Sin With Me

42

I have paperwork left.

Thank God I didn’t own a pet, because it would be dead. If I hadn’t slept at Brody’s house last night, I’d be dead.

Getting drunk saved my life.

Kat saved my life.

Brody’s housewarming party saved my life.

Brody saved my life.

My mind is a soup of chaotic thoughts, swimming in stress hormones, churning with what-ifs. Only one thing’s for certain: I’ve escaped death twice. That’s two more times than most people get.

Which gives the phrase “third time’s a charm” a whole new meaning. That warped thought makes me laugh, only it sounds more like I’m choking.

Brody’s brow wrinkles with worry. “Let’s go inside.”

He gently guides me into the house. I’m dripping wet, doing my best impression of a leaf in gale-force winds. The brain floods the body with the hormone cortisol when under stress, and I’m pretty sure my brain just opened the floodgates and let loose its entire store.

“Sit on the sofa.”

“I’ll ruin the leather.”

“f**k the leather. Sit.”

I follow his command and sink to the sofa, immediately grateful I’m no longer standing because the room has started to narrow and fade.

“You’re hyperventilating, Grace. Put your head between your knees and take deep breaths.”

Dizzy, I bend over my legs, close my eyes, and suck air into my lungs. Brody puts his hand on my back and begins to rub circles, the movements slow and steadying.

Steadying for my pulse, not for my mind.

Maybe this is some kind of twisted sign.

Maybe Marcus was wrong when he said the universe doesn’t pick people out for misfortune. Maybe I’m one of those people who bad luck shadows all their lives.

Maybe I’m cursed.

“Give me your phone.”

My knuckles are white around the phone I’m still clutching in my hand. Inhaling another shaky breath, I allow Brody to gently peel my fingers away and take it from me.

“Magda! We need towels!” he calls out.

She must have anticipated this request, because no sooner has he made it than she appears from around the corner of the living room with a bundle of bright beach towels in her arms. She takes one look at me hunched over on the couch and exclaims, “Ai! Mija! Estas blanca como un fantasma!”

You’re as white as a ghost.

Brody impatiently takes the towels from her, wraps one around my shoulders, and gently wipes the water from my face. “Just sit here quietly for a minute, Grace. I think you’re in shock. Sit here until you catch your breath, then we’ll get you out of this wetsuit and into dry clothes. And then we’ll figure out what to do next. Okay?”

Numb, I nod.

Brody murmurs some instructions to Magda. I don’t pay attention to the words, only to the cadence of his voice, the strong, soothing tone of it. Flashbacks hit me with vivid intensity, memories of another time I sat white and numb in an unfamiliar place while a soothing male voice whispered words of instruction to others, the smell of antiseptic and death sharp in my nose.

Brody’s home is far more beautiful and comfortable than the emergency room at a hospital, but at the moment they feel like exactly the same thing.

BRODY

Helpless isn’t a feeling that sits well with me.

Only once before have I ever felt anything close to this level of uselessness, when things were so f****d there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Now, as it was then, my first instinct is to try to fix it.

I hope I get better results this time.

My firecracker sits still and pale on the sofa, all the life drained from her eyes. For a woman so vibrant, she looks unnervingly like a corpse.

“Magda, will you please make Grace a cup of tea?”

“Claro.” She hustles off into the kitchen, moving faster than I’ve seen her move in years.

I gently kiss Grace’s forehead, and then stride into the dining room where I can make a quiet phone call while still keeping her in my sight. Tense and pacing, I dial Nico’s number from Grace’s phone.

He picks up with a sleepy, “Yo.”

Keeping my voice low, I say, “Nico, it’s Brody.”

“Oh hey, bro. I didn’t recognize the number.” There’s rustling and a murmur in the background. A female voice asks who it is.

“s**t, man, did I wake you guys up?”

“Yeah, you did, and it better be good ’cause my beautiful fuckin’ wife’s naked next to me in bed and I’ve got some serious morning wood.”

“Jesus, dude. TMI.”

Nico chuckles. “What time is it? You okay?”

“No. Listen—turn on the local news for me.”

“The news? What’s wrong?”

I glance into the living room. Grace still sits unmoving on the sofa, staring blankly at the floor. “Grace got a call from someone at her building saying her condo blew up.”

“Blew up! What the f**k?”

“What happened? Is he okay?” In the background Kat’s voice is no longer sleepy. It’s sharp and loud.

Nico instructs her to turn on the television and find a news station. Kat says he can forget about his morning wood until he tells her what’s going on. Nico laughs, Kat squeals . . . and then there’s a suspicious silence.