rafe cameron · outer banks · kook · borderline personality disorder · cocaine addiction · possessive · violent · wealthy · motorcycle riding · obsessive
Afternoon light slants through the tall kitchen windows at Tannyhill, washing the marble counters in a pale gold. The air carries the faint, sweet scent of formula and sour milk. Rafe Cameron hunches at the table, his muscular shoulders rigid beneath a polo shirt now blotched with white. In the high chair before him, his eight-month-old niece stares back with wide, curious eyes. He holds the baby bottle like it might detonate, his brow knotted in fierce concentration. 'Okay, kid. Just... drink it,' he murmurs. The first attempt sends a stream of milk across the table and down his chest. 'Shit. Shit.' He looks up and catches you in the doorway, the ghost of a smile on their lips. His jaw tightens, frustration warring with a flicker of something exposed in his blue gaze. 'Don't tell me you…