Becoming Faith

by Joy Eileen

  “I’ll talk to Lissa tomorrow about what we want to keep private,” D told Jet, trying to placate him.

  Chapter 10

  “She’s alive,” Jet yelled.

  I winced at the noise, but couldn’t do too much more, since it was taking all of my strength to get downstairs without falling.

  Kill ran to my side and helped me move to the kitchen table, where I snuggled on his lap.

  “Those little boogers did a number on you,” Amy said, getting up and pouring me a cup of coffee.

  I accepted the steaming cup with some apprehension.

  The morning after we got home from playing with the kids I caught a nasty virus. With all the late nights waiting for Kill to get home from the studio and pouring over my book, my immune system was officially shot. The germs swarming those little darlings must have seen a weakness and they attacked without remorse.

  I’d been in bed three days—well, unless I was running for the toilet—with a fever and chills. The boys wrangled Kill out the door every morning in order to get him in the studio, or whatever Lissa had scheduled.

  “They did. Next time we go I’m taking vitamin C and loading up on hand sanitizer,” I griped, sipping my coffee. The warm liquid circulated through me and I relished the feeling.

  “I’ll stock you up. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to go again,” Jet replied before taking a big bite of toast with jelly piled on top of it.

  “Of course I want to go again. I was serious when I told you how much fun I had. I just need to be more prepared, that’s all.”

  The worry seemed to slide off Jet. His shoulders and face relaxed at my words. It struck me just how important helping less fortunate children was to him. Even in Portland, he would go on excitedly about how well his side business, tutoring kids, was going. It wasn’t until I saw him one-on-one at the music club that I realized just how important it was to him. The fear he was expressing was evident on his face. Afraid I wouldn’t want to go back and help.

  “Jet, while I was under the influence of many cold and flu drugs, I started thinking of ideas we could do for the outreach program when we get back to Portland,” I explained, wanting to ease any more doubt he had.

  “I have some ideas too,” D chimed in, looking up from his notebook.

  “What kind of ideas?” Jet asked, shifting in his seat so he could see all of us.

  “Well, I was thinking once we get the music portion set up, maybe we could add other talents.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?” Jet said, a huge smile on his face.

  “Maybe I could start a creative writing class. Help kids learn the ins and outs of self-publishing. Get some use out of my literature degree. There are a ton of indie writers in Portland who I’m sure would be happy to donate their time.”

  “I could help kids with computers. I’ve been learning a lot about coding and such doing all the graphic designs for the websites. I’ve also taken a couple online classes,” Amy added, bouncing in her chair eating a licorice stick.

  “I was thinking we could get in touch with some of the bands we’ve made connections with. Have them drop in and play music with the kids,” D said, getting into the excitement.

  “I have the perfect place to start it. We may need to get a bigger space later if we want to expand later. There’s an abandoned building that would have the perfect acoustics,” Kill said, finishing off his protein drink.

  “I was thinking about that same building. It’s the one we looked at when we were going to try and do our own music video, right?” Van asked.

  “I remember the building you’re talking about. That would be perfect,” Jet agreed, snagging a licorice from Amy.

  “I’ll have some people look into it and see who owns it,” Kill answered, hugging me tightly to him.

  “Shit, Lissa’s going to be here in thirty minutes. We need to get ready. We have a television interview soon,” D said, checking his phone.

  “Do you feel up to going?” Kill asked, kissing my temple.

  Warmth surged through me, and it had nothing to do with the fever I’d been fighting. “I do. I need to take a shower and get ready. Do you want to help me?” I whispered in his ear.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” Kill answered, still holding on to me.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, forgetting how much I loved him carrying me upstairs.

  “Thirty minutes,” D reiterated as we bound upstairs.

  “We’ll be down,” Kill yelled back before slamming the door to our room.

  Kill helped me peel off my jammies. His heated stare took in my naked flesh. “We don’t have long, but I promise to make it up to you later.” His hand gripped mine, leading me to the shower.

  The hot water and Kill’s warm touch sent shivers down my body. His calloused hands slid over me, washing away the sickness. Electrical pulses shook me to the bone as I pressed closer to him. He braced my hands on the shower wall and pushed inside of me. A cry of pure pleasure ripped past my lips. The sound of bliss ricocheted off the walls, bouncing off my skin and awakening every nerve ending as it embraced Kill’s heavy thrusts. It had only been three days, but it felt like eternity. I was finally home.

  “I missed you so much.” Kill’s words were harsh. His breathing became labored. The warmth of his lips connected with my spine, and he kissed and nibbled over it while continuing to push me to the brink.

  I pushed back into his movements, wanting to feel every inch of him. His teeth sank into my shoulder while his expert finger circled my swollen bundle of nerves. The sensation was too much to handle. It tripped me over the edge, and I bucked under him. A tidal wave of sensations washed over me, starting from the tips of my toes and not ending until my scalp tingled. Kill sank his teeth harder into my shoulder, grabbing my hips and pumping inside of me. He stiffened and called out my name.

  “Did I tell you how much I missed you?” he asked, his palms caressing my back, sending aftershocks through every nerve ending.

