Breaking Faith (The JackholeS Book 1)

by Joy Eileen

  Van was the first one to walk out of the kitchen. He gave me an awkward look before sitting down. I quirked my eyebrow as he stared at his full plate. D came in, sitting on the floor further away from us. Kill strode in next and sat by me. He didn’t leave much room between us, causing my body to ignite.

  Jet swore in the kitchen. “Shit, this is fucking awesome. Holy shit, I'll never doubt you again, Faith.”

  I grinned into my soda. With the jester’s endorsement, the others dug in, making grunts of satisfaction.

  Jet walked in with spaghetti sauce on his face and a plateful of food. We watched a show where people commented on various clips of idiots performing random acts of stupidity.

  The door opened, and Jessie yelled out in her southern accent. “Is anybody here?”

  “We're in here, babe. Get a plate, and get your sexy ass over here,” Van replied, chuckling as some nimrod got a bar to the nuts.

  Jessie walked in with a smaller plate, snuggling next to Van.

  “Why are you all sexed up?” I asked.

  She turned a light shade of red, and I was impressed by how well she kept her blush in check. “I'm going to watch the boys play tonight. Do you want to go?”

  She sounded hopeful, and since I felt better, I agreed.

  Kill nudged me with his knee. "Are you sure you’re up for it, Slick?”

  “Yep, I’m much better.”

  I got up, putting the small amount of leftovers away. Jessie tried to take Van’s plate, but he shoo’d her away, taking hers instead. Seeing my chance to get Jessie alone, I caught her eye. “Jess, why don’t you come upstairs with me while I get ready.”

  “I want to watch, please, I promise to be good,” Jet pleaded puppy dog eyes in place. D smacked him on the back of the head.

  Jessie gave a longing look toward the kitchen where Van had disappeared. Feeling like I was about to get the brush off, I looked pointedly at her. “Trent called me today."

  Her eyes snapped back to mine. She tried to read my face to find out what transpired. Kill's attention was focused on me. I didn't pay attention to him.

  “What did he want?” he asked, refusing to be overlooked.

  I kept my eyes on Jessie when he asked. Jessie gave me a questioning look, and I nodded my head toward the stairs. She nodded back, walking past me to tell Van where she was going.

  When I reached my door, I heard heavy footsteps behind me. I stopped and waited for Kill. When he reached the top his face was hard, and his eyes burned holes through me.

  “What did he say?” He brushed his finger down my cheek causing me to shiver. The gentle touch of his finger, and the burning emotions in his eyes turned my body into a hectic myriad of feelings.

  I glanced over at the stairs, knowing Jessie would be up soon. He followed my gaze but focused back on me.

  “Friends tell each other stuff like this, and didn’t you want to be friends?” Challenge was written all over his face, waiting to see if I would push him away from the role I had forced him into.

  “He wanted me to give him a chance to fill Jason’s vacated spot.”

  His jaw went tight and the ticking started. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him I would never see him as anything but a friend.”

  His tick quickened when I mention the word friend. He had to know my reasons for friending him were incomparable to the reason I had put Trent in the friend status.

  “He didn’t like the idea of being friends and tried to convince me he was in love with me, and we would be amazing together. After turning him down, he called me some ugly names, and after enduring his abuse, then apologies, followed by more abuse, I hung up.”

  The anger pulsing in his eyes made him look deadly. Just then Jessie walked upstairs, her lips plump from her encounter with Van. She took my hand, and pulled me into my room, shutting the door in Kill’s face. We flopped down on my bed.

  “So, that was intense,” she said, turning on her side to face me.

  Kill made me feel off-kilter, and I didn’t know how I felt when it came to anything related to him. He made me so hot I short circuited when he was around, unable to get a true reading on my emotions.

  “It looked like you two were about to have angry sex right there in the hallway.”

