Chapter 5 - Life unexpected

5.

Sutton sat quietly on the plane, head resting against the glass, staring out of the window at the puffs of white passing by. A tear streamed down her cheek as she held the folded piece of paper firmly over her heart. How could he have left without saying good-bye? Why didn’t she take him to her bedroom with her? She’d finally found him again, and again they shared such an intimate and wondrous experience. She was so ready to give herself to him that day – all of her – not just her body, but her heart. He’d captured it so unexpectedly and she wanted him to have it. For the first time since Ethen, her heart ached.

She wanted to go back to New Orleans so badly and continue searching for him. But right now she was stuck on this damn plane and she just wanted to be alone, but Mark just couldn’t seem to leave her alone. He walked over to her, again, and took a seat next to her.

“You’re not reading that letter again are you?” He huffed like a child.

“Why don’t you just go away and leave me the hell alone like I’ve asked you to.”

He turned his whole body in the seat so he could face Sutton directly. “I did you a favor getting rid of that vagrant. You should be thanking me for saving your career, saving you from being drug down in a monstrous lawsuit.”

She cut eyes at him that would’ve scared anyone else, but Mark had a dark side to him that he kept hidden well, and nothing seemed to bother him. “Did I look like I needed saving when you busted in on us? If you think this is saving me, then you don’t know me at all. Now leave me the fuck alone!” The words came out in a low and rumbling growl and she turned to look out of the window, giving her back to Mark.

Mark rolled his eyes, huffed and left her with her tears.

She opened the note and read it again as soon as he was no longer in site.

They’re right, I’ll only bring you down. I can’t ruin what you’ve worked so hard for. I don’t fit in your life anymore. I’ll never forget you. You’ll always be my unobtainable dream, Suttybug. I love you. Grey

The tears welled and poured from her eyes like she’d opened a dam. How could they tell him that? She’d gone to her room to get dressed, happier than she’d been in years and finally feeling like her life was once again complete. When she came back, Greysen was gone. She tried to go after him; she ran from her condo and out of the front door. She ran down the sidewalk, searching frantically, but it was no use – he was nowhere to be found.

After losing him, she realized that she just wanted to be with Greysen. She didn’t care about being “rich and famous” – the road Mark already had her on. She didn’t care about money or fame or the condo or the car; she cared about Greysen, about love, about being alive again and that was because of him. She’d finally fought through the darkness of the depression that she was sure would’ve taken her life to start following her dream again as a way to keep Ethen alive – a way to remain close to him. She was by no means happy again, by no means fulfilled. She’d moved to the city that she’d feared as a way to overcome that fear and honor her love. Never did she expect, especially on her first night in New Orleans, that she’d fall in love again. But it wasn’t until she’d lost Greysen that she realized that that was what she was looking for – not a record contract, not the glitz of becoming a superstar; she wanted love again. Did she realize it too late though? Had she lost him forever? She recalled saying once, watching him singing to her at the bar that night, that someone would have to be committed to walk away from him, and here she’d done it twice already.

Without knowing her, without knowing what she’d been through, he knew exactly what she needed and gave it to her, in so many ways. What were the odds that in her first day away from her little hometown she would find him, and before even seeing his face, she knew she had to know him? Every minute she’d spent with him was life changing. She couldn’t help but wonder how much more of a profound impact he could make on her life. If only given the chance to be with him again, she’d never let him go.

After the first time she’d read the note he’d left for her, her heart stopped. He called her Suttybug. How’d he know? She thought of his voice and how it instantly sends chills down her spine, of how when he sings it penetrates her skin like her insides are being caressed in a silk blanket, the light birthmark on his inner arm shaped like a ragged star. There was no way he could be…Ethen had been dead for seven years. But there was something so familiar about him. The way he kissed her, touched her, caressed her skin with his strong hands, the way he felt in her mouth; his moans also brought back chilling memories. She knew she was grasping at straws but even the shape of his face, the set of his eyes, his kissable mouth....she wanted it so desperately, she knew she was fooling herself.