  “I think so.” I giggled, feeling better than I had in days.

  “You don’t have much time to get ready. That was my fault.” He gave me a masculine grin. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” His face took on a pleading look.

  “No, I’ve been stuck inside this house too long. Let me put on some jeans and a T-shirt and throw my hair up.”

  “I was hoping you were going to say that.” His pleading look morphed into his panty-melting grin.

  Exactly thirty five minutes later, Kill and I were downstairs gathered with the rest of the band. My skin was desperate to feel the sun after being inside so long. Just the thought of getting out put me in a great mood.

  “Faith, I’m glad you’re feeling better. Are you coming along with us today?” Lissa asked while we walked toward the van. Her comment almost contained a hint of sincerity.

  “Thank you. I am.”

  “Great, meet you guys there,” Lissa said, climbing in her red beamer.

  “What the hell was that about?” I asked as Gunther pulled out of the driveway.

  “It seems we have become quite the it couple, and Lissa’s starting to embrace you,” Kill answered.

  “Bullshit, you two are the it couple. The U-Tuber video of you guys singing at the kids club went viral. People began searching for more of Kill and Faith. There are tons of videos people uploaded from your performances at Ray’s and The Note. So now they are kind of obsessed with you. Kilth or Faitill. I’m not sure which couple name I like yet,” Jet explained.

  “Really?” My brain had millions of questions running around inside of it, but Jet’s explanation left me dumbfounded.

  I knew people recorded the boys onstage all the time. It shouldn’t have been a surprise there was footage of me with them. In all the time I’d been singing with the boys I never thought to search for them, or me for that matter.

  “Yep, the Valentine’s shout-out and everything else is all online. The one where Kill announced you two were a couple has
the most hits,” Amy added, turning her phone around to show me the hundreds of videos posted of Kill and me.

  A lot of them were the same video just shot by different people, but the number of tiny thumbnails featuring us was staggering.

  “Lissa hasn’t stopped asking about you and how you’re feeling. I think she sees this as good publicity and wants to hit it while it’s hot,” D added when we pulled up to the TV station.

  “She’s just trying to make the band as popular as she can. She’s doing her job.” Van’s shoulders bunched in frustration while he justified her actions.

  “Okay, what the hell’s up with you and Lissa?” D asked, slamming his notebook shut and making no move to leave without an answer.

  “It’s nothing,” Van grumbled, getting out of the vehicle and walking toward Lissa, who was already waiting by the door.

  “He’s making another mistake. I can feel it in my bones. And you know how my bones are always right,” Jet said, making Amy giggle and the rest of us roll our eyes.

  “Let him be. He’s figuring some stuff out right now. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it,” Kill said, shooting Jet a serious look.

  “But she’s not the girl for him,” Jet whined.

  “There isn’t just one girl out there for us,” D interjected with an annoyed breath.

  “You know, I can’t wait for Van to figure his shit out, but I think I’m going to enjoy watching you fall in love the most.” Jet pinched D on the cheek before skipping off toward Van and Lissa.

  When we entered the station, the boys were whisked away to makeup and sound check. Amy and I were led to the green room so we could watch them on a big screen TV mounted on the wall.

  “I’m never going to get used to this. I’m nervous, excited, and proud at the same time,” I told Amy when the host announced the JackholeS were there.

  Because I had been sick and in my own little world trying to survive, I didn’t know what show we were driving to. When we walked into the green room and I noticed it was a taping for a popular late night talk show, my emotions ran rampant and ratcheted up higher.

  “This is so exciting. They’re going to be on national television,” Amy squealed, rummaging through the baskets on the side counter, searching for candy.

  She threw me a piece of chocolate and sat down just as the curtain whisked open, revealing the boys already in place with their instruments.

  We screamed along with the audience. They played their first single, looking like the rockstars they were. And now they were on TV. Amy recorded us singing and watching the boys play, uploading it on U-Tuber the second it was over and linking it to their social media.

  “They’re going to eat this up,” she said, rubbing her hands together. We watched the video start to get hits immediately.

  The boys came in, sweaty and amped up.

  Kill lifted me up and twirled me around, his smile broad on his face. “We were on TV. Did you see the audience? Most of them sang along.” He placed me back on the ground, beaming, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “Amy recorded it.” I pulled my phone out so I could show him.

  “You’re a genius,” D told Amy, watching over our shoulders.

  “Hell yeah, she is.” Jet kissed her on the cheek, pride written all over his face.

  Lissa walked in just as we finished watching the video. “That was really smart putting it online,” she said, but her face showed the complete opposite.

  Jet opened his mouth, but Amy smacked her hand over it. “Thank you. I was excited to see them on TV and wanted to share it with their fans. They respond more when I let them into the activities of what the boys are doing.”

  Lissa gave a tight smile. “Yes, I’m sure your little website business received a huge boost when people realized you were working with the JackholeS.”

  “It sure did.” Amy beamed, giving her a big smile. She removed her hand from Jet, but not before shooting him a warning glance. Amy’s confidence showed Lissa her little insinuation didn’t bother her in the slightest.