  “I told him I didn’t want to have sex with him,” I explained, deciding if I couldn’t get my mind to help me out, maybe my best friend could. I hoped she could shed some light on what I was getting myself into, or should I say, keeping myself out of.

  “Did you say it like that? Because if you did and he's still looking at you like you're a prime piece of meat, you may not have gotten through to him.”

  The damn girl was Texas through and through, always using meat as her way of putting value on things.

  “I kind of did tell him like that. He was teasing me like normal, and I just blurted out I couldn’t sleep with him. Then I told him I just wanted to be friends.”

  “You asked a boy that oozes sex from every pore in his body to be friends?” Her voice raised, and I shushed her.

  “How long did he laugh at you?”

  My cheeks flooded red at her assumption he would scoff at my request. “Actually, he agreed.” I picked at the blanket on my bed.

  She exhaled sharply at my confession. “Wow, I didn’t expect someone like him to agree to something like that.”

  “Well, look at who you're dating, he's bald with tattoos all over his arms, which are bigger than most people’s thighs,” I responded, wanting to defend Kill’s agreement.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I'm the last person to judge anyone. It's just Kill goes through women like most people go through water, and it surprised me. He probably agreed because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I shouldn’t be surprised, you're awesome. Any relationship you give someone is a blessing.”

  “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

  “So did you explain why you weren’t going to have sex with him?” she asked, her eyes greedy for the low down.

  “I told him I couldn’t be some girl that warms his sheets for the night, and he is becoming someone I depend on as a friend and I didn't want to jeopardize our relationship."

  She nodded her head, listening intently. I let her think for awhile, hoping she would have some clarity on the enigma that was Kill. I got antsy when she didn’t answer right away.

  “Well?” I asked, exasperated.

  “We've all heard about the JackholeS, and the notorious man-whore lead singer. He does seem different with you, and that worries me. I'm afraid since he has never had to chase a woman before, he sees you as a challenge. You need to heal before you put yourself out there, and you'll know when it's time, but I don’t think Kill's the right one for you. I'm proud you held your ground against his charm. Ok, now spill on Trent. I know I just blew your mind with my wisdom, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself by trying to wrap your mind around my astuteness.”

  I snorted, before giving her the details of the conversation I had with Trent. She was livid, and I had to wrestle her phone away so she wouldn’t call him and rip him a new one. Once I got her calmed down, I made the mistake of sticking up for him.

  Explaining he felt like I was breaking his heart, and he was just lashing out at me. After saying this, I received one of her famous lectures on how I didn’t make him lash out at me with hurtful words, it was his decision to do so, and I needed to stop giving people a way out by taking blame that was rightfully theirs.

  Van knocked on the door and came in after we called out it was safe. “Hey, baby, we have to leave soon.”

  Jessie threw her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. I looked away as they played with the back of each other’s throats.

  Hearing a throat clear I looked up to see Kill. His anger had receded, and he had a playful smile tugging at his lips.

  I wondered briefly what he would do if I walked over to him and kissed him like Jessie was doing with Van. My cheeks flamed red
and his smile turned up, wiggling his eyebrow, as if he read my mind.

  “Alright, get out of my room so I can get ready and get your woman to the show,” I announced, making Van smile as they finally broke apart.

  “Get her there soon, ok?” Van walked by Kill and smiled widely. “Come on man, we're going to have a kick ass show tonight, because three of the hottest girls in Portland will be there cheering us on.”

  Jessie giggled and I looked at her, surprised at her reaction. She flipped me off, causing me to laugh. I loved that my best friend was coming out of her shell, and thankful Van was helping.

  “Hottest in Portland, huh?” Kill asked, as he slowly perused my body from top to bottom, causing little flames to lick over my skin.

  Van looked over at Jessie; his eyes bright with happiness and lust. “You’re right, these girls are the hottest in the world.”

  Jessie blew him a kiss, and he pretended to catch it and put it in his pocket. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the two of them; they were so fucking romantic.

