Make It a Double

Page 16

  The article ends with some information about Mr. Castas. He worked at an electric co-op for the last twelve years and was survived by a wife and a three-year-old son, a fact that pains my heart, and one that I knew had to have weighed heavy on Brody.

  Except now… how hard does it weigh? He’s not the one, apparently, that killed that man. Or does he feel guilt in some other way? Clearly, the man is drowning in torment, and it’s not even his torment to suffer.

  All of this makes my head hurt.

  Brody makes my head hurt.

  He’s a man that intrigues me greatly and causes my heart to beat madly. I’m torn between wanting to hug away his pain or kiss him into pleasurable abandon. Both are born of a desire to help Brody, but the kissing part is also of benefit to me too. I cannot believe the level to which I actually lust after him. I’ve not felt this way about a man since… well, since never. Not to where I’m having very inappropriate thoughts every time he’s near me, which sucks, since apparently Brody refuses to allow anything more to happen.

  I decide to check my email quickly before logging off and heading to bed. My eyes fly over and ignore an email from my mom, because I’m sure it’s nothing more than an update on what parties she attended this past week. Another by Gabby goes unread too, because I can tell by the headline “Peed My Pants,” it’s some kind of dirty meme or something. I’ll save that for tomorrow.

  But the email from Chad gets my attention, and I open it up with a mixture of dread and annoyance. It’s simple and to the point, but completely stalkerrific.

  I’m tired of calling, and you ignoring me. How can we work on our issues when one person won’t even leave open the door of communication? You make it difficult to love you, Alyssa.

  Call me as soon as you get this email, baby. I still love you at this point.

  Shivers run up and down my spine and suddenly, I feel very vulnerable sitting out on my deck, which has an open staircase leading right down on to the beach. I’m pretty sure Chad has a screw knocked loose, and I probably need to take this a bit more seriously.

  I quickly shut my laptop, pick up my beer, and head inside. Once the glass doors are closed behind me, I lock them and set the alarm. Peering out onto the moonlit beach, it looks peaceful and serene. But between what I learned today about Brody and what I just read right now from Chad, I’m not feeling it.

  Chapter 13

  Brody

  I knock on Alyssa’s front door. I know it’s late, but I think I might crawl out of my skin if I don’t talk to her.

  It’s not setting well with me… the way I pushed her away this morning after she overheard Stacy and me. Alyssa overheard something that I never intended for another soul to know. It’s a secret so monumental that no one should have the burden of carrying it. And I laid it—inadvertently, of course—right on her doorstep, and gave her no method by which she could process it.

  No way in which she could understand it.

  I told her to forget it, to keep her mouth shut, and then I walked away.

  And after a fretful evening where I wore a hole in my carpet from the frantic pacing I did, I decided that I needed to talk to her about it.

  Only moments after knocking, I hear her door unlock and she’s opening it up. She stands there in what I’m guessing are her pajamas. A pair of loose pants in white cotton and a pale blue tank top that shows off her perfect br**sts in fine detail. Pale pink painted toes stick out from below, which is sexy as hell to me.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks quietly, not with any anger as I suspect I deserve.

  “I’m glad someone knows,” I blurt out.

  “You are?” she asks with surprise.

  “I didn’t realize how heavy that secret was. I feel like a weight has been lifted. ”

  I know she must have a million questions, and I’m ready to unburden. I wait to see if she’ll invite me in… just to talk, of course. Instead, she surprises me by stepping over her threshold and right into me. She wraps her arms around my waist and lays her cheek against my chest, just before squeezing me tight in a hug of comfort and warmth.

  My arms come up and return the embrace, wrapping around her shoulders. Her heartbeat is slow and steady, which is how I would characterize this woman.

  “What are you doing?” I ask her, because even though it’s obvious, I want to know her reasoning.

  “Giving you a hug,” she tells me simply. “I think it’s called for. ”

  To my amazement, a chuckle escapes from me and I lean down to rest my cheek against her hair. “Don’t you find it weird?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Just a week ago, I despised you. And now here we are… you know my darkest secret, and you’re cuddled up next to me. It’s just… weird. ”

  “Very weird,” she confirms. Pulling her head back to look up at me, she murmurs, “But, maybe this was fated. Maybe this was supposed to happen at this moment in your life. Maybe it was God, or Buddha, or whoever is calling the shots… maybe they felt that you needed someone to share the burden with and put me in your path. ”

  “Maybe. ”

  “Will you tell me what really happened?” she asks hesitantly, and my body stiffens involuntarily over the prospect of revisiting that night.

  Releasing my hold on her, I take a step back to look at her. Her face is so sympathetic, and she’s worried for me. It’s as I suspected… she’ll carry this burden with me, lifting some of the load, and she won’t do it because I ask. She’ll do it because that’s the type of woman she is, and she has no choice but to do it.

  “Let’s go for a walk out on the beach,” I suggest as I hold out my hand to her.

