Lass Ride: Crossroads - The Messages

6. Seth

When Seth took the phone from Dean, his first thought was of the weights attached to corpses to make them sink to the bottom of rivers. He had started out on a bad note with most of Becky's friends and didn't feel like he had made much progress since. Dean might have been the one who kept the secret, but Seth still felt the blame every time they looked at him. "I'll go upstairs when the game is done," he said when Dean looked at him expectantly. Since everyone else had taken their turn, there was no rush; if Becky's inbox was full, it was going to reject his message whether he sent it right away or in a few hours.

While Seth barely moved, only occasionally reaching for his beer or to adjust the volume on the television, the others blurred around him. When Sasha returned and headed to her room, both Bayley and Charlotte went upstairs soon after. A brief burst of yelling ensued, including a thump that made Roman cringe and mutter something about damage deposits, but after the initial chaos, the din ebbed to the rumble of distant conversation. Then Roman excused himself to go call his daughter, and Dean and Renee drifted away as soon as it was obvious who was going to win the game. Seth stayed downstairs a little longer, enjoying the rare stretch of solitude, before finally grabbing the phone and standing up. For a wild moment, he looked at the front door, considering a late-night ride. Hunter was a creature of habit, so Seth knew which hotel he had probably chosen. If Becky was there. . . . No. He forced himself up the stairs to his room; trying to ride to Becky's rescue at this point wouldn't have helped any of them.

A giggle, some sobbing, the bass of Roman's voice in father mode: the sounds of the others were muffled enough that Seth felt strangely alone. He left the light off as he shut his door and stretched out on the bed, setting Dean's phone beside him. The darkness should have been an ideal backdrop for figuring out what he wanted to say, but his thoughts were too scattered. What could he tell her? What right did he have to tell her anything? They'd had sex—really amazing sex, sure—and had some deep conversations, but what was that compared to the years of friendship she had with the others?

I miss you, he thought, staring at the ceiling. Maybe I have no right to, but I miss you. I miss having the chance to find out what we could be—

He thought the trilling sound was the smoke detector at first, and Seth sat up straight, ready to run. Then he looked down beside him and saw that the phone's screen had lit up. According to Dean, he had only used the phone for two people: Renee—who was with him right now and thus had no reason to be calling—and then Becky.

Glancing at the number, Seth quickly jabbed the answer button before the ringing could alert the others. Getting them to leave messages had been hard enough; if they knew they had the option of talking to Becky, Seth would never get a chance with the phone. "Dean . . . stop." Before Seth could correct her, she plunged on, as if she thought she didn't have enough air to say everything she needed to. "You guys have to stop. Please. I can't . . . I can't handle those messages right now. I'm sorry, but I can't. . . ."

"This isn't Dean." Seth half-expected her to hang up on him then, or at least yell at him, but they fumbled their way through a shaky conversation, ending with a promise from Becky to call the others in a couple days. They would still hate that he had lucked out and talked to her first, but they'd just have to deal with it. If Becky was under a three-year contract, it might be a long time before they would all be reunited, but if his leaving WWE and her returning to it proved anything, it was that impossible things happened far more often than people realized. Maybe, Seth thought, rereading over the brief text message she had sent her friends after their call had ended, something impossible will happen again. When he thought of it that way, Wednesday didn't seem very far away at all.