Surviving Faith (The JackholeS, #2)

by Joy Eileen

  My heart nearly exploded with happiness when I saw the work they’d put in on the backyard. I hadn’t spent much time back there since I’d moved in and I was shocked to see how much work they did in order to enhance my favorite holiday.

  Not only had they washed all of the patio furniture, but they’d also strung twinkling lights around the EZ-ups, and decorated it in red, white, and blue.

  “This is amazing; you guys did a great job,” I said when I walked out.

  They puffed up, and Kill winked at me when nobody was looking. I went into the kitchen to get the girls, so they could see the transformation of the backyard. Kill stalked in as soon as they walked out.

  His arms pulled me to him until my breath came out in a puff as we collided together. "Come here," he growled.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but before words came out he kissed me intensely. My knees went weak as his tongue circled mine. He pushed me back until I was pressed against the kitchen counter. As soon as my back hit the hard surface, he let me go, leaving me in a daze. He smiled when I didn't move from the spot where he’d left me.

  “Hey,” he said, his damned half smile on his face.

  “Hey, yourself,” I replied back, not bothering to hide the breathlessness to my voice.

  He started toward me again, but before he could reach me, D walked into the kitchen.

  "Do you need any help with the food?" D asked. He looked at me, and heat rose up my cheeks. His hazel eyes took on a hint of disappointment, as if he knew what we’d been doing before he’d walked in. His long hair was pulled back into a man bun, giving me a unhindered view of his disapproval.

  I shot him a small smile that didn't ease the look in his eyes.

  "Here take this," Kill said as he pulled everything out of the fridge, handing what he couldn't carry to D.

  I let out a sigh still leaning on the kitchen counter. D's warning still bounced around in my head. He was worried about me, and what would happen if Kill hurt me. Dread built inside me. I needed to figure out how to handle the situation I was in, soon. If I decided to try being with Kill, I somehow needed to reassure D—and myself—that I could handle anything that came along. D didn't want to be put in a situation where he had to choose between me and Kill, and I didn't want to choose between Kill and a hardened heart.

  Kill and I had been getting along better than I’d expected. He was so attentive when we were locked inside my bedroom. We talked and laughed throughout the night until we were too exhausted to continue.

  When I was alone with my thoughts, my brain would question our time together. Making me wonder if we were cramming all our information in, because we knew our time was limited. The way Kill talked, it seemed as though he was positive we were in it for the long run. When he mentioned the future, he always included me in all of his plans.

  Anytime he brought up the future, my heart would spasm painfully. I wouldn't let my brain or heart accept anything he said. There wasn't a future with him, and all the plans he thought we were making were merely fantasies to me.

  I didn't tell Kill I was going to let him go when the JackholeS were discovered, refusing to taint the time we had together. He might be angry at first, but in the end, he would thank me. A brand new rockstar didn't need to be saddled with a girlfriend, especially one with enough baggage to fill her own tour bus.

  After stuffing ourselves with a feast of American classics, we left for the fireworks show. I bounced around in my seat during the whole drive. Kill laughed at my excitement.

  "You look like a little kid at Christmas, Slick."

  "I don't care. The Fourth is my favorite holiday. You can't say anything that'll get me down today, Killer." I stuck my tongue out at him, and his eyes lit up with lust. If Jessie and Van hadn’t been in the backseat, I have a feeling we would’ve made a detour.

  “Why do you like the Fourth of July so much?" he asked as he started circling the parking lot, looking for a spot.

  “Don’t make fun of me,” I said, biting my lip. Knowing my explanation was going to sound stupid.

  “Ahh, Faith, it's cute. Nobody's going to laugh at you,” Jessie said, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek. Of course, she knew the reason I loved this holiday as much as I did. I blushed red as I explained.

  “When I was little, my dad told me the fireworks were for me. So, on the Fourth, I would wake up thinking the whole country was celebrating my existence, and my dad never corrected me. I got into a few fights when I was little, when kids would tell me the fireworks weren’t for me at all. I even walked out of the classroom when my third-grade teacher laughed at my explanation.”

