Surviving Faith (The JackholeS, #2)

by Joy Eileen

  I watched Kill out of the corner of my eye as he drove me onto campus. I sighed when he pulled into the parking lot closest to my first class, not wanting to face the outside world. Wishing I could just stay in the car with Kill, shrouded from reality. Why couldn't life work like that?

  Kill reached behind me and snagged my bag. Our eyes met, and for a second his wall had cracks in it. I could see emotion pouring out of them. He spackled the holes quickly so nothing else could escape before I had a chance to figure out what I’d just had a glimpse of.

  Class droned on slowly, and by the end my head was pounding. I stumbled to my next class with my sunglasses firmly glued to my face, assuming they would be a permanent fixture the rest of the day.

  I almost wept when we were released from the professor's clutches. I realized Kill and I didn’t plan out where we were going to meet. I fumbled in my bag for my phone. If I had to wait for him, given my current condition, it was going to be hell. Before I could retrieve my phone, my bag was being lifted from my shoulder. I had to bite back the sob wanting to tear itself from my throat when I saw Kill standing there.

  “Hey, Slick, rough day?”

  I nodded and leaned into him when he slipped his arm over my shoulder fitting me in next to him.

  “Hey, what's wrong?” he asked as I slumped against him.

  The concern in his voice made it impossible to keep the tears at bay, and two slid out before I could staunch the flow. “Long day,” I replied.

  My voice was harsh from the amount of work it took to keep from sobbing. I hated this feeling. I’d never been much of a drinker, and now I had confirmation as to why I shouldn’t become a professional drinker anytime soon.

  School had always been my escape when my mom had taken off, and then when I lived with Jason. Being in class today and staring at the clock on the wall, willing time to move faster, made me feel like I failed myself.

  “Are you sure?” Kill asked, still unmoving.

  I didn’t want him to look at me. Even with my glasses on, I was sure I looked awful, and I didn't have my emotions in check just yet.

  “Yeah, it was just a rough day. I don’t normally drink as much as I did last night, and being in class just exacerbated my hangover.”

  Trent suddenly appeared, his face tight with worry. “Faith, are you alright? You don’t look so good.”

  Kill held me tighter, which should have been impossible, given our proximity. I once again underestimated Kill, something I should’ve learned by now not to do.

  “I’m fine, just too much partying last night,” I answered weakly.

  My skin felt clammy, and the boulder was doing pirouettes in my stomach. I closed my eyes behind my sunglasses, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a ball and fall into oblivion.

  “You went out drinking last night?”

  I heard the judgment in Trent’s voice, and it pissed me off. A friend wouldn’t lecture me, especially at a time when I felt as though I might pass out.

  “It was her birthday, and all her friends wanted to make it special for her,” Kill answered for me. His voice was menacing, and its intensity made me shiver. Kill took my movement as a sign that he needed to get me out of there, thankfully.

  “Happy birthday,” Trent said lamely, but Kill was already leading me toward the car. At least that was what I assumed was happening, being that my eyes were still closed.

  Trent mumbled under his breath that I needed new friends. I was grateful Kill didn't hear him as he herded me toward the car. Once there, he practically picked me up and placed me in the passenger seat. By now, my head was pounding, and I had to swallow the bile trying to escape. Kill cranked the A/C, helping my clammy skin come back to a normal state.

  “Did you not look in your bag?”

  I leaned my head on the glass, letting the vents blow cool air over my face assisting in helping me control my urge to puke. I didn’t answer him because I really didn't understand what he was asking, and my head hurt too much to try to decipher it. He moved around, and shuffled through my bag.

  “Shit.” He placed a bottle of water and a granola bar on my lap. “I put these in your bag so you could snack and drink while you were in class so you wouldn’t feel so bad.”

  I opened my eyes a crack. Kill's jaw was clenched, his dimple flashing on and off. I took a small bite of the granola bar, but the bile rushed back, so I sipped the water to wash it down, refusing to let Kill see me get sick again.

