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 breasts 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 wouldn’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*cking 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—”
Rather than listen further, I disconnected the call. I tried for a pulse one more time, and I still couldn’t tell if I felt one or not through the shaking of my hands. I did a quick check of his mouth to make sure his airway was clear, and then I began chest compressions.
I did them quickly, counting all the way to thirty. Then I gave two breaths of air into the man’s mouth.
As I surfaced, Stacy grabbed onto my arm. I glanced at her briefly, but then got back to the compressions.
“I can’t get caught behind the wheel, Brody,” Stacy said.
My head snapped sideways to look at her. “What?”
“I can’t get arrested. I’ve been drinking, and my dad’s in an election year. I can’t get caught for this.”
I continued pumping the man’s chest, mentally counting, but I managed to say, “What are you saying?”
“Say you were driving. Tell the cops you were driving.”
Not even responding to that craziness, I just leaned over for two more breaths. I checked his pulse again and I actually think I felt one, which made me feel immensely relieved.
As I started compressions again, Stacy started crying. “Please Brody… please say it was you. You probably don’t have as much alcohol in your system. My father will help you… I swear. He’ll be so grateful. I bet he can even get you out of it. But he can’t have his daughter getting arrested. It’s public record.”
I didn’t even look at her, but I considered what she was saying. I had three beers… I was probably fine. The guy was in the middle of the street… it’s not like we ran of the road and hit him. I felt a pulse on this guy. Hopefully, he would survive. All things that were in my favor right now. I finished the compressions and gave two more breaths.
“Brody… please,” Stacy implored in between sobs. “If you love me…”
My head turned to her, and my heart broke when I saw the misery on her face. I loved her so much, and I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms at that moment and assure her it would be okay.
Blue lights flashed across her pale visage, and I realized a police car was pulling up. I resumed my compressions, because I couldn’t let up on those until the paramedics got there. Stacy lurched to her feet and walked over to the cop’s car, and then I was rewarded with sounds of a siren in the distance getting closer. I could finally see an ambulance flying up West Franklin, straight at us.
I gave two more breaths of air, and then started pumping the man’s chest again. Was it my imagination, or did his skin seem to be getting colder? I reached down quickly to check for his pulse, and once again… maybe I felt a flutter.
Two paramedics came jogging up to me. One clasped me on the shoulder. “Go ahead and step back, sir. Let us take over.”
I fell backward on my butt and crab walked back a few feet to get out of their way. Glancing over, I saw Stacy talking to the cop. He looked up at me, his face grim.
The one paramedic said, “I’m not getting a pulse. Let’s…”
“Mr. Markham,” I heard, turning to see the police officer standing there. “Can you step over here and talk to me?”
I pushed up off the ground, my legs still feeling as shaky as ever. Now that some of the adrenaline was waning, I noticed both of my knees were hurting. A quick glance down revealed blood pouring from cuts to each one. I guess the dashboard got me.
Following the police officer who led me back toward his car, I saw Stacy standing there, wringing her hands in worry. I gave her a tentative smile, which she tried to return, but failed dismally.
When he reached his car, the cop gave a nod in Stacy’s direction. “Miss Hutchens informed me you were driving the car, is that correct?”
I looked at Stacy, and her eyes were pleading. Glancing back to the cop, I watched as he pointedly looked over at Stacy’s car with the driver’s door still wide open, the air bag hanging limp and deflated from the steering wheel. He stared at it a moment, and then looked back to me.
“Were you driving?”
I was still staring at Stacy’s car, and it hit me hard. Her seat was pulled all the way up as Stacy tops out at just a little over five feet, a good foot shorter than I am. There’s no way my body was sitting in that seat. Looking back at Stacy, I saw fresh tears running down her face. While I was so conflicted over what to do, one thing still rang true… I loved her more than anything in my life.
Turning to the police officer, I said, “Yeah… I was driving.”
He only stared at me a moment… but in that intense scrutiny, I knew he doubted me. Disbelief was written all over his face, yet he was going to accept my word on that. It clicked then—that Stacy must have told him who her father was—and I knew this cop was going to close his eyes to what was really going on. “Have you been drinking, sir?”
“Yes,” I answered him truthfully. “I had three beers tonight.”
“Alright,” he said with a sigh. “Will you consent to taking a Breathalyzer test?”
Oh shit. Would I? Should I? Three beers. What would that mean for me? I’m a pretty big guy, and I didn’t feel drunk. Another quick glance at Stacy showed her brows drawn inward with worry. It made me hesitate.
