Crash (Crash 1)

Stalling suddenly, Jude looked back at me. “Luce,” he said, his voice even, not showing any of the signs of being winded as you’d expect him to be, “go inside and call 911.”

When I stayed frozen in place, he added, “I’ve got this. I won’t let them hurt you.” Just then, the cowering in the corner twins decided to unite forces and come at Jude. Or at me, I wasn’t sure. “Go, Luce,” he begged, motioning back at the cabin. “I’ll protect you.”

This time, when I tried to put one foot in front of the other, I was able to do it. Striding up the beach felt like I was trying to run a marathon in under an hour, my lungs and body were so fatigued, but I pressed on, glancing back every other step to make sure Jude was holding his own against the threesome.

Holding his own would have been the modest term for saying he wasn’t taking any prisoners. How and wherever that man had learned to fight like that, I didn’t want to know, but I couldn’t help but be thankful for it tonight.

I was just staggering around the corner of the cabin when I noticed the red and blue lights, followed by the cop glaring a flashlight into my face.

“We’re responding to a report that someone across the lake noticed a large fire burning in this general area,” he said, walking towards me as his partner came up behind him. “You see anything, miss?”

“Here,” I said, breathing heavily from my jaunt up the beach. “The fire’s here.” Pointing down the beach, the officer looked at me again, this time really seeing me. His eyes widened.

“Miss, are you in need of medical care?” he asked, walking slowly towards me like I was mentally unstable, which, at this point in time, wasn’t that far off the mark.

“Maybe?” I answered, not sure. Adrenaline was still firing through me so intensely I couldn’t feel any of my injuries, or ascertain if I had any.

“Hal, call for a paramedic.”

His partner nodded and jogged back to the cruiser.

“Okay, miss,” he said, stopping in front of me. “I’m Officer Murphy. What’s your name?”

“Lucy,” I said, clearing my throat. “Lucy Larson.”

“Good, Miss Larson,” Officer Murphy said, his eyes darting over me, trying without success to look at me like something wasn’t very wrong. “Is anyone else down there?”

“Yes,” I said, grabbing his forearm and pulling him towards the beach. “There are four others and my dog.” Although if Rambo was still alive and smile-panting, that meant miracles were real and I’d learned the hard way that believing in miracles was the work of fools.

“What are their names?” Murphy asked, striding ahead of me in a hurry.

“I only know the first names of three of them.” Three first names I wasn’t sure we’d find still alive, and first names who’d wanted me dead for no good reason other than why not.

“And the fourth?” Murphy stopped, looking back at me.

I swallowed. “Jude,” I said. “Jude Ryder.”

“Wait,” Murphy said, his face changing. “Jude Ryder’s down there?”

I nodded, my forehead lining.

“Shit,” he said under his breath before tearing his walkie from his pocket. “Hal,” he sighed into it, “call for back-up. Jude Ryder’s here.”

Hal muttered another curse back before answering, “Copy that. I’m calling for back-up now.”

CHAPTER FIVE

One of my favorite places in the cabin was the screened in porch. I loved taking in the view, curled into old wicker chair with a blanket twisted around me.

That had changed tonight.

Something about watching the guy you hoped would kiss the wits out of you every night until forever shoved away in cuffs, followed by three more guys who were more stumbling than walking thanks to Jude’s handiwork, all while what was left of the kennel and the remains of a dog you were responsible for smoldered, had a way of knocking your whole worldview on its ass.

The paramedics had left because, other than a smattering of heat blisters on the back of my neck, there was nothing in their arsenal that could fix singed hair. My parents finally woke up once three more squad cars arrived with sirens blaring. Mom was still hung over from her double dose of sleeping pills and dad had been such a wreck when he found out what happened he had to be given a tranquilizer. So now, both parents sat as far apart as they could on the wicker loveseat, eyes glazed over, glancing between the beach to me to the police cars as if trying to decide if this was all real.

“Mr. and Mrs. Larson?” Officer Murphy tapped once on the screen door before stepping onto the porch. “We’re all finished up here. Here’s my card if you have any questions.” He slid it into my mom’s hand, looking between the three of us like we were the saddest thing he’d seen tonight. He might have been right. “Otherwise, I’ll keep you updated. Now, Lucy,” he said, turning to face me, “I’ll need you to come down to the station and give your report first thing in the morning. Will you need a squad car to pick you up or can you get there on your own?”

“I can drive,” I answered, giving him a small smile.

Mirroring my smile, he crouched beside me. “Are you all right, Lucy?” he asked, resting his hand on my arm. “Can I get you anything?” He squeezed my arm, shooting a look my parents’ way like he couldn’t reconcile why they were over there while I was over here.

ing suddenly, Jude looked back at me. “Luce,” he said, his voice even, not showing any of the signs of being winded as you’d expect him to be, “go inside and call 911.”

