Surviving Faith (The JackholeS, #2)

by Joy Eileen

  “Hey, baby girl, you sound happy,” he replied, and I blushed, knowing Kill and his soon-to-be naked body was the reason.

  “Just happy to hear your voice. How is everything? Anything new and exciting?” I asked. I’d been neglecting my dad since Kill and I had started getting more serious.

  “Nothing new and exciting to report. Martha's starting a garden in the backyard, which means I’ve been starting a garden while she supervises,” he said, laughing at his own joke.

  “It’s good for you,” I said. Wanting him to know where my loyalties lay, I added, “Don’t let her work you too hard.”

  He laughed, and I could picture him grinning while he sat in his favorite blue recliner in front of the TV. “She’s not. I just like to give her a hard time. How’s my boy doing? Is he working hard?”

  My stomach dropped at the mention of Jason. The boulder started completing a gymnastics routine, making me reach for my bottle of Tums. I popped some in my mouth and chewed them quietly while trying to decide how to proceed with the Jason conversation.

  I didn’t want him to worry about me and telling him about my split with Jason would make him do just that. I also didn't want to explain how I was now living with a rock band consisting solely of boys.

  Gazing up at the ceiling, I cringed when I answered, “Jason's good. He's working a lot and traveling, trying to land new clients.”

  Bile rushed up my throat coating it, and I welcomed the pain. I felt awful for lying to my dad.

  “He's trying to get ahead so you guys can have a good life together. I'm so glad you found someone who takes care of you so well.”

  Tears stung my eyes as I choked on the words my dad unknowingly forced from my throat. “Yep, he's doing a good job.” My voice sounding shrill to my ears, but my dad hadn’t picked up on the change in tone. "Hey, Dad, I need to go get ready for work. I'll call you later, okay?” I said weakly, wanting to get off the phone before I had to spew out more lies.

  I hated lying to my dad. All of a sudden, it seemed like it was all I’d been doing. Every lie I’d ever told him revolved around Jason somehow, and I hated him even more for making me betray my dad.

  “Alright, I'll talk to you later. Call me on your next day off.”

  “Okay, Dad, I will. I love you,” I said, pulling my legs up to my chest and resting my chin on my knees.

  “Love you too. Talk to you soon.”

  I hung up and stared at the wall, letting the phone fall out of my hand and drop to the bed. My door slammed shut, scaring the hell out of me. Kill stood in my room, his face bright red with anger.

  I didn’t have to ask if he’d overheard my conversation; it was obvious he’d heard everything. We stared at each other for what seemed like hours, my heart banging around inside my chest.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, and I had to stop myself from running to him and wrapping my body around him. I was afraid he might reject me if I tried to soothe him.

  “It’s not what you think," I stated lamely.

  I wanted to say something to remove the pain from his face. His eyes snapped open, the blue more prominent with the anger swirling within them.

  “Damn it, Faith." Even though his reply was whispered, it made me flinch.

  “I didn’t want to tell my dad. I was afraid he would make me come home or press charges on Jason.”

  His jaw clenched, and my stomach constricted painfully.

  “You could’ve told him you broke up. You didn’t have to tell him all the details, even though I think you should.”

  I stood, wanting to be at my full height for the battle we were entering into. “I can’t tell him. I don’t want him to think of me as pathetic for staying in an abusive relationship for as long as I did. He's always so worried about me. I can’t have him worrying more. I don’t want him to have another stroke,” I seethed. The anger heated my words striking him with more force.

  “Or is it because you want a way back in when you decide to go back to Jason? Why tell your dad you broke up if there's a possibility it's only temporary right, Faith? Is that why you wanted to keep us a secret from the guys? You need to grow up and face your past.”

  It wasn’t lost on me that he called me by my name instead of Slick. I was too pissed off that he’d implied I would eventually go running back to Jason that I didn't care what he called me.

  “I. Am. Not. Her. You know I would never go back to him. Stop with the lame excuses,” I yelled. I got into his face, wanting to drive my point home.

