The Killing of Faith: A Suspense Thriller You Won't Soon Forget. (The Killing of Faith Series Book 1)

by William Holms

  I’m so sick of hearing this same sad story. “Here we go again. I had nothing and you gave me everything. It’s all a bunch of shit.”

  “Faith, I didn’t say—”

  “Ryan, you knew I was still in love with my boyfriend when we met. You didn’t care. I needed time to heal. I needed time to be whole. I should have gone home. I should have gotten counseling before I jumped into another relationship.”

  All of our fights over the past five years are a replay of the same argument over and over again. He yells that I take and take and I’m ungrateful for all he’s given me. I scream that he appreciates nothing I do for him, and I won’t spend the rest of my life paying a debt I don’t owe. It all goes round and round until there’s nothing left but the ashes of a once happy marriage. But this is new ground, and it catches him by complete surprise.

  “We’ve been married fourteen years and have three kids. Why are you saying this now?”

  “Ryan!” I yell to stop all this nonsense. “I hired a lawyer, and he filed the papers.”

  The second the words fly out of my mouth, I realize they came out much harder than I wanted, but there’s just no other way. I can see the surprise on his face. He turns around like he’s going to storm out of the room. Instead, he goes over to the window and stares outside without saying a word. I have no idea what’s going through his mind. Surely, he saw this coming. I’ve been avoiding him, we sleep in separate beds, and we haven’t had sex in months. Everything comes to a sudden stop, and the silence is louder than thunder.

  “Fine,” he finally says so quiet I can barely hear him. With a blank face, and a defeated tone he says, “You want a divorce; you’ll get your divorce.”

  You want a divorce; you’ll get your divorce? What is that supposed to mean? We’ve had countless conversations over the years. He’s talked to me in love, happiness, sadness, anger, fear, and even contempt but he’s never talked to me like this before. It’s complete indifference. It’s the same way I’ve heard him talk to other attorneys when he knows he has all the facts on his side and there’s no reason to negotiate. I walk over, and hold his face in my hands, hoping I can diffuse this situation.

  “Ryan,” I say as calmly as I can, “we don’t have to do it like this. We don’t have to be enemies. I want us to stay friends.”

  There’s never been a time when my pretty blue eyes, my sweet face, my soft touch, and my helpless voice hasn’t melted his heart. I know the recipe well, and I’ve served it up many times but now something’s changed. I’ve always thought the power I have over him comes from the love he feels for me. It’s a power I intended to use long after our divorce is final. Now for the first time, I realize how wrong I’ve been all these years. The power I have doesn’t come from his love for me but from the love he needs from me. He’s always feared losing my love, and that’s what’s kept me on top.

  When I first told him I didn’t love him, he didn’t want to believe it. He thought I was just throwing it out there to be mean. I’ve certainly done it in the past. He even tried to convince me that it isn’t true. Now that I’ve ended the marriage, the Ryan I’ve known since we met is gone. His eyes that were just filled with tears are now replaced with sheer determination. Now I see the man I fear the most. He grabs both of my wrists and removes my hands from his face. He holds my arms with enough force that it hurts.

  “Don’t touch me,” I shout, trying to pull away, but he holds me in his grasp.

  “Why do you think I stayed all these years?” he asks, grabbing my wrists even harder. “For you? Really? No, not for you but for our kids. I love our kids more than anything. I love them more than I love you. I love them more than I love me.”

  I’m pulling away with all my strength so when he releases me from his grasp I fall back onto the couch. “I’m not going to listen to this,” I scream as I stand back up.

  “Faith, you don’t know love and you never have. You’re the only person you’ve ever really loved,” he yells back. “You’re unstable, and God only knows where you’ve been going or what you’ve been doing lately.”

  This just sets me off more. “I’m sick of you accusing me all the time,” I fume. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Our marriage is over.”

  I turn around and head out the door but I stop and turn back to him when he yells so sharply that it startles me.

  In the same firm voice, he warns, “Faith, do you really think I’m going to let you take my kids? You know me. Whatever I have to do, however long it takes, however much it costs, I’ll never let that happen. I don’t care if it kills me … I don’t care if it kills you. You will never take my kids. Do you hear me? You will never take my kids.”

  The last six words are delivered with such conviction that it terrifies me even though I don’t dare show it. I don’t take his threat lightly because I know he means every word. He’s good at what he does, and the idea of being his enemy and fighting him in court where he thrives is frightening.

  I was hoping we’d have a nice civil talk, and resolve things amicably but that didn’t happen. Like all our arguments, he had to get nasty and threaten me. He physically and verbally assaulted me. I leave the room without looking back. Just loud enough for him to hear, I say the only thing I can think of: “We’ll see.”

  – CHAPTER 20 –

  Ryan is served with divorce papers at his office. I can only imagine his anger when the sheriff arrives in front of all his clients and staff. He hires a lawyer and the custody case begins. We agree to share the kids on a weekly basis until the case is over. He has to pay all my living expenses until I find a job. My lawyer tells me that I don’t have to get a job so I sign up for college classes, and stay home with our kids.

