Breaking Faith (The JackholeS Book 1)

by Joy Eileen

  Jet yelled at D to pay attention, but D’s eyes were trained on my neck, and Van paused the game.

  “Kill got revenge. I accidentally left a bruise when I bit him,” I answered Amy.

  “What the hell did you do that for?” D asked Kill. The hostility in his voice made me flinch.

  “It isn’t a big deal. It will go away soon enough. Don’t be mad at Kill, I started it.”

  “Well, that was stupid,” D said, throwing down his controller and getting up off the couch, done with the game.

  Van tried to stop him, but D shrugged him off. He stopped in front of me and inspected the red area.

  “Back off, D,” Kill growled, and D looked over at him, his eyes burning with anger.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I said, putting my hand on D’s arm, getting his attention, not wanting this to escalate even further.

  “I don’t like seeing marks on your body; it reminds me of what you looked like when you came to us.” His face was sad, and I felt unexplained anger shimmer up my spine. How long would I be that girl, the one who allowed her ex to use her as punching bag?

  “It's nothing like that,” I responded, more harshly than I meant to.

  Kill bounded off the couch, noticing the change in my demeanor. “What did you say to her?” Kill asked, wrapping his arms around me.

  When I saw D’s stricken face I pulled away, but not completely, needing Kill's comfort more than I wanted to admit.

  “It’s ok, D. I understand. Thank you for being such a good friend.” He gave me an awkward one arm hug since I was still partially in Kill's grasp.

  “No problem, Faith. I'm here for you.”

  “We have practice in ten minutes,” Van said, looking between Kill and D to see if they would object.

  “Ok, I just need to get something out of my room.” D ran upstairs not looking back.

  I stepped back into Kill's embrace, knowing it was weak, but not caring.

  “Are you ok, Faith?” Van asked.

  I nodded my head.

  “What the fuck's happening between you and D, Kill? You looked like you were going to rip each other’s heads off,” Jet said.

  “He's afraid I'm going to hurt Faith, and I think he just wants to protect her,” Kill replied, pulling me even tighter.

  Van’s eyebrow quirked up, doing some weird boy telepathy with Kill I couldn’t hear.

  “Are you going to hurt Faith?” Jet asked with a perplexed expression, because he couldn’t hear the silent conversation happening between Van and Kill either.

  “No, Jet, I'm not going to hurt her,” Kill answered through clenched teeth.

  “What’s going on between you two?” Van asked, finally ending his silent conversation.

  “It’s nobody’s fucking business,” Kill growled

  “Well, Faith's our business because we'll kick anyone’s ass that fucks with her, even yours.” Even though Van's words were harsh, he smiled like he was just let in on a secret.

  “Enough. Are we ready for practice?” Jet asked, sick of not having any attention focused on him.

  “Yep,” Kill said, leading me toward the garage, not waiting for the rest of the band.

  D was the last to file in. We ran through my three songs, working a little longer on the one that would be debuted tonight. When my part was done, I decided to leave and let them have some quality band time, opting to start dinner.

  With everything in the oven I ran upstairs, thinking this would be the perfect time to call my dad. I had a text waiting for me, and my stomach lurched as I rushed to my bottle of Tums.

  I left you something, go

  check your car.

  ALONE.

  Jason knew my car was my pride and joy, and if he messed with it, I would be devastated. Walking slowly downstairs, I held onto the railing, not trusting my legs. I seized the doorknob, afraid to turn the handle and see what was waiting for me on the other side. If he did something to my car, I would let the boys have full access to him.

  Opening the door, I cried out in relief when I saw my car parked prettily by the curb with no visible damage. I sprinted toward her, checking her over, making sure all of the tires were intact and there weren’t any scratches or dents.

  The piece of paper under my windshield wipers went unnoticed until I was fully convinced there wasn’t any damage. My stomach rolled, causing the boulder to sway back and forth. I snatched the paper and began to unfold it but stopped, wondering if he was watching me.

  Returning to the house I held my head up high, not wanting him to see how affected I was by his new tactic if he was still lurking about. In my room I locked the door, knowing the boys were going to be wrapping up soon, and I needed to get myself together. I unfolded Jason's new means of ruining my life.

  You were always meant to be mine.

  I will wait for you to be done with

  whatever this little rebellion is you

  have going on, but don’t make me

  wait too long for you, Faith, my

  patience has started to wear thin.

