Losing Faith (7 page)

The snow continued its assault against the windshield of her Cavalier, giving her wipers a workout. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She rubbed her hand on the dashboard. “Just get us to the next town, baby. You can do it.”

“Mom, it’s a car. I doubt that it can hear you.”

Trista looked over at her skeptical daughter. Straight brown hair cascaded from her red and blue stocking cap, a gift she had received for Christmas this year. Her large blue eyes were glued to her iPhone’s screen.

“You need to have faith, Savannah. We’ll get there. In twelve years, she hasn’t let me down yet.”

“This car is almost as old as me.” Savannah’s eyes remained glued to the screen. “Why didn’t you ever get a new car?”

Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, that’s right, she thought, probably because I haven’t had the money. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had had the money two years ago. She had just met a young, attractive, smooth-talking southern man named Randall Tuck. Now there was a man who loved country music. Probably another reason why she hadn’t developed an interest in it. He had had big dreams for his tow truck business. T & T Towing. But unfortunately he required the use of Trista’s savings to keep it running. After a year and a half of supporting him, Trista had decided that she could no longer afford his dream.

Of course, this wasn’t the type of stuff she could share with her daughter. Kids thought life was so simple. Need a car? Buy one. Your phone breaks? Just go to the store and get another. But kids shouldn’t have to understand such difficulties. It was the best part about growing up in this complicated and often unfair world. Innocence was truly the greatest gift a child would ever lose. “Maybe when we get to Indiana and see Grandma. She’ll know of a car dealership where we can get something nicer.”

“Cool. I say we get a Camaro. Those are awesome.”

A Camaro? She shot her daughter an incredulous look. A look that ricocheted off of Savannah’s impervious cellular shield. “Are you texting someone?”

Her fingers swiped across the touch screen. “Angry Birds.”

The Cavalier’s engine let out a couple more threatening coughs. Trista didn’t know exactly what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. “Honey, you really should conserve the battery, just in case.” In case we need to call 9-1-1, she finished silently.

“In case of what?”

“In case we have to call someone out here to get us.”

Savannah turned from her phone for the first time and looked out the passenger window. “Um, yeah, I don’t think anyone is stupid enough to come out here in this weather.”

“Stupid enough?”

“Just sayin’.” Her finger swiped across the screen again. “Besides, I don’t have a signal out here anyway.”

Great. Stranded in the middle of a blizzard. Not exactly the getaway she had planned. Trista checked her rearview mirror for the zillionth time since they had pulled out of the airport parking lot, looking for a pair of headlights belonging to a giant white gas- and money-guzzling truck with the letters T & T on the side. But the only thing staring back at her was the storm, darkness, and another mile of freedom.

“Dang it!” Savannah tossed her phone on the dashboard. “Stupid birds.”

“Savannah! You know better than that.” That phone had cost Trista a week’s worth of wages. Being a nurse paid well, but it wasn’t enough to buy her daughter another smart phone. Especially now that she had quit her job.

Savannah propped an elbow on the door, resting her head on her hand. Trista knew how hard this was on Savannah. It wasn’t like she had given her much notice or even a chance to say goodbye to her friends. She reached over and laid a hand on Savannah’s.

Savannah jerked her hand back and folded her arms.

“Did I do something wrong?” A knee-jerk parental question. Trista already knew the cold, hard answer to her question.

Savannah scowled. “Why did we have to leave?”

Questions like these tested the core of Trista’s parenting. There wasn’t an answer she could give that wouldn’t expose the poor choices she had made on behalf of her and her daughter. “It’s complicated—”

“No it’s not,” Savannah interrupted. “It’s because of Tuck, your psycho fiancé. Isn’t it?”

Trista didn’t disagree, but she didn’t want to admit it either. When a parent made a mistake this monumental, it took everything she had just to look at herself in the mirror each day, let alone her own daughter. “Honey, I’m sorry. But we could really use a change.”

“Not me. I have a life. I have friends and a boyfriend who loves me.”

