Page 107 of Luck of the Draw

“It’s called a superhero pose,” Liza went on. “Or a power pose. They call it a power pose because studies have shown that standing like this for a few minutes causes a slight increase in testosterone levels, which is a dominance hormone. It also decreases cortisol, which is a stress hormone.” Liza drew in a deep breath through her nose and then blew it out through her mouth. “Basically, it gives you a confidence boost.”

Skye didn’t say anything, but she did continue to hold the pose and even lifted her chin higher. Seconds slid away, and Skye mirrored Liza’s deep inhale and exhale.

“Anytime you need to feel brave…like right now…” Liza said, “do this pose for a couple of minutes.”

Another couple of seconds stretched, and a sob burst out of Skye’s mouth. Liza turned her head to look at her. Skye pressed her eyes shut and lifted her chin higher. Her face was tilted toward the sky like she was a sunflower straining for the light. Tears spilled from her eyes in long, thin streams that trailed over her cheeks, her jaw, down the sides of her neck, and her pouty bottom lip was trembling wildly.

“You’ve got this, hon,” Liza murmured. “It’s okay to cry. But just keep holding the pose. Trust me, girly.” Her voice was steady, but there was now a stream of tears spilling out of her eyes, too.

The two women just stood there like that for a while and watching them felt curiously like something had wrapped Brennan’s aching heart in a warm hug.

“I know you barely know me,” Liza eventually added, “but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I’ll help you however you need. Even after you leave. Even if you never speak to him again. You can get a hold of me for anything, no matter what it is, no matter when you need it. I’ll be here. I’m here. I choose to be here.”

Brennan silently closed the door, his own eyes starting to burn. He turned to walk away, but Connor was right behind him. There was no way to hide his show of emotions, so Brennan just dropped his face toward the floor, stepping around Connor and starting back to the front living room.

He coughed away the lump in his throat. “That wife of yours is something else, Sarge.”

Connor slapped Brennan’s back and then let his hand linger between his shoulders all the way back to the living room. “Yep.”

The two men took their same seats and waited in silence for the women to return. When they finally did, Liza sat back down on the couch where she’d been before, but Skye paused on the edge of the living room. The entire countenance of her face had changed. She turned, left the room, and then returned about a minute later.

She was now carrying one of the crystal tumblers, filled with a generous pour of scotch, and she crossed the room to sit in a stiff-backed armchair near the fireplace. The look in her crystalline blue eyes was no longer vacant. Something was there now. Something hard.

She crossed her legs and cocked her head like she was totally out of fucks to give.

Brennan eyed her nervously.

Balancing the crystal tumbler on her knee, Skye twirled her ankle in a circle and began to speak. “So, my mother had no money, no education, and she took up with a deadbeat loser, AKA my father. He was a drug addict. And he drank too much. And he got angry. He took out his anger on my mother and me. When he was really drunk or high, he didotherthings. It started when I was four.”

“Other things,” Connor suddenly said, and Brennan cast a wary glance at him. “You mean like he—”

“It was all manner of abuse.” She waved the glass at the two men. “Let your imaginations run wild. My family wasn’t anything like y’all’s are.”

Connor sat back in the chair and drew his finger back and forth across his upper lip. Liza was clutching the small pendant on her thin, platinum necklace, eyebrows knitted. Brennan gritted his teeth.

Of course it was something like that.

“When I was eight,” Skye continued, “he was blowed out of his mind one night and really let us have it. He beat my mom with some kitchen utensil that I couldn’t identify because I’d run out of the room screaming and locked myself in a closet. The police came later, took him away, took me away, and my mom was off to the hospital. She died about eight weeks later. He went to prison. Died of a heart attack a number of years later. I went to foster care.”

Skye looked at Brennan and arched an eyebrow. “How ya doing, sweetheart? Should I stop? Or are younot fazed?”

He swallowed. “Not fazed.” Not the truth, but how he felt about all of it couldn’t have mattered less. He tilted his glass toward her. “Keep going.”

“Very well.” She sipped the scotch and crossed her legs in the opposite direction. “I went to foster care. I was in the system for eight years. I bounced around a lot of different homes because apparently, I’m just a magnet for the same kind of shit my father was into, so they had to keep sending me to different places. When I was sixteen, I started sneaking out and trying to run away. I figured I could take better care of myself than a bunch of alcoholics and late-night-creepy-uncle types who sayI love youjust so they can sneak under your blanket and get their rocks off. And that brings me to Jesse, my piece of shit ex we encountered today.”

She paused for a long time. Her knuckles were white as she death-gripped her glass. “Maybe I should just pack my shit now so I can get out of here as soon as I finish this God-awful story.”

“Skye,” Brennan spoke up, “no. Absolutely not. I don’t even have words for how fucking awful all of that is, but if you think it makes me want you to leave, you couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t know what that piece of shit has convinced you of, but nobody turns someone out over—”

“That’s not what’s gonna make you throw me out of your house,” she snapped, cocked like a pistol and ready to fire. “Fasten your fucking seatbelt, Brennan, because I’mreallyabout to blow your mind. And not in the way I know you like.” She glanced at Connor and Liza. “Sorry, y’all. TMI.”

Neither of them said anything. Liza was dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Connor’s jaw pulsed as he stared at the floor.

“Anyway, so Jesse…” Skye swirled her glass as she stared at it and broke into a quick, sardonic laugh. “I love the internet, y’all. I only just got a smartphone last year, and its handy little web browser allowed me to learn that Jesse is a sociopath. A master manipulator. I met him one night when I’d snuck out of the house. I bumped into him at the Waffle House over on Canal.” She cast a placid glance at Brennan and Connor. “It’s next to the VA. Do you know it?”

Connor shook his head and dropped his chin into his palm while resting his elbow on the arm of his chair. Brennan met her eyes and gave her an unyielding stare but said nothing.

“Jesse fell in love with me at first sight.” She paused and looked at Liza, who was clutching the tissue to her nose. “That’s what he told me after an hour of talking to me.” Skye lifted the glass to the level of her mouth, but merely stared at it as she sank back into the chair. “Men sure do toss that word around easily.” She cut a glance at Brennan and crossed her legs again. “They only say it when they’re trying to get something from you. And Jesse had big plans for me from the second he laid eyes on me. He helped me escape from my foster nightmare because helovedme, and he was going to take care of me because helovedme, and I had to fuck him because helovedme, and he smacked me around because helovedme, andlove, love, love. He did it all for thelove, right, y’all? Nothing butloo-oove.” She scoffed. “I believed that shit. And then after about three weeks, he started talking about how he couldn’t pay rent. And I needed to pull my weight.”

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