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Jules

“ Y ou’re seriously going to sit there and tell me you can’t do anything to get a bail set?

Come on, Rick, you and I both know you can.

” Beckett is pacing in the kitchen while Tucker is nose-deep in his computer, scouring footage from cameras he hacked into outside of Odie’s house and just down the street.

He’s looking for any sign of the killer so he can take it to the cops and prove Riley wasn’t there.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting here, doing absolutely nothing because none of my skills are applicable right now.

All while the man I’m falling for is trapped in a cell.

Because I need to do something, I leave the kitchen and head up the stairs toward the room he’s staying in.

As he’s been doing all morning, Romeo follows me, sticking to my side like a shadow.

After pushing open the door, I inhale deeply, letting the scent of his aftershave fill my lungs and ease a bit of my anxiety. He’ll be home soon. He has to be. Right? He didn’t kill Odie, so they can’t hold him for long.

Unless Dodger found a way to pin the evidence on Riley.

My gaze lands on his Bible. It’s resting on his nightstand, his name in gold on the front. I run my fingers over the front of it. “God, why is this happening?” I whisper aloud. “Please help me. Please help him.” Tears blur my vision.

I just want all of this to end. I want Dodger behind bars and Riley freed.

I want to be free from the weight of the past. Desperately.

But how? When all of the cards are stacked against us, how do we move forward?

“You change the rules, girl.” My grandfather’s words hit me out of nowhere, as does the memory accompanying them. I’d been drying out in a facility, and he’d come to visit me. I told him that I didn’t know how to move forward when all I could think about was the alcohol.

“I can’t win this, Grandpa. I can’t beat it. It’s too strong, and I’m too weak.”

“Do you want to know what you do when it feels like you’re playing a losing game?

You change the rules, girl. Stop playing by the book, and shift the narrative.

You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, and the demons you’re fighting now?

You will defeat them. I know you can. But only if you start looking for your strength elsewhere. ”

I look down at the Bible again. He’d been referring to God. He’d wanted me to turn to Him in the moments when everything felt bleakest, but I was always too ashamed. Too afraid that He would also turn away from me.

I think I forgot that He never will.

Just as I did when we were back at the ranch, I turn to a random page in the worn Bible. Then I scan the verses in Mark 4 that Riley has already highlighted.

“When Jesus woke up, he rebuked the wind and said to the waves, ‘Silence! Be still!’ Suddenly, the wind stopped, and there was a great calm. Then he asked them, ‘Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?’”

Faith. I feel like I’ve been fighting my whole life to find it. My grandfather tried so hard to share his with me, but I was too broken. Too lost to see that God has always been there. That Jesus was beside me even when I felt alone.

He alone can calm the storm.

He alone can help us in these moments when everything feels hopeless.

And then it hits me—a plan. An idea that might just work.

Tears stream down my cheeks. Change the rules of the game.

Right now, we’re only playing by the rules Dodger set out for us.

He holds all the cards.

And maybe it’s time I take them away.

I look down at Romeo. “I’m going to bring him home, okay, boy?”

I haven’t been to Glen Dodger’s house since my grandfather brought me here when I was fourteen. I’d swam in his pool then, thinking it was an innocent pool party and not at all noticing that I was being watched the entire time.

After I got home, I never wanted to be in this place again. And nothing has changed even now as I stand on the front porch of his large estate, buzzed in by his maid.

Lord, grant me strength.

I take a deep breath.

Then knock.

A few moments pass before the door opens, and his wife, Helena, pulls open the door, a friendly smile on her face. I don’t know her well, but I do know that they got married shortly after I returned home.

I always wondered if it wasn’t a way for him to hide what he’d done to me. It would be less believable if the doctor had a loving wife, right? A family?

“Jules, it’s so nice to see you. Is everything all right?”

“I would like to speak to your husband. I found some stuff of my grandfather’s and wanted to see if he knew what they meant.”

“Of course, honey, come on in. Glen is currently out, but he should be home any minute.” She ushers me inside and closes the door.

My heart pounds as I stare at a portrait of him on the wall, standing right beside her. Does she even realize that the man she’s married to is a monster? Or does he hide it so well she doesn’t suspect it?

There’s a part of me that honestly feels bad for her. Then, there’s another part of me that can’t believe there aren’t at least some signs she can see.

A part that believes she ignores them because of the perks she gets as his wife. The big house, expensive car, jewelry, clothes—what does she ignore so she can keep all of that?

She leads me into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? I was just about to make a fresh pot of coffee.”

“Coffee would be great, thanks.”

“Absolutely.” She adds some coffee beans to the basket then slips it into the coffee maker and hits a button on the front before she turns to me. “I was so sorry to hear about your brother. A friend of Glen’s called when the body was brought in.” She winces. “And that was so callous of me.”

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And thanks. I think I’m still in shock.”

“And why wouldn’t you be? After everything you’ve been through. I have to say, I’m impressed by your strength. I would have already crumpled into a ball by now.”

This is the most I’ve ever spoken to the woman, and every word she says grates against my fraying nerves. “Crumpling doesn’t make things happen. And right now, I have a lot to handle.”

She smiles warmly at me. “I completely understand.” The coffeepot beeps, so she retrieves two mugs and turns her back to me as she fills them with coffee. With her back turned, I take a moment to study the kitchen.

The appliances are pristine, the counters polished.

Yet, all I can see is dirt. The griminess of the room he held me in when we were overseas. The bugs that would come in with him whenever he opened the door. I’m sure the place he’d been staying looked like this.

Clean.

But he kept me in the dirt.

I clench my hands into fists.

I can do this because I am not alone.

“Here you go. Let’s head into the living room.

We’ll be much more comfortable there.” She starts walking, so I take my mug of coffee and follow her into a living area with two white couches, a high-back chair with a floral pattern, and a long coffee table.

She takes a seat in the chair, so I take one on the couch, then take a drink of my coffee.

“So how long have you two been married now?” I ask, trying to make small talk that won’t lead to bigger topics.

“Nearly ten years,” she replies. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that man. He’s my everything.”

Bile sears my throat. All I can do is force a smile and nod, then take another drink of my coffee.

“Is it true that Riley Hunt was arrested for Odie’s murder? I cannot believe it. I just met those men a couple of days ago. They all seemed so kind.”

“He didn’t kill Odie,” I reply, my tone a bit harsher than it should be.

“No?”

“No,” I reply. “They got into an altercation at the hospital, and he was picked up for questioning.”

“Well then, I’m sure the truth will come out. He’s a handsome one. Are you two an item?” She blushes. “Forgive me, I’m a romantic at heart. And the idea of you falling in love with your bodyguard is just too charming.”

Sweat begins to bead along my skin.

My heart starts to race.

And then, my vision wavers.

“What is—” I trail off, words slurring like I’m drunk. No. What is happening?

“The effects will wear off in a few hours, dear,” she says as she sets her mug down. A large man in a black suit comes out of a back room. His hair is cut short to his scalp, his expression stone-cold. “But I’m afraid that, by then, it’ll be too late.”