Page 57 of Grace

Even though the temperature was over a hundred degrees, the air around us froze when we looked out the window, because behind the undulating veil of a mirage, something kicked up dust. Four black Audis with tinted windows were approaching.

“They are here.”

The vehicles parked in a neat row, and four gangster-looking men stepped out of each one. They were wearing dark suits, shiny, expensive shoes, and black sunglasses. Then, some time later, a fifth car appeared. One of the men opened the car door for his boss.

I had been expecting a stereotypical, tattooed criminal—but this guy looked more like a businessman, with an air of authority about him that scared me to death.

“It’s him,” Jamie whispered in a paper-thin voice.

“Don’t go,” I begged.

“I have to… I have to tell him and ask for more time.” Jamie was trembling with fear, but he steeled himself and stepped out onto the front porch.

I watched from the window as he walked up to those guys, my heart beating at a crazed pace, my throat dry. I held my breath while I waited for their discussion to end.

The boss took off his sunglasses, nodding as he wiped the dust from the lenses without looking at Jamie. It was obvious he despised him.

He probably thought he was a half-naked, unkempt junkie, a loser trying to trick him with his endless excuses.

I was breathing shallowly and hoped the man would understand Jamie’s situation—that he’d give him a bit more time.

But they made Jamie kneel down in the dust. I know it wasn’t a smart move, but I started moving and ran out onto the porch in tears.

“Stop!” I shouted. “Leave him alone!”

I put my weight on the first stair.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

The rotten wood gave way—it broke apart under my right leg, tearing my pants and scraping my skin.

“Please, leave him alone!” I shouted and frantically tried to escape, wriggling like a worm trapped under a rock. I pounded the wood with my fists in anger because I couldn’t free myself. As I tried to pull my leg out, the broken board pressed even deeper into my thigh.

The man flashed me an icy smile, his face arrogant and self-satisfied. He nodded. One of his men stepped behind my brother, pulled out his gun, and shot him in the head.

The world around me froze for a second. Blood sprayed from my brother’s skull, then his lifeless body crumpled into the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust. The shot thundered in my head, making my ears ring. My head buzzed as if a thousand bees were inside it.

“Noo!” I shouted. Then they pointed their guns at me. “Jamie!” I pounded the stairs with my hands while warm, thick blood oozed from my leg. “Jamie!” I sobbed.

“Let her be,” the mob boss said angrily, then sat back in the car. There was something familiar about his voice, something I felt like I’d heard before. But my brain froze. I flailed helplessly and pounded on that goddamn wooden stair as they drove away.

It took hours to free myself. I crawled to Jamie’s body like a worm. My wound was full of dirt, itching and burning.

“Jesus! Jamie!”

I stroked his bloody hair with trembling fingers, then limped into the house, crying. I rummaged in Jamie’s room, searching for his phone, and when I found it, I called Nikky. She didn’t pick up.

“Fuck!” I tossed the phone onto the couch angrily, crouched down in the corner, then rocked back and forth. The shock and anxiety made me tremble nonstop. I lost the capacity to think rationally. My mind kept replaying the murder and the voice of the man in the suit.

I should’ve called Cyrus. I should’ve asked for help, but I was dumb enough to choose my sister. I knew that if there was an investigation, Nikky would go to jail. I wanted to protect her, because she was all I had left. But I hadn’t forgotten about my brother, either. I couldn’t leave his body there. It took a lot of effort to pull him behind the house, then I covered him with a blanket.

I went into the house, bathed, then cleaned and bandaged my wound. Meanwhile, I kept calling Nikky nonstop. I crouched on the couch, my eyes red and burning. My heart raced from all the adrenaline and throbbed from all the crying—and from the knowledge that I was being weak and acting ridiculous. What idiot doesn’t call the police and hides her brother’s body behind the house instead?

These were the thoughts I kept mulling over when Nikky finally arrived. I saw the headlights of her Chevrolet pass over the bare beams.