  You are a good girl, and I will be

  with you, you are mine.

  As I read it, my anger rose. He was fucking delusional if he thought I would come back to my senses and return to him. I couldn’t show this to Kill, because in some bizarre way this would solidify his fear of me returning to Jason.

  Shoving the note into the bottom of my t-shirt drawer, I slammed it harder than I needed to, with a new conviction that I would prove them both wrong.

  They jumped on dinner like ravenous animals as soon as they exited the garage. I poked at my food. Kill watched me walk out of the kitchen after depositing my plate in the dishwasher. I planned to play off my sour mood by explaining I was nervous about the new song.

  I went into my room, avoiding the dresser drawer. The note mocked me as I tried to figure out what to do. I wondered if I should go to the police, but figured they would consider it circumstantial, and with my last encounter, I really didn't have much confidence in them.

  I chucked a handful of Tums in my mouth as I headed to the bathroom. The spot on my neck remained cover-up free, because in some sick way I liked that Kill claimed some portion of me. Pathetic, table for one.

  Kill sat on the toilet, watching as I curled my hair.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, when I was done with my hair.

  I bent over the sink to get a better look as I applied my eyeliner, taking more care than I normally did so I didn’t have to look him in the eye.

  “What's going on with you, Slick?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He sighed and placed his elbows on his knees, running his fingers through his hair. I was purposely being obtuse, and I felt bad because it wasn't his fault.

  “You barely ate anything and your face is paler than normal. Explain.”

  I cursed myself for never investing more money in makeup so I would have more to do. I leaned on the wall behind me so I could look at him.

  “Nothing's up with me. I'm fine, except I’m a little nervous about tonight’s performance. The high note is really high.”

  He knew I was lying, and I held my breath, waiting for him to call me out on it.

  “The high note's nothing and you know it. Tell me what's going on with you.”

  I smiled sadly, loving he called me out on my shit, even though I wished he wouldn’t.

  “Jason contacted me today, and I was upset he still hasn’t given up.”

  His jaw twitched, and his eyes were fierce with anger. “What did he say? Where's your phone?”

  I went over to him, so he couldn’t get up without running me over. “I erased it after I read it. It was the same old stuff he's been saying since we've been together. It just got to me today, that’s all.”

  His eyes flashed with fury, and he stood so we were inches apart. “Why are you erasing those? You're removing any proof he's still contacting you and going against the restraining order.”

  H
is jaw twitched furiously, his dimples appearing and disappearing quickly. My anger rose along with his. I was frustrated from today’s events, and seeing a proper outlet for venting, I gave it to him.

  “I erased it because it came from a blocked number like normal, and I was angry he's still trying to have some say in my life. I'm so sorry I don’t want to keep that shit on my phone. Please forgive me, next time I want to remove something off my phone, I'll be sure to ask you first.”

  I was on my tip toes so I could be closer to his face.

  “Fuck, why can’t you let anyone help you? I just want to help you. We're friends, remember?"

  His face was bright red, and he was bent toward me just as much as I was, our noses were almost touching. I opened my mouth to yell right back at him, but my stomach decided this was the perfect time to twinge, and I winced, wrapping my arms around myself.

  The anger on Kill’s face vanished, and he pulled me tightly into his body, rubbing my back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was being stupid, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “I wasn’t scared of you. I'm just so sick of everyone feeling like they need to protect me. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself,” I said, muffled into his t-shirt.

  “Well, you're going to have to get used to it. When we love someone, we take care of them, and you're a part of our family and our band. Can we please stop having this conversation? It's getting old.”

  He was right, and I needed to get over my hang ups about accepting help. It was harder than I expected, knowing anyone I decided to trust had the ability to let me down.

  “You're right,” I said into his shirt, not wanting to move from his embrace.

  “I'm always right. You just haven’t figured it out yet. Let us help you. You're stuck with us,” he said releasing me.

  “I feel sorry for you guys because you're stuck with me.”

  He made a face feigning horror. “Oh, geez, you’re right. We totally got the bad end of the stick.”

  I pushed him, and he pretended to fall over, making me roll my eyes. “I have to go. I can’t be late for work. I'm sorry I erased it, but it was a silly text message, and honestly the more he contacts me, the more likely he is to get caught and blow his cover.”

  His jaw was so tight I worried about his back teeth. I wrapped my arms around his waist. His body was rigid, so I hugged him tighter until I finally felt him relax.