  Kill found a parking spot and glanced at me while I fidgeted with the seat belt I’d just taken off. Van leaned over between us, blocking my view of Kill. “Come on, little sis; let's go see your fireworks.” Van had taken it upon himself to start calling me little sister, and it had stuck.

  I smiled at Van and hopped out of the car, refusing to look at Kill as he moved around the car. When I finally got the nerve to turn my head and face Kill, he was staring at me with what looked like awe in his eyes. "You are incredible," he told me as he traced his finger down my cheek. The wonder in his voice caused my breath to hitch in my lungs, the touch of his finger sending electric impulses that made my body hum with emotion.

  It took a while for Van to remove his wide frame from the tiny back seat of Kill's Mustang. It surprised me he had been able to get in there in the first place, but he’d wanted to sit with Jessie.

  “Holy shit, that was like being born again, except without all of the amniotic fluid,” Van huffed out when he finally emerged from the back seat, rubbing his hand over his bald head while his tattoos rippled along his enormous arms.

  Jessie hopped right out behind Van, her slim frame easily escaping. Van smiled at her and kissed her deeply, taking advantage of her good mood. Earlier today, I’d warned Van that Jessie always called her parents before the fireworks, which would inevitably lead to them fighting. Judging by Van's actions, he wanted to get as much time with her as possible.

  While we were cleaning up the food, I tried to reason with Jessie. If she could get over her pride and tell Van about her past, I know Van would be able to reassure her. She may have been hurt by drummers before, but if things didn't change, it would be Jessie hurting Van.

  Brushing aside what I couldn't change, I jumped up and down as we walked into the crowd. There were street vendors lined up on the side of the walkway. I browsed the different merchants to see what they were peddling. It always amazed me how talented people were.

  I was at a make-your-own-candle booth when Kill pinched me on the ass, making me jump. I continued looking at the different containers and candles, refusing to turn and acknowledge him.

  He let out a frustrated huff, obviously not getting the reaction he’d wanted. I bit the inside of my lip to keep the corners of my mouth from lifting. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, making my body break out in goosebumps as his warm breath fanned across my earlobe.

  “Do you let just anyone grab your ass, Slick?”

  I turned, feigning disappointment. “Nope, I knew it was you, so I didn’t get excited. Now, if it had been someone else, I would’ve definitely turned around and mauled them.”

  His eyes flashed with desire, and he took my hand, leading me toward the entrance, passing everyone in a rush.

  Van and Jessie looked at us, perplexed. Amy and Jet were getting their faces painted and weren’t paying attention to anything. D kept glancing between us, shaking his head. Kill's hand held mine tightly. I shrugged, not knowing what had possessed him to act like this.

  “I forgot my money in the car, and I promised Slick I’d buy her a funnel cake,” he said, dragging me away.

  "I have cash," D said.

  Kill shook his head and called over his shoulder. "No, I need to get my wallet for later, anyway. I lost a bet with her the other day, and I need to pay up."

  My mouth stayed closed as I strug
gled to keep up with his wide steps. When we reached his car, his breath was just as ragged as mine. I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell our little sprint to the parking lot was about, he shushed me and tangled his fingers through my hair, tugging me toward him.

  My mouth was slightly open, from the words that were about to exit. He took full advantage, thrusting his tongue inside and coaxing mine out to play. A low throaty moan escaped me as I grabbed the back of his head, keeping his mouth sealed to mine.

  He turned us around, placing my back against the car, never breaking contact. His intensity had me on sensory overload. At that moment, all I wanted to do was be closer to him. I molded my body to his. Sensing my need, he removed his hands from my hair and grabbed my ass. Kill lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around him, squeezing him closer until his erection was pressed into the burning heat of my inner thighs. He groaned, and I swallowed his desire.