  The water rolled around in my stomach, and I felt the boulder slosh around it, like they were circling each other looking for weaknesses. After a minute they decided they could coexist together for the time being and settled down.

  I continued to take small sips, and by the time I had finished half the bottle, we were pulling into the garage. Kill shut off the engine, and we sat in silence as I finished the rest of the water along with the granola bar. I still felt like hell, but it was an upgrade from the walking death I’d felt minutes before.

  “Can you eat more?” Kill asked. I shook my head, and he chuckled lightly. “Let’s get you to bed, lightweight.”

  I moved to gather my stuff, but he stopped me. "I'll bring your stuff in later. Let's get you in the house."

  I followed him upstairs like a dejected shadow. Jet laughed at me from the couch. "Can't keep up with the rockstars, huh?"

  His taunts gave me enough strength to lift my arm and flip him off, making everyone in the living room laugh. Jet said something about taking me up on my invitation, but I shut down my senses with every step closer to my room. Once there, I collapsed on my bed and curled into a ball, happy to have arrived at my destination. My daydreams throughout the day had mainly revolved around climbing into bed.

  Kill chuckled as he removed my shoes, not bothering with anything else. I was ready to sleep off this awful feeling. When he began to walk away, I wanted to reach out to him, but my limbs weren't cooperating. I settled for saying his name quietly. He came back over and sat on the edge of the bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

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

  “Stay,” I pleaded. A sense of deja vu twisted around me. Until I had time to sleep this off, one word at a time would be my limit. He was quiet for a long time, and my body begged me to let it fall off the precipice into unconsciousness, but I fought the urge as I waited for his response.

  “I can’t. Everyone's downstairs, and they'll wonder why I stayed in your room.” He put his finger on my lips, silencing me, even though my protest sounded more like a mewling kitten.

  “Slick, we can’t do that. Not until you're ready to commit to us.”

  He took his finger from my lips, and I heard the door close quietly behind him. Tears escaped my eyes and slid silently down my cheeks to land uselessly on my pillow. I didn’t make a sound, too drained to do anything except cry without noise until I fell asleep. Kill’s words echoed through my aching head before everything went black.

  The room was dark, and I was discombobulated. I switched on the lamp standing atop my nightstand and blinked rapidly at the blinding light. There was a piece of toast in a sandwich bag, more water, and Advil waiting for me.

  I took the medicine and munched on the toast, feeling more human than I had all day. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't it be a normal guy who wasn't about to skyrocket into stardom?

  I retrieved my bag and noticed Trent had sent me a text.

  Hey, I wanted to

  make sure you

  were feeling better

  I texted him back as I took a bite of toast.

  I'm better. I

  almost feel human

  again.

  He responded right away.

  Do you want to

  meet me somewhere

  to eat?

  I replied just as fast.

  I'm not up to going out.

  I also have a ton of

  homework to catch up on

  Which technically was a lie. I was already ahead
in my assigned reading. I just didn’t want to go out—especially not with Trent.

  Downstairs, I found the guys in the living room eating pizza.

  “She’s alive,” Jet said with mock surprise on his face.

  Van hit him in the back of the head, making him scowl.

  “How are you doing, Slick?”

  I sat next to Kill, pulling my knees into my chest so I could rest my head on them.

  “I’m alive,” I replied.

  Jet looked at Van as if he’d been validated in some way. Van just rolled his eyes.

  “Do you want something to eat?” D asked, glancing between me and Kill. I could see him mentally calculating the distance between the two of us, wondering if we were leaning into each other more than we should be. Although I felt better, I didn’t have the strength to deal with D’s obsession with my relationship with Kill. I chose to ignore his stare, answering his question instead.

  “I'm hungry, but I don’t think I'm ready to try real food just yet.”

