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.

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to look back at the third squad car from the front, where a bowed head wearing a beanie cap was visible. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he said, rising. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Officer?” Mom cleared her throat, sounding half pleasant. Must have been the sleeping pills. “Just to be clear, Mr. Ryder doesn’t live in the house next door?”

“No, Mrs. Larson,” he said. “Unless you count squatting in the boat house uninvited for a few nights.”

“Squatting?” she repeated like she’d never heard the word.

“Also known as breaking and entering in my line of work,” he explained. “Also known as a regular occurrence if you’re Jude Ryder.”

“This isn’t his first time being arrested?” mom asked, staring at me as she spoke.

Officer Murphy chuckled. “Nowhere near it,” he said. “We’ve known Jude and those other three delinquents since they were grade schoolers. Bad eggs, every last one of them,” he said, looking at me like he was trying to drive a message home. “These boys are the sort fathers pray their daughters never have the misfortune of meeting. These are the kind of boys that grow into men that spend their lives in prison.”

Mom sighed, shaking her head while dad enjoyed the benefits of la-la land.

“But Jude saved me from those other three,” I said, not sure why I was speaking up. As I’d expected, I knew nothing about Jude. I felt betrayed and lied too and duped. But somehow, even with all that stacked against him, I still felt the need to stand up for him. “They would have killed me if he hadn’t stepped in.” I made sure to make eye contact with my mom, driving home that Jude was the only one capable of saving me since my parents had been snoring drug-induced low Cs for hours.

“Not to dispute what you’re saying, Lucy, but in all my years of dealing with Jude Ryder, I’ve never once known him to care about anyone but himself,” Officer Murphy said to me, his smile sympathetic. “Boys like that are incapable of caring about anyone but themselves.”

“I don’t believe that,” I said, ignoring my mom’s glare.

“I know, Lucy. I know you don’t,” Murphy replied, opening the screen door. “Jude wouldn’t be such a capable and successful criminal if he wasn’t charming and manipulative, but tell you what. When Jude gets released in the next hopefully three weeks, but more likely few days, let me know if you hear from him, will you? If he calls you to apologize and beg your forgiveness or heck, even if he calls just to say hi, you let me know, and I will retract my statement about him not caring for anyone but himself. But if he doesn’t, will you do me a favor and forget you ever met Jude Ryder?”

I wasn’t sure whether I shook or nodded my head, but Officer Murphy was right about one thing.

I never did get that call a few days or a few weeks later.

CHAPTER SIX

First day of school. Brand new school. Senior year.

Those people that say a hell doesn’t exist are so wrong.