Crash (Crash 1)

“Jude,” I said, looping my fingers through his belt.

Turning around, he looked at me with weary eyes. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And, after a moment’s pause, he did.

I didn’t have a clue what time it was by the time Jude and I were finally able to pry each other away from one another, but as I tucked myself into bed that night, I knew the sun would be making its debut in a few hours max. That meant I’d have to get through a killer three hour ballet practice on two hours of sleep. I didn’t care. Every minute of sleep lost was spent losing myself in Jude’s arms.

Forcing myself to close my eyes and turn off my overheated mind, I opened them a heartbeat later. Rambo went off like a hurricane warning.

I jolted out of bed and ran to the window. Rambo wasn’t a barker; he growled, smiled, and gave an occasional yap, but I’d never heard him go off like this. It was like either him, or someone close by, was about to have the life strangled from them.

I couldn’t make out much other than the gleam of his kennel and what could be shadows winding in the wind or people moving around the perimeter. Lifting the window to get a better look, a wall of flames exploded up and around Rambo’s kennel.

It wasn’t something I thought about. It was purely a gut decision. Crawling out of the window, I scooted down the roof. The only thing on my mind was saving Rambo from another fire. One I could actually save him from.

How or whom had started the fire wasn’t even an afterthought; I just had to get to him. To save him.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the roof, my feet landed on the porch rail, and then it was a mere jump to the ground. I’d done it a dozen different times, but I didn’t think this instance qualified as sneaking out of the house.

Rambo’s barks had stopped at the inception of the flames, and I wasn’t sure if that was because he was scared barkless or dead. It seemed wrong to hope for the former.

Grabbing the hose around the side of the house, I cranked it on and sprinted down the yard. The hundred yards to the beach where the kennel was took an eternity to cross. Thrusting my thumb over the end of the hose, I sprayed the kennel door first, hoping to kill the flames there so I could open it and free Rambo. I couldn’t see him through the fire, but I had to believe he was all right.

I couldn’t tell you if the laughter behind me had just started or had been going on for a while, but when clapping accompanied it, I finally took notice.

Keeping the hose aimed at the kennel, I looked over my shoulder to find Vince and the twins ambling towards me. Without Jude’s formidable frame blocking me, they, and the menacing looks on their faces, terrified me.

“So we meet again,” Vince said, separating himself from the other two.

I felt like I could vomit, but I didn’t let that keep me from replying. “I was hoping we would since I wasn’t sure if you got a good look at my parting message.” Separating one hand from the hose, I performed a repeat flip off.

I knew it was childish, I knew it was out of place, and I knew it was useless against three men and whatever they were going to throw my way, but it felt so damn good at the time.

Vince’s face dropped, like he couldn’t believe I was giving them the bird when my dog was very likely on fire and three boys that personified disturbed were looking at me like I was next up on their climb towards crime escalation.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you burn, bitch,” he said, spitting to the side. “Grab that whore so we can teach her some manners.”

I should have yelled, I should have ran, I should have at least dropped the hose so I’d have use of both hands when the twins came at me, but I’d never been the girl that did what she should have.

Keeping the hose firing at the kennel, I glanced over at Jude’s house, waiting for him to come barreling out the front door any moment to save me. Two sets of arms grabbed ahold of me, twisting me around with such force the hose snapped free of my hands.

“You better let me go right now!” I shouted at the two of them, struggling against their grips. “Unless you want a fist dent to your foreheads.” Another look over my shoulder revealed no sign of Jude, not even a hint of light in his house.

“He’s not coming to your rescue, honey,” Vince said, stepping forward. “Jude’s not the kind of guy who likes to play hero. He’s more the anti-hero type if you catch my drift.”

This earned a couple of snickers from either side of me.

“Ha,” I snorted. “This coming from the person who lit some helpless dog on fire to lure a girl out of bed so he could attempt to intimidate her. That sound like someone who would recognize a hero when he saw one?” My mom had told me from the time I was three my mouth was going to be the death of me, and gauging by the flash of murder across Vince’s face, she was right.

“So what exactly are you calling me?”

Narrowing my eyes, I sunk my heels in the ground. “A coward.”

It didn’t seem physically possible that a guy that rotund could move as fast as he did.

“I was going to let you live,” he hissed outside my ear, as his fingers encircled my neck, “but that was before that comment.” His fingers left my neck and went to my head. I already knew what he was prepping to do, so I braced myself for it, but expecting the pain didn’t dim the pain when he yanked my hair so hard I was certain he’d unrooted half of it.

“You’ve got pretty hair,” he said, as a vaguely familiar flicking sound came from behind. “I hope you enjoyed it.”

o;Jude,” I said, looping my fingers through his belt.