  "I will if you will," he taunted.

  “It has nothing to do with me going back to Jason. I'll never put myself in a situation like that again. It has everything to do with protecting my dad, and you're an idiot, because you know that, Killian. You can't just order me around. You told me you would give me time. You told me you wouldn't push, but that's what you're doing right now.” I stuck my finger into his chest, poking it hard wanting to bury my words inside his body until it was all he knew.

  He took my finger off his chest and looked down at our hands. “I can’t do this, Faith.”

  Tears started to flood my eyes at his admission. It took everything I had not to let them fall. He watched our fingers, refusing to look me in the eye.

  “I can’t let you into my heart if you aren’t willing to tell people about us. I'm not in high school anymore. I don't want to play games and hide what we're doing. If you have to pretend, then there's no point. I thought I could be patient with you. I knew it was going to take a lot for you to break away from the thoughts in your head, but it hurts too much.”

  My strength escaped me, physically manifesting itself in the tears tracking down my face. There was nothing I could say to convince him I’d been hiding the secret of us for a good reason; he had already made up his mind.

  “I just need more time,” I said, even though I knew it was useless. I still felt the need to try and explain. But really, time was already slipping away from us.

  His eyes finally connected with mine. Using his free hand, he brushed the tears from my face.

  “It's not just that. You're hiding us from everyone, and I can't do it. I won't be in a relationship with someone who's ashamed of us. Of someone who has no confidence in what we have. I’m sorry, Faith.”

  He leaned down and kissed my forehead, before leaving me in the middle of my room with tears racing down my cheeks. When my door closed, I was faced with my reflection. The mirror hanging on my door mocked my pain. I stared at myself until I couldn’t stand the sight any longer, and then collapsed on my bed.

  My defense mechanism kicked in, and red-hot, acidic anger surged through my body. I allowed the emotion to take over. Anger was easier to handle than the utter heartbreak I was currently feeling. I was furious that Jason was still ruining my life. I was pissed that Kill didn’t have enough trust in me, and I was irate that I’d allowed myself to get into this position in the first place.

  Because I had to get to work, the time constraint on my pity party kept me from falling into a full-blown depression. I got up, grabbing a handful of Tums before heading into the bathroom for damage control.

  The red rings around my eyes made it obvious I’d been crying, and there wasn’t much I could do about it. Donning my sunglasses, I headed downstairs, wanting to avoid all questions about my current state.

  Jet and Van were playing a heated video game while Amy played on her phone, allowing me to get to the front door without being acknowledged. Kill was nowhere to be seen, and my heart squeezed painfully at his absence. My conscience swirled through my head on my way to work, telling me it wouldn’t have lasted between us anyway.

  I also reminded myself that I had made it through much worse, and that the pain in my heart would heal eventually. My heart laughed the rest of the drive at that little wisdom nugget.

  Chapter 7

  Jessie noticed me as soon as I walked in. She opened her mouth with a questioning look. I shook my head, mouthing later, pointing out Misty, the
waitress who had a major crush on Kill, as she swapped out her stuff in her locker.

  Jessie acknowledged me with a nod and kept her mouth shut. Denise came in next, heading straight toward her locker. We made our way to the bar, and I avoided Jessie’s concerned look by making small talk with Denise.

  Ryan was already mixing drinks for two businessmen as they shamelessly flirted with her. They were gazing at her like she was the greatest thing ever, and with those enamored faces I assumed a hefty tip was in her future.

  “Hey, sexy girls,” Ryan said when she spotted us. She winked at the businessmen when she set their drinks in front of them before walking over to us.

  “Hey, woman, you need to be careful. You have those two dazzled,” I said indicating the two still staring at her.

  She turned, and they tried unsuccessfully to pretend they weren’t just watching her adoringly while her back was turned.

  “What can I say? Momma needs a new pair of shoes,” she replied, walking back to the kitchen window to pick up an order Dax had just called out.