  Kill shrugged off of the door jamb and followed Van out of the room. Jessie went over to my closet to find something suitable for me to wear to her man’s show.

  “Is Amy going to be there?”

  “Yeah, Jet told her I would be there tonight, and it isn’t fair Van’s chick gets to see him in all of his glory when he's so much better.”

  I shook my head and smiled. Those two being together would never get boring, nor would they ever have a sugar shortage.

  Jessie pulled something out and examined it. When she turned around, she was holding the dress I had worn the night of my engagement. Blood rushed to my head.

  “How about this one?” I read Jessie’s lips more than heard her. She saw my face and walked over to me, concerned, putting the dress on my bed before she reached me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I wore that dress the night Jason proposed to me,” I whispered, looking at it. The memories tried to surface, but I pushed them back.

  “Ok, then this is the dress you're wearing tonight.”

  Her face was determined, and I knew there was no arguing with her when she wore that face. “You can’t let him run your life anymore. You escaped him, and I'm so proud of you. That dress is going to look amazing on you, and you need to put a new memory with it. Let’s replace all the bad memories with great ones.”

  My legs felt stilted with every step toward the bed. When I reached it, I touched the material letting my fingers glide over it.

  Jessie had a smile on her face, and I was warming up to the idea of purging the bad memories and replacing them with something better, somehow redeeming the dress and maybe some of myself in the process.

  I put the dress on and fished out a pair of red heels with little black skulls and crossbones across them. Jessie did my hair in big curls, piling them on top of my head, making them look artfully messy.

  She did my makeup, giving my eyes a dramatic edge, and topped it all off with bright red lipstick I would never have been able to put on without coating all of my teeth.

  Jessie talked the whole drive, telling me how perfect Van was as we pulled in to the parking lot of The Note, the bar the boys were playing at. And if I didn’t know any better, I would think she was trying to convince herself.

  Chapter 12

  The Note's atmosphere was different from Ray's. A line wrapped around the building and a smaller version of Catcher guarded the front door.

  “Wow, I wasn’t expecting this,” I told Jessie, taking in the massive crowd.

  “This place has been around forever. Tons of bands have been discovered here. When D got this gig a month ago, the boys were at a restaurant, and Jet went around kissing everybody, and I mean everybody. Van had to haul him out before he got in a fight with a bunch of frat boys that didn’t take his affections kindly.”

  I could picture Jet running around kissing people with the excitement of getting one step closer to his dream.

  We were ushered in when we gave the bouncer our names. Some people yelled at us for cutting, while others stared at us curiously trying to figure out who we were.

  Once inside, I was even more impressed. The stage was raised just enough to keep the boys separated from the crowd, but not too high to make them inaccessible.

  The walls were littered with posters and candid pictures of various bands that had played there; all signed with their appreciation for letting them have the stage.

  I was in awe by the caliber of talent this place had held. There were two bars flanking both sides of the dance floor. The bars were a deep cherry wood that gleamed even in the dim light. The high chairs lining the bar were filled to capacity.

  There were several tables and booths plastered against the wall. The chairs were upholstered in a dark red material, with brass tacks lining the seams.

  As expected, the JackholeS brought in a huge crowd. Unlike Ray’s where the audience consisted of women in tight, skimpy clothing, The Note had a more diverse crowd.

  People seemed genuinely sincere to hear the band, not just throw their panties at the stage hoping to be the lucky bed warmer. Not that the place was skank free. There were many women, that if they bent over, I would have the same view as their gynecologist.

  We walked to the bar to get our drinks. Jessie ordered a Jack and coke, and I got whatever diet drink they had on tap, telling her I would drive home.

  Scoping out an empty table near the stage we waded through the increasing crowd to nab it. We high fived and toasted our accomplishment. A group of catty women walked by, giving us dirty looks as they went by. I smiled and waved as if they were long lost friends. They flipped their hair and stormed off. Jessie and I dissolved in a fit of laughter.