Turning around, he looked at me with weary eyes. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And, after a moment’s pause, he did.

I didn’t have a clue what time it was by the time Jude and I were finally able to pry each other away from one another, but as I tucked myself into bed that night, I knew the sun would be making its debut in a few hours max. That meant I’d have to get through a killer three hour ballet practice on two hours of sleep. I didn’t care. Every minute of sleep lost was spent losing myself in Jude’s arms.

Forcing myself to close my eyes and turn off my overheated mind, I opened them a heartbeat later. Rambo went off like a hurricane warning.

I jolted out of bed and ran to the window. Rambo wasn’t a barker; he growled, smiled, and gave an occasional yap, but I’d never heard him go off like this. It was like either him, or someone close by, was about to have the life strangled from them.

I couldn’t make out much other than the gleam of his kennel and what could be shadows winding in the wind or people moving around the perimeter. Lifting the window to get a better look, a wall of flames exploded up and around Rambo’s kennel.

It wasn’t something I thought about. It was purely a gut decision. Crawling out of the window, I scooted down the roof. The only thing on my mind was saving Rambo from another fire. One I could actually save him from.

How or whom had started the fire wasn’t even an afterthought; I just had to get to him. To save him.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the roof, my feet landed on the porch rail, and then it was a mere jump to the ground. I’d done it a dozen different times, but I didn’t think this instance qualified as sneaking out of the house.

Rambo’s barks had stopped at the inception of the flames, and I wasn’t sure if that was because he was scared barkless or dead. It seemed wrong to hope for the former.

Grabbing the hose around the side of the house, I cranked it on and sprinted down the yard. The hundred yards to the beach where the kennel was took an eternity to cross. Thrusting my thumb over the end of the hose, I sprayed the kennel door first, hoping to kill the flames there so I could open it and free Rambo. I couldn’t see him through the fire, but I had to believe he was all right.

I couldn’t tell you if the laughter behind me had just started or had been going on for a while, but when clapping accompanied it, I finally took notice.

Keeping the hose aimed at the kennel, I looked over my shoulder to find Vince and the twins ambling towards me. Without Jude’s formidable frame blocking me, they, and the menacing looks on their faces, terrified me.

“So we meet again,” Vince said, separating himself from the other two.

I felt like I could vomit, but I didn’t let that keep me from replying. “I was hoping we would since I wasn’t sure if you got a good look at my parting message.” Separating one hand from the hose, I performed a repeat flip off.

I knew it was childish, I knew it was out of place, and I knew it was useless against three men and whatever they were going to throw my way, but it felt so damn good at the time.

Vince’s face dropped, like he couldn’t believe I was giving them the bird when my dog was very likely on fire and three boys that personified disturbed were looking at me like I was next up on their climb towards crime escalation.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you burn, bitch,” he said, spitting to the side. “Grab that whore so we can teach her some manners.”

I should have yelled, I should have ran, I should have at least dropped the hose so I’d have use of both hands when the twins came at me, but I’d never been the girl that did what she should have.

Keeping the hose firing at the kennel, I glanced over at Jude’s house, waiting for him to come barreling out the front door any moment to save me. Two sets of arms grabbed ahold of me, twisting me around with such force the hose snapped free of my hands.

“You better let me go right now!” I shouted at the two of them, struggling against their grips. “Unless you want a fist dent to your foreheads.” Another look over my shoulder revealed no sign of Jude, not even a hint of light in his house.

“He’s not coming to your rescue, honey,” Vince said, stepping forward. “Jude’s not the kind of guy who likes to play hero. He’s more the anti-hero type if you catch my drift.”

This earned a couple of snickers from either side of me.

“Ha,” I snorted. “This coming from the person who lit some helpless dog on fire to lure a girl out of bed so he could attempt to intimidate her. That sound like someone who would recognize a hero when he saw one?” My mom had told me from the time I was three my mouth was going to be the death of me, and gauging by the flash of murder across Vince’s face, she was right.

“So what exactly are you calling me?”

Narrowing my eyes, I sunk my heels in the ground. “A coward.”

It didn’t seem physically possible that a guy that rotund could move as fast as he did.

“I was going to let you live,” he hissed outside my ear, as his fingers encircled my neck, “but that was before that comment.” His fingers left my neck and went to my head. I already knew what he was prepping to do, so I braced myself for it, but expecting the pain didn’t dim the pain when he yanked my hair so hard I was certain he’d unrooted half of it.

“You’ve got pretty hair,” he said, as a vaguely familiar flicking sound came from behind. “I hope you enjoyed it.”