Losing Faith: The Seth & Trista series

Chapter 2

Seth

January 7th

Gray clouds blocked all traces of the sun. Trees barren of leaves stood as proof that winter had definitely arrived. Seth strolled up the small hill with a bouquet of white roses wrapped in red paper. Lexi’s favorite.

He reached the top of the hill and stopped in front of a large, gray stone set beneath a maple tree. Seth bent down, brushing leaves from the stone. He set the flowers on the ground in front of it and ran his hand across the engraved letters. LEXI STORM. It had been a year since her death. A year since he had last been here.

I really messed up this time, Lex. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I wish you were here right now. You always knew what to do. He picked up a small pebble and bounced it in his hand a few times before letting it fall between his fingers. I just don’t know how we got here, baby. I mean, we had it all, didn’t we? The record was taking off. We had a gorgeous baby girl with your hazel eyes and my love for music. Hell, we even had that house with the white picket fence in the country you always wanted. He remembered the first time Lexi had seen that house. For a man who tended to get more wrong than right, Seth had definitely gotten it right that day.

It had been a particularly wet spring that year. It seemed the rain would never stop. After finally seeing some real sunlight one afternoon, Seth had grabbed his keys and headed for the country roads outside of Music City, looking for some inspiration for his next song. Instead, he found something even better. Something that caused him to stop and park his car on the side of the road. He had stared at the old farmhouse for at least ten minutes, imagining the three of them living there. It was the type of house that Lexi would go crazy over. Seth removed his sunglasses and walked up the long gravel driveway.

The wooden steps leading to the oversized porch creaked beneath his feet. The old man who answered the door told him that the house wasn’t for sale. But when Seth told him what he’d be willing to pay, he thought for sure the old man was going to throw in his old lady as part of the deal. They shook hands, and that was that.

Four weeks went by, and Seth kept quiet. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. Once the older couple had moved out, Seth arranged for a date night with Lexi.

He drove Lexi to Salvatori’s downtown. It was a place that normally required months on a waiting list to get in, but not for Seth Storm, an up-and-coming country star. They pulled into the parking lot, and an attendant walked up, waiting for them to get out.

Seth couldn’t stand it any longer. He turned to Lexi and pulled out a blindfold. Put this on, he said. His hands trembled with anticipation.

She shot him a strange look. Why? We’re already here.

Change of plans, he said, hoping she wouldn’t press him further. She looked at the blindfold and then into his eyes. Trust me.

Lexi smiled, took the blindfold, and tied it around her head.

Seth didn’t say a word as they drove off, and neither did Lexi. For twenty-five minutes, the two drove in complete silence. Butterflies tickled Seth’s stomach as he prepared himself for her reaction. Although he was considered the spontaneous one in the relationship, he hadn’t done anything as crazy as buying a house without first consulting Lexi, and he wasn’t exactly sure how she’d react to that.

He finally pulled the car over in front of the old farmhouse.

Are we here?

Yes, we’re here. He took a deep breath and then shut off his car. Wait right here. He climbed out of the car and walked over to the passenger side before carefully helping her out. Then he removed her blindfold and waited for her eyes to adjust. It’s all ours, he said, unable to hide the pride in his voice.

Lexi didn’t say a word. Seconds passed as she stared. Then she walked over to the white picket fence that bordered the front and back yards and placed a hand on the gate before slowly opening it. She stared at it as if expecting something to happen.

Do you like it?

She shook her head, and for a moment Seth thought that he had blown it. But then she turned to him with tears running down her cheeks and said, I love it.

They spent the next hour going through each room as she went on and on about the things she couldn’t wait to do to the place. Seth didn’t say much as he listened. All he could think about was how happy she was.

They held hands as they walked out onto the porch on their way back to the car. He felt her stop. Is everything okay?

She looked up at the house and then back at Seth. I don’t want to leave.

Well, we kind of have this little girl who’s expectin’ us home.

I know, she said, letting out a sigh. Thank you. I love this place.

Seth placed his hands on her waist. Are you sure you love it?

She wrapped her arms around him, interlacing her fingers behind his neck. I do.

I love it when you say those two words.

She leaned in closer, brushing her lips against his ear, and whispered, I do.

They danced on that old wooden porch with nothing but the moonlight shining down on them. It was the first and last time they danced on that porch.