  I clawed at his back wanting to feel all of him, not caring that we were in the middle of a public parking lot for the whole of Portland to see. He pulled back and placed light kisses down my face nipping on the spot right below my ear. I ground myself shamelessly into him, and he thrust into me, pressing me harder into the car and setting off the alarm.

  “Fuck,” Kill mumbled as he tried to get his keys out of his front pocket with me still clinging to him.

  I shifted to give him more access. My movement caused me to brush against his erection, eliciting a hiss from both of us. I unlocked my legs and leaned against the car.

  Laughter bubbled up inside of me, and I couldn’t stop the giggles as they burst out. His half smile slowly crept onto his face, causing me to laugh even harder. I tried to get myself under control, which caused me to start laughing again, and I had to start the process all over.

  Kill smiled as he shook his head. “Are you done?”

  I bit my lip to keep from going into hysterics again and nodded, not trusting myself to talk just yet.

  “Can I ask you what that was about?” he asked, removing a lone tear trekking down my face.

  His touch sobered me instantly, bringing the fire I had just banked roaring back.

  “We have the worst luck; it’s almost like the world's against us,” I said, staring into his beautiful eyes.

  I was mesmerized by how amazing he was. He had an air of danger surrounding him, which gave him the bad-boy image which made him irresistible. His sarcastic personality masked his giving heart, making him the tri-fecta of perfection, when you counted his body.

  "Let's get back before they wonder where we went," he replied.

  "What about your wallet?"

  "It's in my back pocket." He smiled widely, making my heart skip a beat, as he pulled me into his side. With his arm over my shoulder, we walked back.

  My brain screamed that this was the universe trying to stop me from making the biggest mistake of my twenties, where my heart would be broken into irreparable shards.

  He leaned over and whispered into my ear, “Stop thinking. We don't have bad luck. The world's just preparing for the life altering-change it will have to endure when we finally get together-because I can promise you; it will be epic.”

  I shuddered as his words penetrated my brain, fanning the fire that had been burning since the moment I’d laid eyes on him. My usual response would’ve been to roll my eyes at such a cheesy line, but I knew he was right. When we were together, the world as I knew it would never be the same.

  He bit my earlobe lightly, eliciting an embarrassing moan from me. “Do you know how fucking sexy you are? I can’t keep my hands off of you; you drive me crazy.”

  I turned my head, wanting a glimpse of the confidence he had in us. He cocked his head to the side as I searched desperately, wanting to confirm this wasn’t some fleeting moment for him. My brain told me it didn't matter, since I was letting him go soon

  “What is it?” he asked, his voice agitated.

  I was sure it was frustrating that he couldn't decipher what I was thinking. I shook my head, and plastered on my fake smile. It felt foreign and wrong, since I hadn't used it in so long, but it was ingrained in me and glided back effortlessly.

  “Take that fake-ass smile off your face.” He clenched his jaw as mine unhinged and hung open. I’d never been called out before. Was I more transparent than I thought, or was Kill able to see through me?

  He waited patiently for me to answer his question, but I was saved when I saw Jet and Amy approaching us. I laughed and pointed so Kill would look at them. He turned to see Jet grinning, his face painted to look like a tiger. Amy was on his back sporting a matching paint job. Jet growled at me, making pawing motions with his hands when they reached us.

  “Sexy,” I said.

  Kill squeezed my shoulder, and I automatically leaned into him.

  “You think so?” Jet asked, smiling even wider. His mop of curly brown hair bounced around as the girls tattooed on his arms came along for the ride.

  “Oh yeah, there's nothing sexier than a man in full-face tiger paint.”

  “What about me?” Amy asked, pouting from her perch on Jet’s back.

  Kill answered before I could, “You look gggrrreeeatttt...”

  Amy squealed with delight.

  “Back off; she's mine,” Jet said, reaching back and pinching her ass.

  D, Van, and Jessie came up while we were talking. Jessie held a bag in one hand and Van’s hand in the other.

  “What did you get?” I asked, shrugging out of Kill's embrace to keep from stressing D out.

  “You can’t see it,” Jessie said, snatching the bag away from me and putting it behind her back.