Trista said nothing. What do you say to your fifteen-year-old daughter after you’ve completely ruined her life? She looked over at Savannah and saw her father’s blue eyes again. A constant reminder of what she had lost. What they both had lost. She’d never forget the day she had opened her front door to the two uniformed officers.
Mrs. Tilman. We regret to inform you that your husband, Anthony Tilman, died during a training exercise this afternoon.
She hadn’t heard another word. Numb, she had closed the door and collapsed to the floor, her heart shattered.

For months afterward, she had watched her young daughter sleep, wondering how on earth she was going to take care of her. Her mother had offered to take her in, but pride was pride, and the day she had left was the day she swore she’d never return.
Seventeen is too young to raise a baby, Trista.
Don’t make the same mistakes I did.
That was the first time she had heard her mother refer to her as a
mistake.
The day she and Anthony walked out of that house, she vowed never to come back to Indiana. A vow she had kept until the day Tuck threw his last punch.

Trista placed her hand on Savannah’s shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay, baby. I promise.”

And as if calling her bluff, fate chimed in as the Cavalier let out one choke and then another. Trista pumped the gas, trying to keep it running. After a series of what could only be described as coughing fits, the engine shut down completely. Trista watched as the speedometer needle dropped to fifty, then thirty, then twenty. The lower it went, the lower her heart sank into her chest. Time to pull off the road. Time to start worrying.

“Sure, Mom. Things are definitely going to be okay now.” Savannah’s sarcasm rang loud and clear.

Trista coasted to the side of the road and put on her flashers. Both hands gripped the wheel until her knuckles turned white. She bit her lip, trying not to cry. Keep it together. Now’s not the time to lose it. Sure, the Cavalier has broken down, and they were stranded in the biggest storm the Midwest had seen in years. But they were together, and Tuck had no idea where they were going. Trista had never spoken of her mother to him. The last time she had visited Trista and Savannah had been right before Tuck came into their lives, so neither of them knew about the other. And she had never told him that she was from Indiana. At least she didn’t think she had. So he shouldn’t have any reason to head north. But something he had said played in her head like a scratched record skipping on the worst part of a song.
I know how to find people, sweetheart. It’s what I do.

A flicker of light reflected off the rearview mirror, drawing Trista’s attention. The light grew brighter and brighter until a vehicle came to a stop directly behind them. The combination of the storm and the headlights shining into her mirror made it impossible to see the driver.

Her breathing nearly stopped when she saw the silhouette of a man walking up to her car, cutting in and out of the headlights’ beams. She grabbed her daughter’s hand and the door handle, readying herself for a fight she had hoped to avoid by running away.

The closer he came, the faster her heart raced. Her muscles tensed. This was it. He had found her. Just like he had said he would. But this time he’d kill them. Just like he had said he would. Their screams would be muffled by the storm. No witnesses. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Mom, who’s that?” Trista took a quick look at her daughter, who was busy watching the man approach as well. Her beautiful blue eyes were wide with fear. She turned to Trista and said, “I’m scared.” Trista ached for Savannah. More than just about anything, she wanted her daughter to always feel secure. She had to do something. Hitting her was one thing, but her baby girl, that was something she just couldn’t allow. Not anymore.

She squeezed Savannah’s hand. “Don’t be scared, baby. Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.” Savannah’s returning squeeze was weak, making Trista all the more determined to handle what was coming.

With the shadowy figure now beside her car, her grip grew tighter on the handle. She closed her eyes, and started to count to herself. One, two, three…

Chapter 9

Seth

Seth approached the broken-down vehicle, grumbling to himself. He hadn’t wanted to stop, but Frank had insisted. What was with this guy? Was he seriously going to help every person they found on the side of the road? Sure, there’s a bad storm. Okay, a blizzard, but it’s not like they were driving a bus. They would never make it to Fort Wayne at this rate.

The snowflakes seemed larger than when they had stopped at the gas station. Snow went up to his ankle with every step. And the wind felt colder, too, causing the flakes to feel like thousands of tiny razors making micro-incisions on his cheeks.

