#closing time

It was a warm summer night on the island, and the majority of your shift at the country club was already behind you.

You’d been keeping yourself busy maintaining customers, catching up on refills, taking care of dirty cups, normal bartender activities.

You’d just finished restocking the bar when you caught sight of a familiar figure sauntering up to the bar.

Fuck. You were sure you’d missed a slew of texts and calls from your boyfriend, questioning your whereabouts. But it was a Friday night at the country club, and time often slipped away from you on Fridays.

You’d hardly had a chance to check the clock, let alone your phone for that matter.

All you could do as he approached was offer your boyfriend a sweet smile as you spoke, in hopes he might catch on to your desire to keep things peaceful in your place of work. And he might have…

He just didn’t care. Rafe ignored your comments, skipping right to the reason he dragged himself into the bar in the first place.

“You been ignoring me?”

Your brows knitted together in confusion, eyes quickly scanning the bar to see if anyone had heard Rafe’s…greeting to you.

And naturally, his loud voice had carried to the ears of all the patrons sitting around the counter.

“What?” You whispered, an attempt at keeping any wandering ears out of your business. “I-I’ve been working, Rafe.”

God, you hated when he came around at work. You were always so confident behind the counter, your male customers generosity and kind compliments boosting your ego every shift you worked.

…Until Rafe invaded the scene. You hated how much more soft-spoken you were around him. How much more you stumbled on your words, how… small he could make you feel.

So, of course as soon as you realized who was approaching, you wanted to get rid of him as fast as possible.

“Look, Topper’s here, why don’t you go hit the greens, o-okay? I’ll come find you right after my shift, and-“

He could hardly wait for you to finish the obscure suggestion before snarkily replying, “You think I can trust you here by yourself after you ignored me all day? Yeah, right,” He scoffed, pulling a barstool out before plopping down onto it. “Let me get a beer, babe.”

The smile didn’t leave your face until you spun around on your heels. You had to be sure the mix of disappointment, frustration and embarassment you adopted was no longer in Rafe’s field of view.

Reluctantly, you trotted over to the cooler and grabbed the only brand of beer you knew he’d accept. When you returned, you hoped Rafe had decided to turn things down a notch.

Icy blue eyes seemed to be looking right past you, though. Your eyes followed his line of vision behind you, locating the customer on the other end of Rafe’s death glare.

“That guy was staring at your ass the whole fucking time you bent down,” he seethed, teeth gritted together tightly, causing his jaw to protrude out here and there.

You placed the cold can on the countertop. “Rafe, don’t be ridiculous. I-“

“Hey, buddy?” Oh god.

Your boyfriend waved a large arm out in front of him, his loud voice gathering the attention of most everyone near the bar, including the unfortunate regular you were sure would no longer be one after tonight.

“You like staring at chick’s asses? That’s my fucking girlfriend, have some respect!” You tried to calm him down, to no avail.

“The hell are you talkin’ about, man?”

Rafe raised a brow at the challenge, rising to his feet and pushing his chair back in the process. “I’m talkin’ about the problem we’re gonna have if you look at my girl one more fucking time.”

The man waved Rafe off with a flick of his wrist and a roll of his eyes, turning his attention back to the TV he’d been focused on the whole time.

You turned back to Rafe, who’s chest was now heaving, dark gaze still forced upon the customer. “Rafe, just, please sit back down.” He slowly complied, never taking his eyes off of the man.

“That wasn’t very-“

“Where the fuck did that fucking skirt come from, anyway?” Now his eyes had adverted to your black tennis skirt, one he’d definitely seen you wear before.

“You’ve seen this skirt before,” you reminded him. “It’s better for the summertime.”

Rafe cracked opened the beer and threw back a long swig. “Seems like you just wanted some extra attention. You putting on shows now, too? Hmm?” He pointed the can your direction.

You could feel your face turning hot, cheeks undoubtedly flushed red with embarassment. Again, your eyes darted off to the side to see if any heads had turned. They had.

“I…I’m just trying to be comfortable while I work, Rafe.”

He waved you off, turning his attention to some sports game playing on the flat screen TV high atop the wall of alcohol. You’d take it, no complaints. Rafe ignoring you was better than Rafe berating you, belittling you, embarassing you at your job.

You turned your attention back to your customers, whose looks of pity you couldn’t ignore as you were finally able to tend to their requests again.

The sound of an empty glass hitting the counter led you to a man on the far end, who’d finished what you knew was now his 3rd drink. “Need anything else, sir?”

“I’ll take another one. Thanks, doll.” You paid no mind to the pet name. The man was older, and you were used to terms of endearment from your customers. After all, you were a great bartender, and a generous one, too.

But Rafe, of course, couldn’t ignore the way you smiled at the man after he referred to you in such a sweet way. So sweet, it disgusted the Cameron boy.

He wore that disgust on his face when you approached him again, questioning, “Hmm, back to me now, huh? What? Are you-you done flirting now, I see?”

“What?” You almost laughed, but you couldn’t forget who you were dealing with. “Rafe, I…I just asked him if he wanted anything else.”

“Yeah, you’ve asked him like 10 fucking times.”

“Hey man, why don’t you give the girl a break-“

“Hey man,” Rafe mocked. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and mind your own business?!”

