Finding Faith

I pulled away from my dad again and this time he freed me. I took advantage of the moment and of his age and I ripped open the front door. I knew I was taking a chance on getting Finn into some major trouble, but the thought of just disappearing on him didn’t sit well with me. I knew Finn and I knew he’d want to know what was happening with me, even if it meant false accusations on him.

I collided with the screened door and went right through it. Tiny pieces of wood splintered into the air. I heard my dad calling out behind me, followed by my mother’s high-pitched voice. Tripping on the broken door, I fell to the ground. My dad latched onto my ankle with strong fingers and I kicked with all my might until he let go. Jumping up, I ran.

I ran until my lungs ached, my flats beating into the asphalt and echoing into the wind that rushed past me. Tears that I didn’t know I was shedding spread across my cheeks and cooled, leaving my face feeling stiff and swollen. Hair flapped against my face and tangled into the chain around my neck. My cross dug into my palm until I felt like it was bleeding.

Night was settling in and the air was getting cooler. When I saw a pair of headlights coming my way, I freaked out, knowing it was my father coming after me, so I turned and fled into the patch of woods on the side of the road. I ducked down into the brush as my dad’s car zoomed by.

I’d done the unthinkable, and I already knew it wasn’t going to end well for me. I was seventeen. I could leave. I could tell my dad to shove it and run away with Finn, but I needed to make sure Finn was on board first. I needed to make sure that he wanted the same from me.

It took a while, but I finally made it to the closest gas station. My feet burned and lungs ached from breathing in the night air. The cashier looked at me like I was death walking in the store, which made sense since that’s exactly what I felt like.

“Do you have a phone I can use?” I asked.

I pulled the chord as far as it would go and punched in Finn’s home number. I prayed as it rang that he would answer and when he did, I nearly burst out into tears again.

“Finn, I need you. Please come and get me.” The minute the words left my mouth, I began to cry.

Sixteen

Finn

I couldn’t get to her fast enough. From the second I heard her crying on the phone and telling me she needed me, I was out the front door. I broke the speed limit the entire way to her side of town and left most of the rubber from my tires on the road. When I pulled up to the gas station and saw her sitting on the sidewalk in her pretty black dress and her hair all tangled up, I was angry. I wanted to put my fist through her dad’s face—pastor or no pastor.

She stood, my headlights blinding her, and adjusted her dress. She looked like a weeping willow in a spot of sunlight. I jumped out of my car and went to her. Pulling her into my arms, I held her close and breathed her in.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I am now.”

She looked up at me with a broken smile. I caught a wayward tear on her cheek with my thumb.

“Come on. You’re coming home with me.”

I held her hand on the ride back to my house. By the time we got there, she was asleep. Instead of waking her, I went around to her side of the car, opened the door, and carried her in my house. She wrapped her arms around my neck and breathed softly into my ear.

Mom had gone to bingo with some friends in hopes of hitting the big-ass jackpot and paying some bills, so the house was empty and quiet.

I carried Faith straight to my room and laid her on my bed. She turned and sighed into my pillow. Her hair spread across my pillow and a tiny smile formed on her mouth. She looked so peaceful. She fit perfectly there, and I silently wished that she would sleep there every night.

I left her there, turned everything off in the house, and then went to shower. The bathroom steamed up as I let the hot water wash away the bad memories of the week that passed. So many life-changing things happened to me in the last week—the loss of my brothers and hopefully, the permanence of Faith.

I turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around my junk, and then crept into my room to get some clothes. My room was dark—the only sound was the osculating fan that I couldn’t sleep without. I pulled open my top drawer and grabbed a pair of boxers.

Turning around, I was about to drop my towel and slip on the boxers, but I stopped when I realized Faith was standing across the room, staring at me. Her eyes burned me as they moved down from my face, past my neck and chest, and landed on the part of my towel that was slowly lifting.

I expected her to turn away or leave the room, but instead, she walked up to me and slid her arms around my neck. Her fingers moved across the droplets of water that lingered on my back before she worked them through my wet hair. I sucked in a breath when she pressed her sweet mouth to my chest.