A cool breeze sent leaves floating across Lexi’s stone, bringing Seth back to the cemetery. I should’ve danced with you every day on that porch, Lex. A lump formed at the back of his throat. I should’ve done a lot of things differently. If I had...you’d still be here. And our little girl would have her mother. His jaw tightened as he forced back the tears, but it was no use. They rolled down his cold cheeks and fell onto the white roses.

The sun began its descent, and he knew it was time to go. He placed a hand on Lexi’s stone. I’ve messed up. I still don’t know exactly what I’m doing. But I will make things right, Lex. No matter what it takes, I will get our daughter back.

He turned and headed back down the small hill. He thought about Faith and wondered how often she thought of him. And if those thoughts were of disappointment. After missing his flight a few weeks ago, Seth thought for sure that he had lost Faith for good, but his attorney, an old family friend from Fort Wayne, had pulled a few strings and gotten him another hearing. A second chance. And Seth wasn’t about to mess it up this time.

He continued walking toward the entrance of the cemetery. The long walk had given him time to prepare for his visit, but after looking at the gray clouds above, he hoped it hadn’t been a mistake. As the main entrance came into view, he spotted a large white tow truck loading up his Mustang.

Hey! he shouted. A man wearing a white ball cap turned around and looked at Seth. He smiled and then climbed into his truck.

Seth ran after the truck. Stop! That’s my car. The truck slowed and then came to a stop. The man inside held out his hand and gave Seth the finger before taking off again and vanishing down the road.

Seth continued running, not knowing what else to do. His car was about the only thing he had left, and he needed it. He ran until he had nothing left. Finally, he doubled over and grabbed his side. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. Then he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the one person who could help him.

Hello?

Max, Seth said, still trying to catch his breath. You know who this is?

Seth, buddy. How’s it goin’?

Oh, pretty good. Be better if I had my car. Anger surged through Seth’s veins as he tried not to yell.

What? Where’s your car?

The last I saw, she was strapped to the back of a tow truck, heading down the road. He heard Max let out a sigh and imagined him massaging his temples the way he often did when Seth sat across from him in his office. Yeah, Max, I’m not happy about it myself.

Seth, listen. I’m sorry about your car. But we’ve had this conversation before.

Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’d remember the part where you said I’d be stranded on the side of the road without my car. Max, you’re my accountant. I need you to fix this.

You’re broke, Seth. He paused as if letting the words sink in. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but the money’s gone.

How’s that possible?

Seth, come on, man. We’ve gone over this a thousand times now. Listen, I feel for you, man. I really do. But you haven’t been working for the past seven months. And we had to pay back all that money when you dropped out of the tour. You’re lucky we didn’t get sued for that.

What about the new album? Aren’t the checks coming in from that?

Are you talking about your second album, the one you released just before disappearing? Because those checks have been coming in, and they’re barely enough to keep you floating. In fact, they aren’t enough.

That makes no sense. I have a platinum album.

That’s right, Seth, but in this business, if you aren’t promoting, you’re dying. And since we’re being honest, let’s face it. Your fans didn’t exactly take it well when you checked yourself into rehab.

What are you, my publicist?

"No, I’m not. She did the best she could to shield you from negative press, but you didn’t exactly help her either. You keep shutting us out, buddy."

Seth took a seat on the side of the road and stared at the rolling gray clouds that threatened to unleash buckets of rain on him at any moment.

Seth? Are you there?

Yeah, I’m here.

There’s a solution to this problem, buddy.

Seth ran a hand through his hair. What’s that?

I was talkin’ to your manager, and he said that if you went back out on tour—

Adam? You’ve been talkin’ to Adam? About me goin’ back out on tour? Are you nuts?

It’s just a short tour. It’d be good for your image. You know, one of those Still Standing tours. Let the fans know that you’re back and you’re better than ever. You could promote your second album and send it up the charts.

You’re not listenin’ to me, Max. The answer’s no. I’m done with that life.

Max let out another long sigh. Then what’re you going to do? Sell guitars?

Although that idea was more appealing than going out on tour, Seth wanted to get as far away from the music business as he could. I don’t know. I’m headin’ back to Fort Wayne next month. Maybe I should get a job there.

Max chuckled. "Oh, that’s good. Seth Storm, gettin’ a job. Now that’s a country song if I’ve ever heard one."

Listen, Max. I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do, but I know I can’t go back to that life. It’s not for me. Not anymore. Seth stood up and wiped dirt from his pants. Right now I have to focus on getting Faith back. I have a second chance, and I’m going to be there.

