to live up to expectations along with academic validation, Imani feels you 😭

- please make sure to comment and vote on every chapter.