  A tall guy wearing a pair of tight jeans and long sleeves rolled up to his elbows walked toward us. He was cute, but he was trying too hard. His dark blonde hair was styled to make it look messy, but it didn’t have the effortless quality like Kill’s did.

  He smiled, acting like he was going to bestow a great gift by coming over. Tattoos covered his forearms, and even those weren't imaginative. They looked like he walked into a tattoo parlor and randomly picked a bunch of pictures right off the wall.

  Jessie rolled her eyes, making me smile. He mistook my smile as encouragement and tried to look alluring, but instead he looked like a lockjaw victim.

  “Hi, I’m Robert.” Confidence exuded from him, and it boggled my mind at how clueless he was. I was about to tell him Jessie and I were a couple, but Van ran up and threw his arm around her attaching his face to hers.

  “Hi, I’m Faith, and the girl with the two tongues is Jessie, and her boyfriend, Van.” I glared at them as they ignored me. He glanced at the two lovebirds, but set his sights back on me.

  “So, Faith, what does someone as pretty as you do?”

  I was going to answer I taught castration school, but Amy caught my attention. She was carrying an enormous drink. It was in a fishbowl type glass with music notes scattered across it.

  The drink was a shocking blue with maraschino cherries floating near the bottom. It had slices of orange, pineapple, with a pink umbrella floating on the top, the red straws bobbed as she walked.

  “What the hell is that?” Van asked as she set her drink down.

  “It’s called the blue note,” she said proudly.

  “It looks like Smurf pee,” he responded, still looking at the drink.

  Amy scoffed and took a sip. “Faith, you should get a job here, the drinks are way sweeter than at Ray’s. I could totally see you waitressing here.”

  Robert mumbled Ray’s under his breath, catching his answer from Amy. I mentally cussed her out.

  “Who are you?” Amy asked over her drink, eyeing Robert suspiciously.

  “I’m Robert.”

  Van, no longer having his tongue stuck down Jessie’s throat, looked over at Robert with pure intimidation.

  Robert, thinking his uninspired tattoos were his way in, s
tuck out his hand. “Hi, I love your band.”

  Van begrudgingly shook his hand, not wanting to insult a fan. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  Van turned back toward Amy’s drink to give her shit about the dangers of drinking Smurf pee, while dismissing Robert. The guys at the table Robert had been sitting at called him over, as a waitress sat down a round of shots. He squeezed my arm as he tried to look charming.

  “I'll see you later, Faith. Maybe we can dance later.” His gait was full of confidence, unaware he wasn't even close to pulling off the person he was pretending to be.

  “Tool,” Kill muttered walking up just as Robert left. “Slick, as your friend I have to say you have an uncanny knack for attracting the biggest poseurs, douche bags, and tools. You're like a beacon.”

  I turned to give him a piece of my mind, but stopped when his eyes went wide.

  “Holy fuck, what're you wearing?” he asked breathless.

  I glanced down to the dress I was banishing memories from. “Why, you don’t like it?” I asked coyly.

  Kill looked up to the ceiling as if he was praying for patience. “You know you look fucking hot. It's like you added an extra strength light bulb to your douche beacon. Every douche for miles will be lined up,” he said through gritted teeth, looking around the bar in search of the invisible line.

  I laughed at the pained look on his face. Jet, and D walked up, thankfully ending the conversation. Jet moved the straws out of Amy's blue note and took a drink.

  “What the hell is that?” D asked, his reaction so much like Van’s I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “That’s some yummy shit,” Jet answered, before taking another drink.

  “Jet, you know you're drinking something that looks like Smurf pee, right?” Van asked trying to get his point across, that ingesting anything blue wasn't natural.

  “Dude, I have drank a lot worse than Smurf pee, believe me.”

  Jessie and I cringed, hoping he didn’t clarify what that stuff would be. Everyone else cracked up, and I was glad the subject had changed from my attracting the worst of the worst.