by Joy Eileen
“What do you have to do?” I asked. My brain screamed at me to shut up. I wanted to take the words back as soon as they left my mouth. He moved his head displacing my hair as his chin passed it.
“I'll tell you later, but not now.”
My head circled with horrible scenarios.
“Whatever you're thinking, stop. It isn’t bad, and I promise to tell you later,” he said, chuckling.
I closed my eyes and banished all the thoughts running rampant in my brain. “Promise it isn’t bad,” I pleaded, unable to stop thinking.
He sighed deeply. “Trust me.”
I stayed silent.
“Slick, I will earn your trust. One of these days.”
Guilt clawed through my body, making my heart work overtime to squeeze blood through it. “I want to trust you, and I'll try, but I also need you to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” he responded, and I was sure he believed it.
“No, you don’t. Anytime something goes wrong, you think I'm going back to Jason, and you push me away.”
He dragged me up until I was on top of him, staring at his beautiful face. I leaned my forehead to his and breathed him in.
“I know you're not going back to him. It's just a kneejerk reaction when you look like you're about to run away. It's more about me pushing your buttons than anything. We'll figure this out,” he said.
His lips brushed mine when he spoke, and my heart beat rapidly. I was sure he could feel my nipples digging into his chest. He moved his hips, adjusting himself, showing me he was just as turned on.
“I don’t know; sometimes I think we're just too fucked up to try,” I whispered, letting my lips brush his lightly.
His tongue slipped out and swiped across his lips making the heat between my thighs burn hotter.
“Fuck, don’t say shit like that.”
“Why not? Look at us. You're waiting for me to make some grand gesture and I don’t even know what you want. I'm afraid you're going to run off with some skank when you get bored. Or even worse, you're going to stick with me and miss out on the life you deserve.”
His eyes blazed in the dark, and I could see his jaw clench with frustration. “Slick,” he said in a harsh voice.
I readied for a fight. He took a deep breath, and his voice softened. “I want you. Yes, your relationship with Jason scared the shit out of me, and I handled it really shitty. But get this through your thick-ass head; I won’t want anyone else while you want me. Even after you're done with me. As soon as you figure that out, I'm never letting you go. A life with you is what I deserve.”
My stomach flipped wildly, and my thighs burned with need. Kill rolled over and arranged me next to him, keeping me close.
“I’m just waiting for you to catch up. For a smart girl, you're kind of slow.”
“What if you get tired of waiting?” I asked quietly.
“Never. Now go to sleep, Slick.”
After a while, his body relaxed and his breathing deepened before evening out. I moved out from under his arms. He protested in his sleep, and it took some finagling to untangle myself from him.
I leaned against the headboard and watched him while he slept, staying up for hours thinking about everything he’d done for me since the moment I’d walked into his life with my arms colored by bruises.
I smiled at the memory of how vulnerable he’d seemed when he started sleeping in my room, and telling me it was the best sleep he'd ever had. I knew what I needed to do; I just had to find the courage to do it. I glanced down at Kill and hoped I wasn't too late.
My eyes drooped, and I snuggled back down into his arms. I’d just drifted off when I felt Kill stir next to me. Pretending to be asleep, I evened out my breath, not wanting him to know I’d been staring at him like an obsessive stalker while he slept.
He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead before climbing out of bed. “Sleep well, Slick. Please, come to your senses. I need you.”
He walked out of the room as tears seeped from my closed eyes. I was wide awake as soon as I heard the door click shut, begging the ceiling for answers as to what I should do.
My eyes grew heavy, and surprisingly, I fell asleep again. I was brought back to consciousness when Kill whispered my name. My eyes fluttered open, and I was met by Kill’s blue ones.
“Hey, you slept in. You need to get up, or you're going to be late for school.”
His expression changed to worry, and I knew I looked awful since I was running on only a couple hours of sleep. “Are you feeling okay?”
He placed his hand on my forehead, as if checking to see if I were running a fever. I nodded and yawned, stretching my arms over my head. Kill groaned, his eyes on the girls while my arms were raised high above me. My shirt was taut over them, displaying them like trophies.
“I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Huh?” he asked. His eyes were still plastered to my chest.
I laughed, making them jiggle for his enjoyment. “Hey, Killer, eyes up here.”
His eyes slowly moved up to meet mine. I sucked in a shallow breath when I saw the desire drenched on his face. My eyes dipped to his mouth, and I bit my bottom lip, pulling it through my teeth. He followed the movement, and I had to hold back a moan from the lust he’d elicited.
He bent down, still focused on my lips. My whole body was on fire, and all I wanted was for him to kiss me again. Right before he touched my lips, he stopped.
“I have to go, and you need to get ready for school.” He rose and exited the room.
My breath was erratic, my emotions swirling around in a confused mess. Knowing I wasn’t going to get my answers from lying in bed all day, I got up and went to school.
After classes, I didn’t bother reading the letter on my windshield. My mind was too busy trying to figure out what to do about Kill. Trent found me after I shoved it into my bag.
“What the hell?” Trent asked, when I explained I hadn’t looked at it.
My head snapped up. Trent’s face was furious, and for the first time that day my mind had drifted away from Kill.