  I could tell D wanted to say more, but he went back to his pizza. Kill nudged me with his shoulder, and even though I didn’t feel completely human, seeing his face made me feel like all was right in the world. My stomach rumbled at the smell of the pizza wafting through the air.

  "You should try to eat. You'll feel better," Kill said, sliding his plate closer to me.

  I grabbed the piece and took a tentative bite, not trusting myself to try a whole slice just yet. Kill tried to hide his smile at my eagerness to comply, but I caught it and nudged him back. We ended up passing his food back and forth, not saying a word to each other.

  D stared at us, and I smiled back. I needed to talk to him soon. When he got up and went to the kitchen to get something to drink, I figured now was as good a time as any other, so I followed him.

  His face registered shock when I walked past him and leaned on the kitchen counter for support. He stared at me, and I took a deep breath, wanting to get this awkwardness out of the way quickly.

  “We need to talk.”

  He began to bristle, but I plowed on, not letting him distract me.

  “D, what's up? I get that you have warned me away from Kill. What I don't get is why you’re constantly putting down our relationship, or any other guy around me for that matter. I don't like this tension between us, and I don't know how to fix it."

  His eyes narrowed, and I waited for him unleash some serious anger on me. I braced myself more firmly against the counter. "Has Kill told you how we met?" he asked quietly.

  "He's told me some."

  "So, you're aware my mother is a crackwhore, and the only time she fought for me was when she needed money."

  I nodded my head, unable to speak.

  "I like stability. I grew up not knowing if the electricity was going to be on, or if my mom would be alive when I got home from school. I don't like the unknown."

  "I understand that D. What does that have to do with me and Kill?"

  "Kill's the leader of this band, and in a way, this family. He's stable. He may have been with a different girl every night, but he never would do anything to hurt the band or our family. With you, he's unpredictable. He thinks you could be the one, and when one of you inevitably hurts the other, this family is going to suffer. I don't want either of you to get hurt—or any of the rest of us either."

  "I still don't understand. Sometimes you act like you have a thing for me."

  D laughed. "I'm not good with people. I didn't mean for it to come off like that. I just wanted you to recognize how bad you two would be together."

  "But you were mean to other guys who hit on me as well," I shot back.

  "I don't want to see you get hurt."

  "What's going to happen when you find the one you're willing to risk your stable world for?"

  "I don't believe in love like that. I love my brothers, and I’ve come to love you. A true love between a man and a woman doesn't exist. Believe me, I watched my mom seek it out almost daily. And if you need an example closer to home, look at how much Jessie hurts Van," he growled.

  I shook my head and walked over to give him a hug. "I love you too, D. Just to let you know—I'll be here for you when you meet her."

  "It's not going to happen, Faith. Stop trying to force the subject."

  "I'll be fine, D, no matter what I choose to do with Kill or any other man."

  "Faith, don't ruin this family. Don't ruin yourself after all you went through," D hissed, moving closer until our toes were touching.

  “D,” Kill said from behind him.

  D stiffened but didn’t move away from me. “We were just talking.” D rolled his eyes as Kill pushed in front of me.

  Kill's kind eyes were more green than blue and filled with fear and anger. Van was next to Kill, but all I was focused on was Kill’s face.

  When he realized I was fine, he hugged me to his chest, putting his chin on the top of my head. I inhaled deeply, taking in the clean scent that was Kill’s and Kill’s alone.

  I could practically see the apology poised to leave D's lips. I gave him a hug, after which I raised my hand so he could shake it.

  “Friends?”

  He stared at my palm and for a moment I didn’t think he would take it. When he finally relented, his grip was firm, and I could tell there was a battle going on inside his head.

  "Remember, I'll be there for you, D. You're going to find her," I told his back as he walked toward the backyard.

  "It's not going to happen, Faith. I won't try to interfere with your search for your fairytale anymore. I will say I told you so when it goes badly though."