Well, as your financial advisor, I have some more bad news.

Yeah, what’s that? he asked, wondering how things could get much worse than they already were.

In a couple more months, your car won’t be the only thing taken from you.

The house? he asked.

That’s right.

Seth nearly dropped the phone. His chest tightened. He tried taking a deep breath, but it did little to ease the anxiety taking over him. There’s nothing you can do?

I’ve done everything I could, buddy. It’s up to you now. Goin’ on tour is your only shot at keepin’ what’s left of your life.

Seth saw an opening in the clouds that looked as if someone had torn a hole through them. That’s where you’re wrong, Max. I’ve already lost everything.

Chapter 3

Trista Tilman

February 13th

Trista Tilman took one last look at the open suitcase on the bed before zipping it up and shoving it underneath. She straightened the covers, tucking them beneath the pillows, and noticed a large envelope at the foot of the bed. She held it in her hand, wondering how she could have forgotten the most important thing. If he’d seen this, well, let’s just say it wouldn’t have been pretty.

Hey, Trista. I’m home. He drew out the syllables in her name as if learning how to speak for the first time. Tris – ta. Like nails on a chalkboard. It was the only time she hated the sound of her own name. Then she heard the front door slam shut. Shoot. She had run out of time.

Panic settled in as she stared at the large beige envelope that was bulging at the center. She looked around for a place to stash it, but the tiny room offered few prospects for a package this big. Her heart raced as she pulled out the suitcase, slamming it onto the bed and unzipping it. She shoved the envelope inside the already stuffed suitcase and reached for the zipper. The sound of his footsteps drawing near pushed her nerves to the edge, causing her hands to shake.

Where’re you at, doll? Your man’s home and needin’ some attention, he shouted.

She pulled on the zipper, but it had gotten stuck on a piece of clothing hanging out of it. She tried backing it up, but it wouldn’t budge. Sweat formed on her forehead as she yanked on the zipper until the tips of her fingers turned white. Come on, you stupid zipper. Be right there, she shouted.

Oh, you’re in the bedroom. Well, then, I guess we can just skip supper tonight if that’s the game you wanna play.

No, she didn’t want to skip supper. Especially not tonight. She pulled the zipper back and forth, ripping a fingernail in the process. Finally she leaned on the suitcase, applying pressure until the zipper finally released and closed the rest of the way. She heard his footsteps stop just outside the door. She shoved the suitcase back under the bed, hitting her shin with it in the process.

The doorknob turned, and the bedroom door opened as she spun around to face him. What’re you up to in here? he asked, looking around the room.

Not much really. I was just makin’ the bed and putting some clothes in the drawer. Trista’s shin throbbed in pain, and it took everything she had not to sit down and massage it.

That’s weird, he said, taking a few steps inside. His left eyebrow rose as he opened and shut one of the dresser drawers. I didn’t hear the drawer shut.

Well, that’s because...I did that first. And then I made the bed. You probably didn’t hear that either.

He looked her in the eye. Fear stirred in her gut, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, reminding her of the many times in the past she had sassed off to him. No, I guess I wouldn’t hear that. Unless, of course, I had super powers and could hear just about anything, like Daredevil. His suspicious look had been replaced by a playful smile. The one that had drawn her to him about two years ago when they first met. Randall Tuck hadn’t always been this controlling or this mean. There was a time when she’d do anything for him. A time that had long since passed.

Might you also have a super sense of smell? Because if you did, you might’ve noticed the chili simmering on the stove.

Oh, I noticed all right. And it smells almost as good as you look. He took a step forward and scooped her into his arms. She felt her body tense and fought to relax it. He didn’t like it when she pulled away. Didn’t like it at all. He leaned in close and took in a whiff of the perfume she had splashed on her neck. A request of his. He had many requests that he strongly recommended she consider. And as time went by, she had learned to follow through with them. To adapt. You smell so good, he whispered. How ’bout I skip the chili and just have you instead? He took in another whiff. I bet you’d like that a lot.

Trista placed a hand to her stomach, trying to ease the sickness growing deep inside. If I don’t get the chili, it’ll burn. And we both know how much you hate burnt food.

Tuck’s icy brown eyes stared into hers. She held her breath, hoping he’d leave her to the cooking. He stepped to the side. I suppose you’re right, he said. As she slid past him, he slapped her on the butt. Trista bit down on her lip as the sting