When she got back to her condo after searching for Greysen that day, she’d tried to tell Mark McMillan where he could shove his contract. He threatened her with a lawsuit of such gigantic proportions for breach of contract, that not only would her estate that she was to receive when she turns thirty be taken, but he promised her that he would make sure that it affected her future children also. He had her trapped, and worst of all, she still had no idea how to find the man that she’d instantly fallen in love with.

She called her mom that night, trying to find out what they had done with Ethen’s ashes – she’d never seen his body or his ashes; there was no funeral, nothing to honor the man she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with – but her parents had gone on vacation. Did they bother to even call her and tell her or try to come to New Orleans to visit her? No, they went to the Bahamas. How very convenient.

After the first week had passed following Greysen’s disappearance, she became more desperate for answers. Every day she searched frantically for this perfect man. She spent an entire day sitting on a bench next to Jackson Square searching every face that passed her by. At night, she cried herself to sleep, remembering his touch and the phenomenal way he kissed her, everywhere. She thought of his amazingly beautiful body standing naked before her; the feel of him in her hands, in her mouth, and it made her body tremble. His sensual voice played vividly through her mind – the so familiar voice that she’d been in love with since she was a child. Was she not destined for love? Why did it keep getting ripped away from her so unexpectedly?

After not hearing from her parents for another week, she decided to take a trip back to Ponchatoula, determined to uncover the truth.

Her first trip to the Police station turned out to be just the beginning of startling discoveries. Although they knew nothing of where Ethen’s remains were, she was informed that they’d found the three men that murdered Ethen and shot and raped her the catastrophic night that began her collision course of self destruction and internal torture.

The three had been apprehended in the murder of a local woman, and when the police raided the house they were staying in, they found driver’s licenses of twelve other people who were murdered between New Orleans to Hammond. In those licenses, they found Ethen’s.

Detective Kincaid grew up with Sutton and Ethen so when she showed up looking for answers about Ethen’s death, he gave her the license. While there, she’d realized that she could finally find out the truth about Ethen junior’s real father. She always believed in her heart that he was Ethen’s baby, but now she wanted the proof. She had to know for certain. Her life was full of so much doubt right now and unanswered questions; she needed one certainty, one good concrete answer.

She signed off on exhumation of his tiny body and gave a DNA sample to forensics. Detective Kincaid said he’d get the DNA from the three who’d already been sentenced to life in prison and put a rush on it, but it would still take weeks to find out.

She’d passed the time between searching for Greysen and searching for answers playing the local pubs of New Orleans and even performing at the Crewe of Omega Mardi Gras Ball. The day she was scheduled to leave for the first leg of her tour she called to check in with the detective, Paul, and make sure he had all her contact information before jumping on the flight out to Vegas, her opening city.

She took a deep breath as the tears continued to pour from her eyes, her heart aching for the man who filled the emptiness that once consumed her life, as she watched the deserts of Nevada pass during their descent into Las Vegas.

Weeks passed as she lived her life like one nonstop, endless day with only a few hours of sleep between shows, between cities. She thoroughly enjoyed being on stage and it showed – she captivated the crowds of people who came out to see her.

Her parents finally returned home about two weeks into her tour – she had to call them to find out. She tried to ask them both about Ethen, but every time she brought him up something conveniently came up on her parents’ end: they just “had to go”, the line was bad, or they’d just flat out change the subject. She could never get them to give her a straight forward answer. She knew they’d never liked Ethen – they’d never tried to hide that fact from her. They thought she was too good for him. Her family was from a long line of affluent land and business owners in their small town and Ethen was an orphan growing up in the foster care system. But they knew what he meant to her, the least they could do was answer her questions. It didn’t really surprise her so much as just piss her off.

Though she enjoyed her new found fame, every day she was dying a bit more inside. By the time she was in Chicago – her sixteenth city – her heart was so torn she had to start putting on the fake smile to go on stage. With each city that passed, she realized that though she loved the performance, she loved it more sitting in those little bars on Bourbon Street than being in huge stadiums with thousands of screaming fans. Mark had turned her into his “pop sensation”; lights, sound effects, and back up dancers. She didn’t even get to play her guitar anymore, and she missed it. This just wasn’t the life she had in mind.