  Van moved to go after him, but I grabbed his arm and held him back. Kill stared at me, most likely trying to figure out what was happening. Whatever he was pondering, I wasn’t about to give him time to figure it out.

  “You need to go talk to D.”

  Disbelief registered on Kill's face, but then he nodded, realizing it was long overdue. He kissed the top of my head before disappearing into the backyard.

  “So, sis, what the hell is going on between you and my bandmates?” I laughed at Van before returning to the couch. Van followed me and waited for an answer.

  “Nothing.”

  Van cocked his eyebrow at me, and I rolled my eyes, trying to figure out what to tell him.

  “Where's Jet?” I asked, procrastinating.

  “He’s teaching guitar lessons to one of the kids Amy tutors. He hated being away from her, so he started tagging along. One of her kids recognized him and asked if he would teach him the basics. Now, spill.”

  “Honestly, I just realized how jaded and scared D is about life in general. We finally had the talk we should’ve had awhile ago. I needed him to stop putting Kill, or any other guy I happen to be around, down.”

  "What did he say? Does he have a thing for you?"

  "Nope, I asked him straight out if he did. He said he doesn't believe in romantic love. His mom hardened his heart. It all came down to him not wanting me to rock the boat of our little family by attempting something he feels will inevitably end badly." I kept my mouth shut about his thoughts on Van's failing relationship with Jessie.

  “He'll figure it out when he finds someone he has a spark with. Now, what about Kill?”

  What about Kill?

  My mind went into overload. Memories blasted through my head. Kill's lips pressed firmly over mine as his tongue entered my mouth, hot and ready. The way he’d let me grind on him until I reached an incredible orgasm on my birthday... Van cleared his throat, and I blushed deeply.

  “I can’t really answer that question, because I don’t know how.”

  We locked eyes for a long time, and I had to work not to fidget under his stare.

  “You two are dumbasses, but you'll figure it out soon enough.” He began channel surfing, letting his words of wisdom pierce my mind.

  I curled up on the couch to watch some mindless TV, all the while wondering what D and Kill were talking about. I coul
dn’t interpret anything from their faces when they came in later. Kill sat next to me and pulled my legs onto his lap, and even though I’d slept for much of the day, I drifted off to sleep.

  Kill carried me to bed, where I fell asleep immediately. When Kill climbed in beside me later that night, I didn’t have the energy to ask him about their conversation.

  Chapter 12

  My days were now infused with school, work, singing, and Kill. Always Kill. I badgered him relentlessly, but he refused to tell me what he and D had talked about. I finally let it drop until I could come up with a better tactic for getting the information out of him.

  D stopped making comments about Kill’s manwhoring ways. And he seemed friendlier toward me, as if the chip on his shoulder wasn't digging into him as deeply.

  Every night, Kill crawled into bed with me and held me tight. We talked about our days, the length of our discussion dependent upon how tired we were. We never discussed the incident in the supply room on my birthday. After it happened, I was afraid our friendship would be awkward, but we both seemed to have swept it under the rug.

  Sometimes I would reach for him, like I had when we’d been waiting for my period to take a hike, but I would remember at the last second we weren't there anymore and would pull back. There were times I saw a pained look on Kill’s face, and I wondered if he was having just as hard of a time keeping his hands off me as I was him.

  On the work front, Ryan and Bambi’s rivalry had escalated. I found myself eager to get to work just to hear the insults they threw at each other.

  Kill and I were in bed laughing quietly as I told him the colorful insult Ryan had thrown at Bambi earlier that week. My favorite was that her vagina was going to fall out from all of the STD's growing inside it.

  Kill stopped laughing, and his body tensed. I immediately began to worry, positive Kill was about to say something I didn’t want to hear.

  “I'm not going to be able to run with you tomorrow,” he said into my hair. I tried to figure out why he seemed so tense.

  When I didn’t respond, he kept talking. “I have something I need to do, and I don’t know how long it will take.” His voice, although hushed, had an edge to it.