  “Why?” I whined, pretending to try and get it from her.

  “It’s for your birthday,” she told me, handing it to Van, who promptly put it behind his back.

  “When's your birthday?” D asked.

  My cheeks heated up when he asked. I’d hoped the date of my birthday wouldn't be brought up, because the attention always made me uncomfortable.

  “Next month, August fourteenth,” Kill answered for me.

  D frowned at Kill's comment.

  “Are you ready to go find a spot?” I asked, not caring how obvious the subject change was.

  Amy spoke before D could ask anymore questions. “Yeah, let’s go find a spot,” Amy answered. I could’ve kissed her for the assist.

  We walked toward the grass, occasionally stopping to look at booths. Kill found a funnel cake stand, and true to his lie to get me out to the parking lot, he bought me one. I blushed at the memory of our searing kiss in the parking lot while we’d been ‘getting his money’ for the lost bet. The boys were recognized often and stopped many times for autographs and pictures.

  We finally found a spot and sat on the grass to listen to the music. Kill and I were people-watching, laughing at the little kids dancing around. The boys were approached a couple more times as people caught sight of them, but for the most part, we were left alone. I ended up sitting in the middle between Kill and D, which was super comfortable, if my other option had been a seat cushioned with razor blades.

  I picked at the funnel cake, no longer interested in it. Kill leaned over until our shoulders touched, “What’s wrong?”

  I shrugged, catching sight of D out of the corner of my eye. He didn't appear happy by Kill’s nearness, probably figuring we wouldn’t stay away from each other.

  “Let’s play a game,” Kill said loudly, so everyone in our little group could hear.

  "What kind of game?" Amy asked, leaning against Jet.

  “Pick someone out of the crowd and give them a back story,” Kill said.

  "I call dibs on him," Jet cried, pointing toward a guy dressed in tiny American-flag shorts, a stained wife-beater, and to top off the ensemble a red sequined cowboy hat perched proudly on his head.

  "Damn, I was going to claim him," D said, scanning the crowd.

  "You snooze; you lose," Jet said. "That right there is Fred Frek," Jet started as all o
f us watched Fred begin to dance wildly to the music. "Fred's cursed with a magic mirror. When he looks into it, it makes him look good no matter what he's wearing. It was gifted to him by his ex-girlfriend, who happened to be a witch with a grudge. Poor Fred has no idea he looks like that. According to his mirror, he walked out of his house today looking as dapper as Fred Astaire. That's why he's so confident with his attire. Poor Fred," Jet finished, shaking his head as his subject tripped on his own cowboy boots and landed on his ass.

  When we stopped laughing, Van went next. He picked a lady in a tie-dye dress, her bright red hair swirling around her.

  We played backstory with a few other people, until it was time for the fireworks. The night air had cooled down considerably, and I shrugged into my sweater before moving in closer to Kill, trying to siphon some of his heat.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  I nodded as he put his arm around me, pulling me closer into his body. D huffed a breath out next to me. I stiffened, realizing how much I was affecting him. I began to pull away, but Kill tightened his hold on me, keeping me put.

  The fireworks started, taking D's attention off us and toward the sky. Music played in the background in sync with the bursts. A huge smile pulled across my face, and we oohed and aahed along with everyone else.

  When the grand finale started, the whole park began to scream and whistle. Kill removed his arm around my shoulders, and put his fingers to his lips whistling loudly.

  When it was over, and the roar of applause melted into the night sky along with the smoky residue from the blasts, we trudged along with the rest of the crowd. Kill had his arm over my shoulder, as we talked excitedly about the display.

  D kept stealing glances at me. He didn't need to speak, because his eyes conveyed how unhappy he was that I was allowing Kill to hold me close.

  When we got home, we ended up in the kitchen devouring left-over BBQ. Jet and Amy went to shower off their tiger paint when Van and Jessie headed to bed. I was proud of Jessie; she hadn’t answered her phone when her parents had called, staunching the imminent fight.