  It’s not even two weeks before we have our first argument as separated parents. I’m thirty minutes late dropping off the kids at his house, and he doesn’t like it. Who’d think something so minor would cause an argument? Who cares if I’m late? Who cares if I forget their homework or book bag?

  Sharon insists that I stop talking to him altogether. From that day forward, we drop off and pick up the kids from school so we avoid all face-to-face contact. I tell Ryan I’ll only talk to him through the lawyers. The fight is on and the divorce drags on for almost a year.

  There’s no doubt in my mind Ryan will pull out all the stops. I know how determined he can be, and I know he’s capable of anything. He’ll look under every stone for every shred of evidence. For the first time, I think about my phone records, credit card charges, text messages, emails … everything. What was I thinking? How stupid could I be? How will I explain the credit card charges for new lingerie, hotels, dinners, movie tickets, and flowers? What about my lunch with Paul at an expensive restaurant on Valentine’s Day?

  I’ve been calling and texting Paul for the past three months. If Ryan finds out, it will change everything and cost me custody of my kids! What will other people think if it becomes public? Instead of the truth (I’m unhappy because of the way I’ve been treated for so long), everything will be turned around on me. People will think we divorced because I was having an affair. That’s just not true. I’ll be the bad guy and Ryan will be the poor husband who was cheated on. No one will understand that I didn’t really cheat. The marriage has been over for a long time.

  Going forward, I’m as careful as I can be. I buy another cell phone in Sharon’s name and I never call Paul from my own phone. We never email or communicate over my computer. Paul and I agree to stop seeing each other until the divorce is final. Well, at least we try. I won’t know until our trial if Ryan knows anything about Paul.

  – CHAPTER 21 –

  I know how the law works but it’s a lot different now that it’s my case. My weeks are filled with meetings with my lawyer, signing documents, locating records, answering questions, giving depositions, and going to court hearings. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another. I’m no better at school than I was twenty years ago. The stress of it all makes it impossible for me to go to class
or study so I quit school for now.

  What I really want is to put an end to this whole case but I don’t know how. It’s like a train that’s heading off a cliff with no brakes. I see Ryan at one of our hearings, and I think he’s softening. I’ve been working out for the first time in fifteen years and my body looks the best it ever has. My hair is pulled back, my blue eyes are accentuated, and my lips are red and inviting. I’m dressed in my dark blue dress suit and high heels. My blouse is low enough for him to catch a glimpse of my black bra and my skirt is short enough to show off my slender legs. I’ve never looked sexier in my life. We just need to talk. No matter how mad he is, he’ll never be able to resist my womanly charm and he’ll stop his silly custody fight. Maybe we’ll go for a drink after the hearing. I’ve already decided that I’ll even sleep with him if that’s what it takes for him to give me our kids.

  I catch the attention of every man as I walk through the courthouse but it’s not their attention I’m after. When I walk into the courtroom, Ryan’s sitting in the middle of a long bench so I take the seat next to him. I sit down, and allow my skirt rise just enough for him to see my beautiful legs. I bend over to get a pen from my purse. My blouse falls open right in front of him. When he looks my way, I smile the same smile I offered the day we first kissed so long ago. It’s the smile that never fails me … until now. By the look on his face, I know all my efforts have been for nothing. He didn’t even look down my shirt. I really thought this would work but we leave the hearing without so much as a hi, bye, or go to hell. I watch him walk away and think to myself, What the hell have I done?

  As the trial gets closer, it’s clear Sharon and I completely miscalculated. True to his word, Ryan’s determined to see this thing through to the end. Lying in bed I remember his words before I left:

  “Faith, do you really think I’m going to let you take my kids? You know me. Whatever I have to do, however long it takes, however much it costs, I’ll never let that happen. I don’t care if it kills me … I don’t care if it kills you. You will never take my kids. Do you hear me? You will never take my kids.”

  I now know that he meant every word.

  After eleven months and three resets, we’re finally in court for the final custody trial. I just want the case over. I’m ready to start the rest of my life, and I’m tired of hiding my relationship with Paul.

  The courthouse, the judge, the bailiff, and the court reporter are all so intimidating. Ryan arrives dressed in a dark blue suit, a bright white shirt, a new tie, and expensive shoes. Not a hair on his head is out of place. I’ve seen his courtroom appearance so many times and it’s never once let him down. He rolls in a dolly stacked with four boxes full of who knows what. My lawyer comes a few minutes later armed with only his briefcase and one expandable folder that dwarfs in comparison. Instead of the look of hate he displayed at our last hearing, this time Ryan gives me a quick nod and a smile that radiates confidence and puts a chill down my spine. I can’t even smile back. What the hell does he have? Does he know about Paul? Why is he so confident? I fear I’ve already lost the case before it even started.

  We both agree to let the judge decide everything. Sharon is the first to testify for me. She tells the judge that I’m the primary person who takes care of the kids. She seldom saw Ryan and, in her opinion, he’s not a good father. She swears that she saw me after arguments with bruises, and she even took a photo three years ago. She hands the picture to the judge that shows two small purple bruises on my right arm. I glance his way, and he has a look of betrayal. It never occurred to him that I was planning for a divorce so long ago. When questioned by Ryan’s lawyer, Sharon admits that she only came over when Ryan was gone, and the bruises are barely noticeable. Ryan’s lawyer tries to prove she was a bad influence on me and encouraged me to go out to bars.