  She set the food on a tray, and I snagged it, thankful for the distraction. Ryan directed me to the food’s destined table, and I scurried off, hoping to avoid Jessie for the rest of the night.

  The bar was busy enough that I was able to brush Jessie off for most of my shift. I felt pathetic, because every time the door to the bar opened, I glanced up hoping to see Kill, as if he would magically come to his senses and strut in.

  When the boys did arrive, my romantic notions were smashed into millions of pieces. Jet walked in without his usual fanfare. Everyone looked at him, anticipating his opening line, but the bell remained motionless.

  Amy, who stood next to him, nudged him to get his attention. He tried to smile at his waiting fans, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He rang the bell half-heartedly and muttered, “We have arrived. You’re welcome,” before heading to the table.

  The customers stared at him, wide eyed. Jet's ringing the bell and making some ridiculous remark when he arrived was one of the highlights of the night. His lack of enthusiasm seemed to catch everyone off guard. The customers glanced around, catching the confusion on everyone's face. Nobody seemed to know what to do.

  Van and D came next with a very inebriated Kill between the two of them. Van stared down at Kill with a worried expression—D just looked angry.

  Jessie ran over to Van, as he leaned over to speak to her, he never strayed from Kill’s side. I was fairly certain he was the only thing keeping Kill on his feet. Jessie shot Kill a disapproving look before turning her head. When she made eye contact with me, she gave me the same harsh look she’d given Kill.

  I turned around quickly, trying to escape her judgmental stare. My sharp turn caused me to run right into the table behind me. It jabbed into my stomach, knocking the breath out of me. My eyes filled with tears, and I had to breathe through my mouth to keep myself from falling apart.

  “Are you alright?” A guy sitting at the next table asked.

  “Yeah, just clumsy I guess,” I said, practically sprinting to the bar while wishing the night would hurry up and die.

  The boys got Kill to the table. Our eyes connected, his blurred with alcohol and mine burning with pain. He turned his head and smiled at one of the bar skanks at the table nearby. She took his lead and sauntered over to him. Her short black skirt was doing an awful job of covering her. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her on his lap and making her giggle annoyingly while her skirt rode up higher, revealing her lace panties.

  As I stalked toward their table, I had to forcibly unclench my fists.

  Jessie intercepted me before I reached them. “I can get their orders.” The table was now infested with bar skanks.

  “No, I’ve got it,” I said, walking around her and making my way toward the table.

  “What can I get you guys?” I asked, sugary sweetness dripping from every syllable.

  I did my best to ignore Kill and his entourage. Van looked up at me with wide eyes, and I adopted my best fake smile, still not looking over at Kill’s side of the table.

  “I’ll just have the usual,” Van answered, also ignoring him.

  “Me too,” Jet replied. He kept stealing glances at Kill, his eyes taking on a look of bewilderment. Amy was sitting on Jet's lap. She reached up and soothed the crinkles from his forehead successfully detaching his eyes from Kill.

  Amy seemed uncomfortable with Kill's behavior. Her eyes darted everywhere but where Kill sat. She ordered a soda since she was the official DD, snagging a bag of M&M's from her purse. Squaring my shoulders, I turned toward Kill. He now had two girls sitting on his lap, both of them whispering in his ear. His eyes were glazed over by what I assumed to be a copious amount of alcohol.

  “I'll walk over with you,” D said sharply, getting up before I could refuse his offer.

  “Wait, Faith. What about me?” Kill asked, his words slightly slurred, but I could hear the poison behind them.

  With my smile still intact, I made a point of looking at him, ignoring each of his skanks while I resisted the urge to rip them away from him and slap some sense into him. It was comforting he wasn't kissing or touching them inappropriately. But he allowed them on his lap, and that alone had my blood boiling.

  “I don’t think you need any more tonight, Killian,” I said, letting the sweetness in my voice hide the pain.

  “Ahh, don’t worry about me, Faith. I'm sure I can find a ride home.”