When I stayed frozen in place, he added, “I’ve got this. I won’t let them hurt you.” Just then, the cowering in the corner twins decided to unite forces and come at Jude. Or at me, I wasn’t sure. “Go, Luce,” he begged, motioning back at the cabin. “I’ll protect you.”

This time, when I tried to put one foot in front of the other, I was able to do it. Striding up the beach felt like I was trying to run a marathon in under an hour, my lungs and body were so fatigued, but I pressed on, glancing back every other step to make sure Jude was holding his own against the threesome.

Holding his own would have been the modest term for saying he wasn’t taking any prisoners. How and wherever that man had learned to fight like that, I didn’t want to know, but I couldn’t help but be thankful for it tonight.

I was just staggering around the corner of the cabin when I noticed the red and blue lights, followed by the cop glaring a flashlight into my face.

“We’re responding to a report that someone across the lake noticed a large fire burning in this general area,” he said, walking towards me as his partner came up behind him. “You see anything, miss?”

“Here,” I said, breathing heavily from my jaunt up the beach. “The fire’s here.” Pointing down the beach, the officer looked at me again, this time really seeing me. His eyes widened.

“Miss, are you in need of medical care?” he asked, walking slowly towards me like I was mentally unstable, which, at this point in time, wasn’t that far off the mark.

“Maybe?” I answered, not sure. Adrenaline was still firing through me so intensely I couldn’t feel any of my injuries, or ascertain if I had any.

“Hal, call for a paramedic.”

His partner nodded and jogged back to the cruiser.

“Okay, miss,” he said, stopping in front of me. “I’m Officer Murphy. What’s your name?”

“Lucy,” I said, clearing my throat. “Lucy Larson.”

“Good, Miss Larson,” Officer Murphy said, his eyes darting over me, trying without success to look at me like something wasn’t very wrong. “Is anyone else down there?”

“Yes,” I said, grabbing his forearm and pulling him towards the beach. “There are four others and my dog.” Although if Rambo was still alive and smile-panting, that meant miracles were real and I’d learned the hard way that believing in miracles was the work of fools.

“What are their names?” Murphy asked, striding ahead of me in a hurry.

“I only know the first names of three of them.” Three first names I wasn’t sure we’d find still alive, and first names who’d wanted me dead for no good reason other than why not.

“And the fourth?” Murphy stopped, looking back at me.

I swallowed. “Jude,” I said. “Jude Ryder.”

“Wait,” Murphy said, his face changing. “Jude Ryder’s down there?”

I nodded, my forehead lining.

“Shit,” he said under his breath before tearing his walkie from his pocket. “Hal,” he sighed into it, “call for back-up. Jude Ryder’s here.”

Hal muttered another curse back before answering, “Copy that. I’m calling for back-up now.”

CHAPTER FIVE

One of my favorite places in the cabin was the screened in porch. I loved taking in the view, curled into old wicker chair with a blanket twisted around me.

That had changed tonight.

Something about watching the guy you hoped would kiss the wits out of you every night until forever shoved away in cuffs, followed by three more guys who were more stumbling than walking thanks to Jude’s handiwork, all while what was left of the kennel and the remains of a dog you were responsible for smoldered, had a way of knocking your whole worldview on its ass.

The paramedics had left because, other than a smattering of heat blisters on the back of my neck, there was nothing in their arsenal that could fix singed hair. My parents finally woke up once three more squad cars arrived with sirens blaring. Mom was still hung over from her double dose of sleeping pills and dad had been such a wreck when he found out what happened he had to be given a tranquilizer. So now, both parents sat as far apart as they could on the wicker loveseat, eyes glazed over, glancing between the beach to me to the police cars as if trying to decide if this was all real.

“Mr. and Mrs. Larson?” Officer Murphy tapped once on the screen door before stepping onto the porch. “We’re all finished up here. Here’s my card if you have any questions.” He slid it into my mom’s hand, looking between the three of us like we were the saddest thing he’d seen tonight. He might have been right. “Otherwise, I’ll keep you updated. Now, Lucy,” he said, turning to face me, “I’ll need you to come down to the station and give your report first thing in the morning. Will you need a squad car to pick you up or can you get there on your own?”

“I can drive,” I answered, giving him a small smile.

Mirroring my smile, he crouched beside me. “Are you all right, Lucy?” he asked, resting his hand on my arm. “Can I get you anything?” He squeezed my arm, shooting a look my parents’ way like he couldn’t reconcile why they were over there while I was over here.