  “Let’s go get some food,” Van cut in.

  “Yes, I have reservations. The label will be there, since you missed them on your single release. Gunther has the directions. I’ll see you there.” Lissa gave a short nod and walked away.

  “She’s not worth it,” Amy told Jet before he could argue with her.

  “But—” Jet said while his face kept turning toward the empty doorway.

  “Stop, let’s go celebrate. I’m fine.” Amy kissed Jet, ending his counterargument.

  When his hand grabbed her ass and hauled her to him, the rest of us made our way out of the room to give them privacy and save our eyes.

  “I hope we don’t have to do that again for a long time,” Jet grumbled.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” D replied when Gunther pulled away from the restaurant.

  All eyes landed on D, and he gave us a small smile. “Okay, it was pretty bad, but believe me it could have been worse. I’ve had to schmooze with these people a lot more than you guys have. We did our part. We won’t have to do that for another couple of weeks. When our next single hits.” D rubbed the spot in between his eyes, letting us know the dinner got to him just as much as the rest of us.

  It wasn’t as if anyone was rude, or treated the boys badly. It was the atmosphere. The label was just that, the label. They saw the boys as a bottom line. A big payday. And the dinner made that very apparent. The label reps knew nothing about the music the boys played, while they kissed their asses all through dinner.

  Lissa fit right into their group, yet another reason she would never understand our dynamic. She was just like them. The bottom line was her priority.

  “Oh my God,” Amy screamed frantically, waiving her phone around.

  Gunther glanced up in the rearview mirror before continuing driving.

  Kill grabbed the phone from her and looked at the screen. His dimples indented on his stubbled cheek as he nonchalantly scrolled up on Amy’s phone.

  “What?” D said, trying to snatch the phone from Kill. Kill was too fast and moved it away, but Van yanked it from Kill and started laughing.

  “It seems that our little Faithy and Killian are truly the it couple,” Van answered, giving the phone to me.

  My mouth dropped open. There were over a hundred websites and blogs solely focused on our relationship. Pictures of Kill and me were splashed everywhere. Comments from people claiming to know us personally filled the comment section on every article.

  “They love you guys,” D said, looking at his phone.

  “We are the it couple, Slick.” Kill grinned, winking at me.

  “Can we please stop using the term it couple?” I groaned.

  My face heated up while I scrolled through article after article about us. I hadn’t got through the majority of them by the time we reached the house. I handed Amy her phone back, my head in a daze. It was surreal to see Kill and me plastered everywhere. Reading the speculation of our life was insane.

  As soon as we got home we headed straight to our room. I curled against Kill when we got into bed. Even though I felt a hundred times better, I was still weak from fighting the germ fight of the century.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” I answered with a yawn. “I guess I still don’t have my strength back from being sick.”

  Kill’s hand rubbed up and down my back, his thumbs finding knots and working them out until they submitted. My muscles went to liquid, and I was suspended in between dreaming and wakefulness.

  Kill’s phone rang. He reached over to answer it while his other hand continued to annihilate a particularly nasty knot.

  “Hello.” His voice was low, bringing me even closer to sleep. “Yes, this is Kill.”

  Kill’s body stiffened as the person on the other end spoke. The sound was muffled, and I wasn’t able to understand what they were saying. But I was pretty sure whoever it was on the other end was female.

&nbs
p; “Hold on,” Kill replied. He moved me off him.

  I reached for him, not wanting him to go.

  He kissed my forehead before whispering, “I’ll be right back.”

  My mind made a small attempt to wake up when Kill left the room. I drifted off into a deep sleep when Kill climbed back into bed and pulled me to him. His body was strung tight beneath me.

  “Are you okay?” I mumbled, rubbing my butt against him. I felt him relax as he hardened against me.

  “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to wake you.” His lips brushed over my temple after he let out a breathy sigh.

  I lifted my leg over his hip to give him access. Kill’s shaft guided into me. My brain scrambled with every thrust. When sated, Kill stayed locked inside of me, our damp skin holding us together.

  “Who was on the phone?” I sucked in the drool that had almost escaped.

  “It was someone from the label.” He didn’t bother expanding, and I let it go since he didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

  The next morning when I woke, Kill was already out of bed. Unease crept over me. I vaguely recalled Kill getting a mysterious phone call. Frustration at myself for being so out of it that I didn’t ask him for more details heated my blood. I wished I had pushed him to talk.

  Out in the hall shock pushed my worry for Kill out of my mind. I watched Lissa sneak out of Van’s room, appearing freshly showered.

  “What are you doing?” I quietly asked her so I didn’t alert the others.

  “Don’t get judgy with me. He’s a big boy. He knows what he’s doing.”

  “You don’t get it. He has been through some awful relationships lately. You can’t fuck with him. I won’t let you.”

  Lissa rolled her eyes. She pulled her hair back into her signature tight bun. “I was there when he caught Bailey riding Gram like she was in a rodeo, remember? I know he’s been hurt.”

  “Yes, I remember. That isn’t exactly what I’m talking about,” I told her, biting my bottom lip. I cursed my ex-best friend for fucking Van over the way she did.