“Yeah, well, you grow up in the South . . . ,” Derrick offered. “Anyway, I think I was showing off for Maeve. Which is so stupid on so many levels.”
“Do you have any cigarettes, Keith?” Jonathan asked. “I need a cigarette.”
“You don’t smoke,” I said, digging them out.
“Just give me a fucking cigarette.”
“I’ll take one, too,” Derrick said.
Soon we were all exhaling into the darkness. And for a second, I wondered if this moment with my friends was the beginning of my salvation. If I could just claw my way back to a place where we were all fucked up to the same degree, everything might be okay. I didn’t need to be perfect for my friends. I just needed to be less of a complete and total disaster.
“Why did it sound like Finch knows about the roof?” Derrick asked me.
“I thought maybe you’d told him.”
“You can’t be serious?” he said. “I know better than to trust Finch.”
“So do I,” I said, feeling more bothered about the comment now. What the hell had Finch been talking about?
“Maybe it was a lucky guess?” Jonathan offered.
“Yeah, right,” I said, and then took a long drag.
Derrick frowned. “I don’t know, with that last email— ”
There was a sudden bright flash through the trees, like a lightning strike.
“What the hell was that?” Jonathan said. A second later, there was a much larger flash and more light in the distance, steady and growing. “Holy shit. I think the house is on fire.”
Bright orange flames were still licking up toward the second-floor windows from the pile of boards when we reached the house. Stephanie was spraying at the bottom with a garden hose, shielding her face with an arm. It shouldn’t have been working— the flames too tall, the fire too hot. But it was, as she inched closer with the confidence of someone who’d put out a thousand fires before.
This was definitely the guys from Staten Island. Professional. Scary. But precise. No one hurt because they didn’t want us to be— yet.
“Here, let me help,” I said, taking the hose from Stephanie. Gripping it sent pins and needles shooting down my hands, but it was the least I could do. Like everything else, this was my fault. If I wasn’t such a coward, I would have told my friends about Frank, would have admitted the danger I’d already put them in.
“Hey.” Jonathan pointed at Finch who was standing next to Crystal some distance back, watching the show with a little smile on his face, beer in hand. “Did you set my fucking house on fire, Finch?”
“Ha!” Finch took a big swallow of beer.
“I’m serious.” Jonathan took a step closer. “Did you?”
“So between me and the guys you owe eleven thousand dollars to, who set up those boards like that and showed up here threatening you— you’re going with me?”
“He was inside with us when the fire happened, Jonathan,” Maeve offered delicately. “It wasn’t him. I don’t see how it could have been.”
“I think we should call the police,” Stephanie said.
Jonathan nodded, but did not look convinced. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, I’d rather not get the police involved if possible.”
“The last thing I want is to be dealing with the cops in this town, trust me,” Stephanie said. “But this is getting out of control.”
“I think it’s out,” I said. The wood was still smoldering, but only slightly.
Finch started a loud, slow clap. “Thank you, Keith,” he sang. “Our. Hero.”
“Enough, Finch,” Derrick said. “We’re all tired of your bullshit.”
Finch smiled— so satisfied. “What if I say it’s not enough, Derrick? What are you going to do? Beat me up?”
“Finch, come on,” I said. Least I could do was try to redirect him. “Let’s go inside and get a drink.”
But Derrick had taken a step closer. “Shut the fuck up, Finch. I’m serious.”
Finch took a step back, then looked around at all of us. “Y’all don’t know this, but Derrick loves getting mean with his hands. Used to beat the shit out of people. Almost killed a kid back when we were little.” Finch turned back to Derrick, whose face was flushed. His hands were balled into fists. “Gave him permanent brain damage. To this day, his parents have to feed him. Kid was a bully, sure, but Derrick had laid him out with one punch. Could have stopped there. But no, he kept on wailing on him because he liked it. Got arrested for it and everything. Lucky for him he was only twelve at the time.”