  The girls circled him like vultures and giggled. "I'll give you a ride home," one of the skanks on his lap purred, stroking his shirt.

  "I'll give you any kind of ride you want," skank number two said. The ones too slow to make it onto his lap tittered behind him whispering things into his ear, I couldn't hear, thankfully. I turned and walked toward the bar, D keeping pace next to me. My mouth was in a tight line, as I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  I hadn’t taken more than five steps before Kill called out, telling me he wanted a beer and to put whatever his friends wanted on his tab. I refused to turn and just kept walking, D silently shadowing me.

  "The boys want the usual. Kill wants a beer and said to put whatever the skank patrol orders on his tab," I told Ryan, my whole body pulsing rage.

  "I think Kill has had enough tonight," Ryan said, her eyes focused over my shoulder on Kill.

  "Don't worry; he's not driving. He has a ride home." I snatched my full tray off the bar, so I could deliver the drinks and then get away from everyone for a moment.

  Ryan motioned Catcher over, leaning over the bar to talk to him. He glanced over at Kill, making us aware of whom they were talking about. D grabbed my elbow before I could move.

  “This is what he does, Faith. Honestly, it lasted longer than I expected, but he can’t be with just one woman. I'm glad you didn’t let him in so he could hurt you. Let him be your friend. It will be better for you and for the rest of us.” D motioned me with his hand to look over at the table.

  Kill now had three girls sitting on his lap. I wanted to correct D in his assumption, to let him know why Kill was acting the way he was, but realized there was no point in arguing now.

  I’d hurt Kill, and from the looks of it, he was never going to allow another person to get close to him again. Instead, it seemed he would now be bouncing from one meaningless person to the next, or maybe more than one at a time.

  Van’s face was filled with concern, but he didn’t say anything when I reached the table. Amy and Jet left to play pool at the other side of the bar. D followed them, leaving Van to play babysitter.

  “Thanks, Faith,” Kill replied. His voice had sobered up some, and he was shifting the girls off of his lap. He stood and downed his beer in one gulp, banging it on the table before heading off toward the bathroom.

  My senses felt light, as if I was having an out of body experience. I went around to make sure all my tables were taken care of, not really present in the moment. Kill made his way toward Catcher. I watched them talk,
Catcher frowning as Kill spoke. When they finished, Catcher shook his head and slapped Kill on the back before he returned to his skanks.

  Denise met me while I was at the bar waiting for Ryan. Her eyes were comforting when she hugged me. "What's up with that boy? Why is he acting stupid?" she asked.

  I opened my mouth, but when the words refused to come, I shrugged, pretending I had no idea what she was talking about.

  Her eyes drilled into mine before she patted my back. "It will all work out, Faith. He never was a one woman man. That's a rockstar for you."

  "We were never together. He's not my problem."

  She grabbed her full tray and walked away, leaving me to stew in my own thoughts.

  Jessie finally caught up to me near the end of our shift. The last time I’d looked toward Kill, I couldn't make him out through the thick wall of sluts surrounding his table. I refused to look over again. Thankfully, Bambi had the night off. I wouldn’t have been able to handle her I told you so looks all night.

  “What the heck is going on?” Jessie asked when most of the bar had emptied out, and I couldn't avoid her any longer.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, glancing over at Kill’s table, still unable to make out his profile amidst the sea of whores.

  Jessie followed my gaze and shook her head before bringing her attention back to me. “I’m assuming the reason you came in tonight looking like you’d been crying your eyes out has to do with that over there.”

  She glanced back at Kill’s table. I kept my eyes trained on her, not wanting to witness anymore.

  “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

  I blinked the traitorous tears back. This bar had seen enough of my tears; I wasn't shedding another one. “Not really, no,” I answered, figuring it was in my best interest to give her some form of explanation though, in the hopes it would be enough to keep her from asking more questions.

  “You warned me to stay away, and I did just that. He lost interest in the chase just like you said he would."