When he reached the driver’s-side door, he lifted a hand to tap on the steam-covered window. The door flew open, slamming straight into Seth’s groin. He clutched his stomach and fell to his knees. The air had escaped his lungs. Excruciating pain radiated from his stomach. The veins in his neck felt like they would explode as he fought for air.

A woman sprung from the car, startling him. “Savannah! Run!” she yelled. Seth looked up right as she slammed her boot into his face, knocking him back onto the snow-covered road.

A puff of white powder shot up and covered his face. He tried to yell, but nothing came out. He gasped for air, holding his throbbing cheek with one hand and his groin with the other.

He heard female voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The falling snow fell out of focus, and then everything went dark.

*****

When Seth regained consciousness, he saw a pair of hazel eyes staring down at him. “Lexi?” he whispered.

“Who’s Lexi?”

He closed and opened his eyes. Lexi went in and out of focus. He closed his eyes one more time and then opened them again. A familiar-looking woman stared down at him. He looked around and noticed that he was in the back seat of Frank’s rental car. His head rested in the woman’s lap. His face and groin throbbed. “What happened?” The woman looked toward the front seat.

Frank was in the driver’s seat, and when he turned toward Seth, the frown he wore said it all. “You feeling all right, buddy?”

Seth sat up, and the throbbing increased. “I think so. What happened?”

“Well, you were attacked. But don’t worry. This woman was kind enough to help you. She’s a nurse.”

Seth looked at the woman. “Thank you. Wait, I remember you.”

“You do?”

“From the airport. Your daughter wanted a picture.”

She smiled. “Yes, that’s us.”

Seth turned to the front passenger seat and saw the doe-eyed teenager staring at him. He nodded. “Hi.” She didn’t respond. What had happened to the energetic, love-sick girl he had met at the airport? Nothing was making sense.

“Who attacked me?”

Frank raised a hand, as if waving away the thought. “That’s not important right now. What’s important is that you’re okay.”

Seth grabbed the side of his face and felt a lump the size of a plum. “I remember that we stopped to help someone. A car was broken down on the side of the road.” He turned to the front of the car and saw the car still in its headlights’ beams. “That’s the car! I remember. I walked up to it and tapped on the window. Then…” He turned to the woman next to him and backed away from her until he felt the door. “It was you! You attacked me.”

She placed a hand over her mouth. “About that. I’m really, really sorry I did that to you.”

“Sorry! You could have killed me! Who does that to people who are trying to help them?”

“I thought you were someone else. I really am sorry.”

“Someone else? Who? Freddy Krueger?”

“Someone like that,” she replied.

“Who’s Freddy Krueger?” her daughter asked.

“All right. All right. Let’s calm down,” Frank said. “The important thing is that everyone is fine.”

“Fine?” Seth pointed to his damaged areas. “You call this fine? I call this assault.”

“Sweetie, Freddy Krueger is a bad man in the movies. He’s not real.”

“Oh, so he’s like the boogeyman?”

The woman nodded.

“Excuse me,” Seth said. “I hate to interrupt your fictional bad guy lesson here, but can we get back to the part where you assaulted me?”

“Technically, it was self-defense,” Frank chimed in.

“How can you call it self-defense when there was nothing to DEFEND?”

Silence filled the car. Seth took a few deep breaths.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman said, looking down at his groin, “for uh, for hurting you. It was dark. We were stranded and…and I—”

“Thought you were Tuck,” her daughter interrupted.

“Who’s Tuck?” Frank asked.

“He’s no one,” the woman answered. She shot her daughter a look. “My imagination just got away from me. My car is dead. It’s dark out. And the storm had me a little spooked.”

Seth knew there was more to her story than she was telling them, but whatever it was, he didn’t have time for it. “Whatever. Let’s just get going. What’s the plan?” he asked, rubbing his face. “Do you have someone you can call?”

“No. We were on our way to Indiana to visit my mother.”

“We’re heading there, too,” Frank told them.

Seth couldn’t believe what was happening. Feeling like he was trapped on train tracks with no way off, he listened helplessly as Frank offered to take them to Indiana. He looked for his guitar case, needing to see the photograph of Faith. “Where’s my guitar?”

“I had to put it in the trunk to make room.”