  ***

  The music was pulsing in the background… Black Eyed Peas… and we had the windows down, allowing the warm summer air to swirl around us as we rode down West Franklin Street. I was starting my second year of medical school the next day, and Stacy and I had been to a college frat party. We both had a few beers, but it was nothing that caused me any concern. We’d drank that much and driven plenty of times safely before.

  We were in Stacy’s car, because I didn’t have one… poor, starving med student and all, and she had a car that cost more than my parents’ combined salary. It’s not that she was opposed to me driving it… it’s just, that night… she got in the driver’s seat, and I didn’t question it.

  “I love you, baby,” she had called out to me, the air causing her blonde hair to float all around her face.

  And God, did I love her. Everything I did… medical school, an extra job to buy her pretty things and so I could dress fashionably enough for her circle, late nights studying so I could spend time with her… it was all because I loved her.

  She took her eyes off the road for just a second… maybe two. I don’t know. It seemed like an eternity because we were looking at each other, lost in a haze of beer, love, and lust.

  But that’s all it took. Just a few seconds of carelessness.

  Something was in the middle of the road, and Stacy had no time to react other than to slam on the brakes.

  I realized it was a person we had hit as he was rolling up the hood and smashing into the windshield. I could actually see the guy’s face… his eyes open and terrified. He was still alive in that moment, and then he was gone, flipping off the roof of the car.

  We hit a tree, hard, causing the air bags to burst out in a haze of dust that left me coughing hard. Taking my seatbelt off and turning to Stacy, I immediately noticed she was conscious but had a small scrape on her forehead.

  “Baby… are you okay?” I asked as my hands cupped her face.

  She nodded hesitantly, but then tears filled her eyes. “Oh, God… did we just hit…?”

  Her words trailed off, because she was terrified to say them out loud. But they brought me back to reality, as I realized we had indeed hit someone and they needed help.

  My door wo
uldn’t open. It was jammed shut, and the dashboard of the car was pushed all the way in on my knees. Looking out past the cracked windshield, I noticed it looked like the front passenger side took the majority of the impact.

  “Stacy, can you open your door?”

  She looked at me blankly, not comprehending as tears poured down her face.

  “Stacy… baby, are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Can you move your legs?”

  I watched as she pulled them back toward her, nodding at me again.

  “Okay, good… Now I need you to open your door, so we can get out. ”

  She stared at me for a moment, and then understanding dawned. Within moments, she opened the door and had crawled out. I followed right behind, my legs shaking so hard they almost didn’t support me. I stumbled just a bit as I looked around to get my bearings.

  There… in the yellow glow of a streetlight, lay a crumpled form in the middle of the pavement.

  I wanted to run to the guy but my legs weren’t cooperating, so I half stumbled, half shuffled to him. As I got closer, I saw he was lying on his back, eyes now closed.

  Dropping to my knees beside him, I couldn’t see his chest moving. I put my fingers on his carotid, but my hands were shaking so bad I couldn’t tell if there was a pulse. One moment, I thought I felt a flutter and the next… nothing. Blood trickled from the guy’s nose, corner of his mouth, and both ears. His right leg was bent at an odd angle. This was not good.

  I looked back at Stacy and yelled, “Call 911. ”

  Stacy walked slowly toward me, her eyes pinned to the man on the ground. A low, keening noise started pouring out of her mouth, her face awash in horror. Her hands came up and grasped handfuls of hair on her head.

  “Nooooo,” Stacy screamed.

  “Stacy… call 911,” I yelled at her, but she just continued to scream and scream and scream.

  Pushing myself to my feet, I grabbed ahold of her shoulders and gave her a small shake. It stopped the screaming but she looked at me, eyes wild with fright.

  “I can’t go to jail for this,” she moaned. “I can’t. Don’t make me call the police. ”

  “Are you f**king nuts?” I yelled at her. “Call 911 for an ambulance. This guy is dying. ”

  “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” she repeated and dropped to her knees, still clutching at her hair.

  I didn’t even spare her another glance, just ran back to the car for one of our cellphones. Mine had been laying in her center console. There was no telling where it landed after impact. I knew best chance would be to get hers out of her purse, which was luckily still right under her seat.

  I easily pulled out her phone. Within seconds, I had 911 dialed and an operator was on the line.

  “Yes… there’s been an accident on West Franklin. We’ve hit a man. He’s in bad shape, and we need an ambulance. ” I couldn’t believe how shaky my voice was or how hard my blood seemed to be pumping through my body. I felt like I was going to splinter into a million pieces.

  “What’s your nearest intersection, sir?”

  I looked around frantically. “Uh… uh… Carroll Street. ”

  “What is the condition of the victim?”

  Oh, God… victim. The words were like a punch to the gut. Looking over, I saw Stacy still hunched over, crying, and the poor guy lying by himself in the middle of the road, broken and bloody.

  “I don’t think he’s breathing. I can’t tell if there’s a pulse. ”

  “I’m dispatching an ambulance right now, sir. Do you know how to do CPR?”

  Yes! I know CPR. I’ve been certified forever… since my days as a lifeguard on Hatteras.

  Running back over to the guy, I told the operator, “Yes. I know CPR. ”

  “Good… now I need you to—”