You rushed to your boyfriend who looked like he was about to jump over the counter and lunge at the man who dared to stick up for you. He must be new here, you thought. He obviously didn’t know the man he’s challenging on your behalf.

And you didn’t want to be responsible for what your boyfriend would undoubtedly do if he kept it up.

—

Rafe was finishing off his second beer when your manager let you go to break.

You made it outside just in time to spare any co-workers or customers from your tears, because they started falling as soon as you made it through the backdoor.

You had all of two minutes to yourself in the dimly lit alley before heavy footsteps broke up the silence.

“Baby,” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, holding off as long as you could even as Rafe cupped your cheeks with both hands, tilting your head up towards his.

He sighed at your reluctance to meet his gaze. “Y/N/N, baby, look at me.” You didn’t want to, but your lifted your head anyway.

You sniffled as Rafe wore a small pout on his lips. “Aww, baby don’t cry, come here,” Large, muscular arms pulled you into him. You turned your head just in time for your cheek to press into his hard chest, tears streaming down and soaking into his shirt as he shushed you.

“Baby, it’s okay. I know you think you need the attention, just like you think you need this job…” You didn’t like where the conversation was headed, but your brain was just as cloudy as your teary vision.

He pulled away slowly, placing both hands on your biceps. “But I can take care of all of that, baby. You know this. You know I’ll take care of you. Don’t I give you enough attention?”

You met his gaze again, drinking in the serious look he wore now. “I-I wasn’t trying t-to-“

“Don’t-“ You winced at the sudden tightening of Rafe’s fingers around your arms. His eyes fell shut for a moment, heading cocking to the side as he took a deep breath to resteady himself. “Don’t I give you enough attention?” He repeated.

This time, you didn’t try to justify yourself, your outfit. You just nodded your head with another sniffle.

“Good, good girl.” He released one arm, bringing the now free hand up to brush strands of hair from your face, caressing your cheek in the same movements.

“Now, we don’t need this job, do we?” His question was laced with a condescending tone you were all too used to.

You hated how he used the term ‘we’. It seemed nothing could be just you, just Y/N anymore. Everything had to involve Rafe. He had to have a say in anything you did, anywhere you went, anyone you hung out with, and it had to be the final say, at that.

“Rafe…” His name came out a choked whisper, you were barely able to get anything out through the painful lump lodged in your throat.

You didn’t need to, because Rafe was sliding the hand on your cheek around to the back of your head as soon as he noticed you fixing your lips to protest.

Strong fingers weaved through the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging just enough to elicit a sharp gasp from you.

“I said we don’t need this job, do we, Y/N?” You wrapped your hand around his wrist, trying to pry it from your hair to no avail. Only your compliance could losen the tight grip, and you knew it. You both knew it.

By now, he had your back against the brick wall, one arm caging you inbetween the building and his figure, which was pressed up against yours to keep you in place.

Physically backing you into a wall made you feel as if you’d also been backed into a wall emotionally, mentally. Like you had nowhere to go, nothing to say to get you out of the situation besides what Rafe wanted to hear.

“N-no…” your voice cracked as you admitted defeat, knowing it meant you wouldn’t be returning from break. Maybe you could text your boss and try to beg for a second chance later, but right now, Rafe was only presenting you with one option.

“There’s my good girl.” Again, he praised you with a gentle brushing of his fingers against the skin of your arm he’d just been gripping. You couldn’t help but lean into the warm, familiar touch. “Leave with me, right now. You don’t need to work. I’ll take care of you.”

He finally afforded you some space, taking a step back and letting you push yourself off of the wall. You brought a shaky hand up to your mouth, covering it as tears continued to fall. You took one last glance behind your shoulder, back at the job you’d been so excited to start not even a year ago.

In all honesty, you were surprised you even made it this long. Rafe would constantly try to convince you to quit bartending, to let him provide for you, take care of all of your financial needs.

…But work was your escape. It gave you at least six hours a night out of Tannyhill, away from Rafe, where you could actually get some social interaction outside of conversations with your boyfriend or his family.

Your eyes fell from the building down to the ground, where they remained as you felt your boyfriend draped an arm around your shoulders.

Rafe pulled you into him, ignoring your sniffles and cries accompanying the deep frown on your face as he led you away from the county club, and out to his truck.

You’d surely miss out on your pay for the night, forfeit your tips to the rest of the crew. Hell, you might not even get your check for the whole week, depending on how mad your boss would be at you ghosting your station on the 2nd busiest night of the week…

But that was okay with Rafe.

He’d take you home, make up for his controlling behavior and the loss of your job by going down on you. Then he’d make sure you took care of anything he needed, not the slew of amorous men you insisted were ‘just customers’.

You were sulking as Rafe guided your frame up into his truck, hands placed firmly on your hips. He made sure you were buckled in, offering your thigh a gentle squeeze and your cheek a soft kiss before he closed the door behind him.

It was only when he turned on his heels, positive his face was out of your view that a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

He’d got what he wanted out of you, and he didn’t even have to pull out all of the stops to do so.

The sad cycle was doomed to continue… especially now that you were left with no job and no real reason to leave Rafe’s side, in his eyes.