“Why are you yelling at me?” I asked, wondering if I’d missed something while my brain was in Kill-la-la land.
He ran his hands over his face before reaching out to grab my shoulders. I cringed at his touch, and my body shook as flashbacks of Jason ripped through my head.
“Trent, let go of me.”
This seemed to pull Trent out of his rage. “I’m sorry, Faith,” he replied, letting go of my shoulders and running his hands down my arms. “I'm just worried about you. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, but I am worried,” he finished lamely.
I placed my best fake smile on my face. “I know you're worried, and I appreciate your friendship. I just can’t deal with Jason’s threats today; that’s all. I'm fine though.”
“Let me make it up to you. Can I take you out to coffee?” he asked.
My stomach rolled at the thought, but I kept the smile in place. “Not today.”
His face dropped, and I felt bad. I knew he was trying to rectify our friendship.
“Tomorrow, I promise.”
Trent searched my face before nodding his head. “Okay, see you tomorrow.”
He let me go and left with a smile on his face. I let my smile fall as soon as he was out of sight, and rubbed my shoulders with a slight shudder. It took a couple of minutes of sitting in my car to pull myself together enough to drive home. All I wanted to do was curl up with Kill and forget about my weird day.
Of course, Kill wasn’t home. This day was a disaster. I took a hot shower, wanting to de-stress, resisting the urge to curl up in bed and cry. The boys would want food soon, so I forced myself to get dressed and go downstairs.
"Faith, do you know where Kill is?" D asked after calling him for the fourth time with no answer.
I’d just finished cooking dinner and was setting it out on the counter. "He said he had to be somewhere today, but he wouldn't tell me where he had
to go."
"I can't believe he's missing practice. We can't do anything without him," D said, glaring at his phone.
Kill walked into the house twenty minutes later.
"Where have you been? You missed practice," D demanded.
"Sorry, I had to be somewhere," Kill answered, brushing off D as he made his way toward the stairs. "I have to take a shower. I'll be down for dinner afterwards."
Kill was quiet during dinner. I tried to get him to look at me, but he wouldn't meet my eyes, even when I bumped his shoulder with mine.
My heart plummeted, and the rest of the night didn’t get any better. When I finally asked him what was wrong, all I got was a shoulder shrug in response.
It seemed like guys in general were being assholes today. Done with the male species, I decided to go to bed early.
Kill came in later but didn’t pull me to him as he normally did. I, myself, was too mad to bridge the gap. When I started to drift back to sleep, he let out a long sigh. Wrapping his arm around me, he pulled me close. I fell asleep with dread in my heart, unsure what exactly was going on.
Chapter 13
The next two weeks were hell. Kill continued to ignore me-and everyone else for that matter. I awoke every day wondering when he would tell me what was going on. Every time I asked him, he gave me a shrug, or mumbled something about being tired.
The only solace I received was when he crawled into my bed every night and held me tight. My stomach became my own worst enemy, and I went through more Tums than I ever had before. The stress of whatever Kill was going through, my classes, and Jason’s lovely letters plastered to my car was wearing me down.
Coffee with Trent became an almost daily occurrence. The hollow look in Kill’s eyes was something I couldn't bear, and I tended to escape to school. Trent behaved, and I told myself as long as he was good I would remain friends with him. I needed someone, and since he knew about the letters, it seemed logical to keep him close.
D noticed Kill’s behavior two or three days in. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked while I was in the kitchen going over the last conversation I had with Kill, for the thousandth time in my head.
“I’m fine,” I answered wiping my hands off on the towel I’d slung over my shoulder, my fake smile in place.
D gave me a look of pure pity. Anger prickled against my skin, and my smile faltered as my eyes narrowed. D seemed to have no sense of self-preservation, failing to notice the anger simmering on my face, because he gave me a smile equally matched with the pity in his eyes.
“I know Kill is acting like an asshole, but he can’t help it. He isn't the prince in your story. In fact, like I've been telling you, fairytales don't exist.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, like he wanted to console me.
I shrugged him off, my body vibrating with anger. “Stop it, D,” I warned through my teeth, unable to unclench my jaw.
“Think about it. Why do you think he's withdrawing from you? He wants to go back to what he knows but he doesn’t want to hurt you. This is real life, Faith. I tried to warn you. Love doesn't exist.”
“D, whatever's happening with Kill, he'll tell me when he's ready. We're not together. We're friends, so he shouldn’t feel guilty. The only one he's hurting is himself, so I don’t need your pity. I’ve been through a lot worse in my life, and I survived without sympathy from anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need it now.”
“I don’t pity you; I just want you to be prepared for the inevitable,” he said, trying to put his hand on my shoulder again.
“Enough, D. I know that your world's tilting with all these changes, but Kill's world is obviously tilting too. He needs your support, just like he’s supported you through everything you survived.”
I turned and took my anger out on the onion I’d previously been chopping. D stood behind me, and I willed him to go away. He finally left, and I attacked dinner with gusto, putting all my frustration into my cooking.
Kill’s somber mood affected everyone. Practices were no longer playful. Even Jet seemed more subdued than usual. He no longer tried to hump Kill's leg between songs.