  “Quite the opposite,” she says indignantly. “Faith is my best friend. I encouraged her to stay in her marriage. I prayed for their marriage.” She steps off the witness stand and Ryan gives her the same cold stare.

  I get on the stand next. I have on a sweet little dress that I sometimes wear to church. My makeup is subtle and instead of my hair hanging sexy on my shoulders, I have tied it in a pretty bun. I raise my hand and swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth so help me God.

  I tell the judge how I once loved my husband. I gave him everything. I had so many plans and dreams for my life but I put them all aside to support my husband and his career. I was the wife every man dreams of. I cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, and took care of our kids. I explain how Ryan was once a good husband and father but how he’s changed over the years. He started working long hours while I was left home raising our children. He controlled where I went, the money I spent, and who I did or did not see. He shut me off from all my friends and family. He wouldn’t let me go back to school because he wanted me home where he could control me. I tried so hard but he appreciated nothing I did for him.

  I testify how our fights just got worse over time. He became verbally abusive and always talked down to me. There were arguments where he grabbed my arms, shook me, pushed me, or kept me from leaving. By this time, I’m in tears. The bailiff hands me a tissue. The judge asks if I need to take a break but I tell him that I want to go on. I describe our last argument when I told him I was leaving and how he grabbed my arms and pushed me with all his strength. With tears running down my face, I hand the judge two photos showing a purple mark on my left wrist. I explain how I dedicated my whole life to my husband and children. and Ryan destroyed any love I felt for him. The judge says it’s a good time for our lunch break. Walking out of the courthouse, my lawyer tells me what a great job I did and how the case is going great.

  When we return, it’s Ryan’s lawyer who questions me. He has so many text messages and emails that I thought were long gone. He uses my own words against me. There’s one text message where I admit that I’m the cause of our arguments. He has another where I apologize for losing my temper, and saying some pretty ugly things. He produces several text messages in which I tell Ryan that I’m out drinking with friends. He even produces the text messages from the night I met Paul. Ryan looks like the concerned little husband at home with the kids. He shows the judge several cards that I gave Ryan including one I gave him less than a year before we separated in which I wrote:

  “You are the best husband and father a woman could ever want. You are our world. I’m so lucky to have you. You are my love. You are my soul mate.

  Your loving wife — Faith”

  I go back and forth with his lawyer over everything. After reading my own words, I reluctantly admit the divorce is not all Ryan’s fault. I wasn’t always honest in the marriage and, yes, I can also have a temper but it’s only when I’m pushed too far. I agree that I visited my family in Georgia numerous times, called them on the phone regularly, and I often went out with friends. “Ryan couldn’t have been too controlling,” his lawyer sneers.

  I tell the judge that Ryan loves his kids and they love him. He never missed a school party, birthday party, doctor’s visit, or meet the teacher, He’s been there for every holiday, and every activity involving the children. I admit that I dropped out of high school, temporarily quit college, and I still don’t have a job after a year. Ryan, on the other hand, is a great provider.

  The lawyer then asks, “Mrs. Brunick, your husband has never cheated on you, has he?

  “Not as far as I know,” I answer.

  “And you?” he asks.

  This is the one question that scares me the most. I fear that Ryan knows all about Paul. My head scrambles for the right thing to say. Do I tell the truth or try to get away with a lie? If I lie, will it come back to bite me? I stall for more time by repeating his question, “What about me?”

  “Have you had an affair?” his lawyer presses.

  After balancing the pros and cons, I decide to deny everything. Before I get the words out of my mouth, Ryan leans over to his lawyer and holds his notebook up to
shield their faces and hide what they’re saying. The whole courtroom comes to a stop.

  “Counsel?” the judge finally says in a firm voice.

  His lawyer finally stands up and says, “Never mind, Judge. I withdraw the question.”

  I have no idea what just happened. I don’t know why he let me off the hook but I take a deep sigh of relief. By the end of my testimony, I admit that Ryan is a good father. At times he was a good husband. I insist, however, that I’ve always been the primary person who takes care of our kids.

  The next day Ryan takes the stand and he paints a very different picture, or should I say, many different pictures. He gives the judge so many photos of him and the kids. They have photos of Ryan at the birth of each child, holding, feeding, and bathing our babies, and photos at water parks, swimming with the kids in our pool, and playing with them everywhere. He’s at the kid’s birthday parties, Christmas, Easter, Halloween, school events, and at family vacations. He has photos of him coaching baseball and football. I know I was at many of these events but I’m not in a single photo. I didn’t even know I was supposed to bring photos. He puts an entire binder of photos in front of the judge. They make him look like super dad. I ask my lawyer at the break why we didn’t bring photos.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says, dismissing the question. “Judges aren’t too impressed by that stuff.”

  When we return, Ryan produces cards the kids gave him:

  “To the best dad ever on your birthday.”

  “Thank you for always being there for us.”

  “We love you, Daddy. Thanks for all you do for us.”

  “#1 Greatest Dad.”