“Sir, if you don’t take this test, it’s an automatic loss of your license for a year.”
My head started spinning. How did everything get so out of control, so fast? I looked over at the paramedics, and they were loading the man Stacy hit onto the stretcher. I asked God to look over him and to not let him die. If God could grant me just one request in this entire f*cked-up scenario… it would be to not let that man die.
“But he died,” Alyssa says softly, and it’s just now that I notice her fingers are interlaced with mine as we walk across the cool sand. Lights from one of the fishing piers twinkle in the distance, and the moon hangs low, giving us plenty of light.
“He died, and I got arrested for Felony Death by Vehicle because I was legally drunk.”
“And you took the fall,” she says bitterly, giving my hand a squeeze. It’s a nice sensation… warm, comforting, and peaceful. Completely the opposite of the rage I was experiencing toward Stacy last week.
“I wasn’t angry about it… not at first,” I admit to her. “I believed Stacy when she told me her dad could get me out of it. And then when he couldn’t get me out of it, I believed her when she said he could get my sentence reduced. I loved her so much that I was willing to go to jail for her.”
Even I understand how f*cked up that sounds at this very moment. How young, stupid, and idealized I was back then. Life kicked me in the balls, and I know that there isn’t another woman on this planet that could get me to make a sacrifice like that again. I wouldn’t trust anyone enough to ever make that sacrifice again.
“I feel like there’s more to the Stacy part of the story,” Alyssa murmurs softly, but I can still hear her over the waves that are rolling onto the shore.
I shrug my shoulders. “She never intended to stay with me, and her father never intended to help me.”
“How do you know?” she asks, and I know that Alyssa is the type that will always give someone the benefit of the doubt.
“Because they told me. Threw it in my face as soon as the judge handed down my sentence.”
“What?” Alyssa practically screeches, and she squeezes my fingers so hard I’m afraid she may break them. She stops dead in her tracks, and I turn to look at her as she releases me from her death grip. “They flat out told you that?”
“Yeah… both of them came to see me in the holding room at the courthouse before I got transported to the prison processing facility in Raleigh. Her dad taunted and then threatened me. Told me that he could never let his daughter be with someone with a record, so there was no sense in him wasting favors that he would have to call in to help me out. Stacy was at least apologetic about it. Said she was sorry but that she just couldn’t go against her father, and that his political career was too important. She asked me not to contact her again.”
“Oh, Brody… what did you do?”
“I threatened to tell the truth… that Stacy was the one driving. But her dad just laughed at me. He dared me to do it. Said no one would believe me, and that nothing would overturn the conviction, but that he would find it amusing to watch me do so. Then he told me, if I was foolish enough to do it, he’d ruin my family.”
“F*cking bastard,” Alyssa growls, and I couldn’t agree with her more.
“I talked to my attorney about it. Told him the cop had seen the seat pulled all the way up, and my blood from the cuts on my knees would have been assuredly on the dashboard. After he cursed me up and down for keeping the truth from him, he sadly told me it was just too late. That there just wasn’t anything that could be done since I admitted to the crime. We’d have to show I had been treated unfairly by the court in some way, and we just couldn’t do it since I admitted to it.”
“She strung you along the entire time, didn’t she? So you wouldn’t change your story.”
“Yeah… right up until the few minutes before sentencing, she assured me that her dad had it all handled and not to worry. She even kissed me and told me she loved me.” I grimace as I remember that moment, and bile gurgles at the base of my throat. “Stacy had even told me to expect something like six months in the county jail. I mean, I chose to plead guilty based on her promise that I’d only get six months. When I got sentenced to the seventy-four months in state prison, the first person I looked at was her dad. He was in the courtroom, standing near the back door. He just smirked at me and walked out.”
Alyssa takes my hand again and turns back so we start walking toward her cottage. “Why won’t you tell your family?”
“They already suffered so much with their son in prison. It will devastate them to know I was innocent. It’s just easier this way.”
“It’s not fair,” Alyssa grumbles. “It’s injustice at its finest.”
“Maybe so,” I tell her. “But promise me you won’t tell anyone. It’s done.”
“Of course I won’t,” she quickly assures me. “Whatever you want.”
Whatever I want?
There are too many things to list, but none of them are very viable. I’m not a man that gets what he wants, whether it’s from bad luck or the fates.
I know better than to even wish for anything good.