Van pulled me aside after practice one day and asked if I knew what was going on with Kill. I shook my head dejectedly, wishing he would just open up to me.
My mind was never far from Kill, and my stomach let me know daily. To make sure I was thoroughly entrenched in hell, I went for my yearly gyno exam. I refused to tell Kill where I was going when he asked, and sadly, it was the most attention he had paid to me in days.
The first thing my doctor. noted was my address change. She’d been trying every year to get me to open up about the scarring surrounding my uterus. I should have known an address change would get her attention.
“So, Faith, I see you’ve moved,” she said, her eyes probing.
I nodded, not wanting to talk about leaving Jason. She stood there silently, waiting for an explanation. “I broke up with my boyfriend.”
She didn’t even try to hide her smile. “Are you safe?” she asked coming closer to inspect my face.
“I don’t know what you're talking about, but yes, I'm safe.” I thought about the letters hidden in the shoe box high in my closet, taunting me, but I pushed them back.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, pleading with her eyes for me to finally open up to her.
Just like every other time, I stayed quiet. “Can we just do the exam?” I asked.
She shook her head disappointedly before examining me. When it was over, she told me what I already knew, but wished not to be.
“Everything looks the same. Some of the scar tissue has broken which is probably why you were feeling more pain during your menstrual cycle. I don’t see any improvement, and the likelihood of your getting pregnant and carrying a baby to full term is still slim. I suggest you keep taking your birth control.”
Her words stung. Even though I knew I wasn't ready for a baby, I still hated the choice had been taken away from me. I got dressed, wanting nothing more than a hot shower.
At home, Kill was sitting on the couch staring at the blank TV. I sat next to him, drawing him out of his thoughts.
“Hey.”
“Hey, is everything alright with you?” I asked, feeling like this was all I asked him anymore.
“Yeah, I just have something on my mind.”
"Do you want to talk about it?"
His eyes never moved from the TV. After a moment, I gave up. “Okay, I'm just going to go take a shower,” I replied. Frustration latched onto my bones, making them feel tight and ready to burst.
It was obvious he had something on his mind, but being that I’d just gone through my own personal nightmare without pushing him away, I felt infuriated. Did he think my problems were insignificant compared to his? Of course, I didn’t know if they were or not, because he wouldn't confide in me. I stomped toward the stairs.
“Hey, Slick.”
I stopped on the first step but refused to turn around and acknowledge him. “I’m sorry I haven’t been who you need me to be, but I'm trying to make it better.”
Curiosity got the better of me. “What does that even mean?” I asked, fed up with him.
“I promise; I'll tell you when I know.”
Confusion pulsed up my spine at his response. I left him alone, afraid I would say something to hurt his feelings if I stayed any longer.
After my doctor’s appointment, my obsession with Kill took a backseat. I told myself not to waste any more time on him. I no longer asked him if he was okay, and even pretended to be asleep when he snuck into my room at night.
Kill's mood swings were almost unbearable. He snapped at everyone whenever they spoke to him. He’d stomp out of the house as soon as he heard the mail truck, checking the mailbox obsessively. I finally decided enough was enough. Nobody could live around Kill and his volatile temper.
After he stormed out of the house to get the mail, I decided to confront him as soon as he walked back in the door. I opened my mouth, re
ady to give him a lecture on getting his head out of his ass. As soon as I saw him, though, I closed my mouth. His face was pale and clammy, his blue-green eyes wide with fear, his limbs shaking.
“Kill.” I approached him slowly.
He sprinted the couple of steps separating us, pulling me into a fierce hug. I hugged him back, wanting to give him the support he sought, hoping it was enough. The expression on his face scared me.
He ghosted his mouth over mine. “I'll be right back, Slick.” He let me go and ran up to his room, closing the door behind him and taking a big manila envelope with him.
“What the fuck was that about?” Jet asked.
I turned to see the guys coming out of the garage. “I don’t know,” I replied just as confused.
We sat on the couch, and I watched the stairs, waiting for Kill to return. Jessie and Van watched TV and tried to get my mind off his peculiar behavior. Amy and Jet plied me with candy, and D kept shooting me looks I didn’t want to interpret. I had a feeling all my pent-up emotions would surface, and I would slap whatever look he had on his face off if I knew what he was thinking.
Kill finally came downstairs. His face was still pale, but his half smile almost made it to his eyes. “Hey, Slick. Can you come up here?”
He lingered on the bottom stair and waited for me to come toward him. I moved slowly, instinctually knowing that something big was about to happen. Whatever had been on his mind seemed to have finally surfaced. Everyone gave me a look of support, but for what reason, none of us knew.
I followed Kill upstairs sluggishly. My heart beat steadily as it pumped my anxiety-enriched blood through my body. It took all my concentration to move up each stair until we reached my room. Kill led me to the bed and sat down next to me, taking my hand in his. He traced my knuckles with his fingers, avoiding my eyes.
“Kill, what is it?” I asked, unable to take the tension any longer. My lips felt awkward as the question passed over them.
He pulled the envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to me. He motioned for me to open it. It took a few tries for my shaking fingers to pluck the paper out.