How was it possible that something she’d dreamt of for almost thirteen years had come true and she was becoming more heartbroken each day? It may not have been the exact way she saw it, but she was a famous singer now, that part was her dream. But she just couldn’t get Greysen out of her mind. How did this one man impact her life so significantly in just the two short, but exquisite, moments they’d shared?

What didn’t help her were Mark’s relentless pursuits to get in her pants. He’d shown his jealousy of Greysen the time he caught them together, and anytime Sutton mentioned his name she could see the green tinge in Mark’s face. They did have dinner together some nights but she’d always be sure that someone else attended dinner with them. She tried her best to never be alone with him but every night, at some point, he would show up at her door. He always had something to conveniently discuss or show her after everyone else was in bed. He made it very obvious of what he wanted from her and it wasn’t her heart. Even if it was, it belonged to someone else.

One night after dinner he showed up at her room with a bottle of wine asking if they could talk about the extension of her contract and where he could take her if she was “willing”. Just the tone in his voice let her know that his idea of “willing” was completely different than her idea, or her preference anyway. She declined, and he finally turned away after a long and drawn out whining session on his part. After that she stopped answering her door for those late night chats. Though she was awake most of those nights fantasizing about Greysen, she just couldn’t deal with Mark’s come on’s anymore.

One Sunday morning, after being on the road for almost eight weeks, she got the phone call she’d been awaiting. She rolled from the bed, placing the cell to her ear with her eyes still closed.

“Sutton?” Her eyes sprung open hearing that voice on the other end and her voice rung out high and anxious to finally know the truth about her son.

“Yeah, Paul? Whatcha found out?”

“I think maybe you should come home, come talk to me in person.”

“Paul, please. I can’t wait another second, please just tell me.”

The phone sat silent for a moment then she heard Paul take a deep breath.

“Sutton…the baby was not Ethen’s.”

Her heart stuttered and her stomach turned. Her eyes began to well with tears, burning in their tired puffiness. She closed them tightly as the tears squeezed out and she tried to catch her breath so the sobs wouldn’t come out too loudly on the phone.

“But Sutton…”

She sniffled a couple of times and then asked, “What Paul?”

“The baby is not yours either.” His voice was low, somber, but confounded.

She sat up in the bed at her latest hotel room, mystified by his words. “What do you mean, Paul? I gave birth to that baby…”

“That’s not what I mean, Sutton. I know you had a son. I came to the hospital. I saw him. But the baby in that grave is not your son.”

She clicked on the lamp next to the bed and pressed her back against the cherry wood headboard. Her breathing became frantic. “What are you talking about, Paul…what…how…I don’t understand.” The tears were pouring from her eyes. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as he spoke.

“I took it upon myself to go to the hospital and track down the doctor and nurse who’d signed off on the death certificate…”

“And…come on, Paul, spit it out.”

“There’d never been any doctor or nurse registered to the hospital by those names.”

Her tears quickly stopped. She sat quietly taking in what he just said. Did he mean? Could he mean?

“Paul…Are you saying that my son is…alive?”

“Yeah, Sutton, I believe he is.”

She felt a hard lump in her throat and tried to swallow but it wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Sutton? You there?”

“Ye…yeah, yeah, I’m here. I…Paul…what do I do? I have to find him. I can’t just sit back…I can’t just…I’ve got to…” She jumped from the bed and started pacing around the room. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to scream, vomit or just pass out.

“Calm down, hon. I’ve already started the investigation. We’re going to find him. I promise you, Sutton. We’re going to find him.”

“I’m coming home.”

“No, wait. I know you want to find him but just in case he’s still here, I don’t want to scare off the people who have him. You’ve become quite a celebrity and if you come here with all the paparazzi and start talking about your newborn son being kidnapped…well, I just don’t want to give them a reason to run with him.”

She didn’t like the idea of having to sit back and wait but she trusted that Paul knew what he was talking about. “Ok,” she sighed, “I trust you. What can I do?”

“Just hang tight. Stay on your tour…as soon as I know something I’ll call.”