  “We just worry about you, that’s all.”

  “Well, I appreciate you guys worry about me, but it's uncalled for. And I'm not part of the band,” I said, wanting to get this straight.

  “Ok, you have songs you sing with us, you practice with us, and you get onstage with us. What the hell was I thinking, saying you're a part of the band?”

  I smiled at his sarcasm and bit him lightly on his rock-hard pec. He tensed up, and I wondered if I bit him harder than I thought, but when he shifted his lower body away from mine so he could hide his reaction, I realized what my teeth did.

  “Get ready for work; you don’t want to be late.”

  We went into my room, and he sat on my bed as I grabbed everything I needed.

  “Why's my pillow on your side of the bed?” he asked.

  “How do you know which one's your pillow?” I asked, buying time as I thought of a plausible excuse, my face flooding red from his discovery.

  “Because it doesn’t smell like you,” he said, throwing the wrong pillow back to his side and laying back down on the one I used.

  “Well, if you think about it, I really don’t use a pillow since you have started sleeping over,” I said, cocking an eyebrow at him, hoping to get out of this with some dignity.

  He grinned at me and plumped the pillow higher under his head. “I like to take naps on the pillow that smells like you. Since I don’t get your snoring it's a consolation prize.”

  “You take naps in here?” I asked, floored he lounged around in here without me.

  “Sometimes, not very often,” he answered, not meeting my eyes, and if I didn’t know better I would think he was embarrassed.

  “Why don’t you sleep in your room?” I asked.

  He just shrugged his shoulders. I noticed it was time for me to go.

  “See you later, Killer,” I called out walking out of my room, but instead of staying put, he followed me down.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, as we got to the bottom of the steps. I waved goodbye to the guys and Amy as we headed toward the door.

  “Walking you to your car,” he answered, putting his arm around me.

  “You don’t have to walk me to my car.” I said, scanning my windshield quickly to make sure there wasn’t anything there.

  “What are you looking for?"

  “Nothing, I was just love my car,” I said, guilt eating away at my stomach as my head screamed I was a horrible liar.

  “See you later, unless you want me to drive you?” he asked, and the hopeful look on his face made me want to take him up on the offer.

  “No, I'm fine, go take a nap on my pillow and I'll see you tonight.”

  His face dropped, and he didn’t do anything to hide it. “See you tonight.” He kissed my forehead. I reveled in the tingling sensation his lips left on my skin.

  “See you later, Killer.”

  Chapter 27

  On the drive to work, I fished out my Tums, pleading with my stomach to behave.

  The rumor mill was on high as people tried to guess what my relationship to Kill was. The speculation was downright disturbing. Jet came in later doing his normal entrance.

  While they made their way to the table, I grabbed the pre-made tray and delivered it before they reached their table, so I could avoid Kill a while bit longer.

  I wasn’t sure why I was avoiding him. I was becoming increasingly dependent on Kill, which terrified me.

  My depending on people didn't happen very often because they either left like my mother, or they hurt me like Jason. As I delivered a tray of appletini’s and cheese fries, I felt Kill’s presence behind me. The electric current between us never seemed to diminish.

  “Hey Slick.”

  I turned around to see him staring at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. My heart flipped his face was so unsure.

  “Hey.”

  It was my fault things were awkward between us. He'd laid it all out for me; it was me holding us back. He wanted me to trust him completely, and I wasn't sure I would ever be able to give him that.

  His face lightened when I smiled, and I wanted to kick myself in the ass for doing this to him. I was just as bad as Jessie.

  “People are wondering how long I'm going to let you work here. You know, since you're pregnant with our love child.”

  I noticed the people nearest us watched us intently.

  “The sad thing is, that isn't the worst one I've heard tonight,” I replied amused.

  “Oh, I know, but it's my favorite one,” he said, winking at me before walking away, as I stared at him with my mouth hanging open.

  “Oh my God, you're pregnant,” the lady closest to me whispered loudly.

  “Nope, sorry guys,” I said, turning around and walking back to the bar.

  “Don’t worry, honey, we won’t tell anyone," the lady that was supposed to keep my secret loudly drunk whispered.

  “What was that all about?” Denise asked, her honey eyes curious.

  “They think I'm having Kill’s baby,” I said with disgust in my voice, trying to hide the hurt.

  When Kill said me having his baby was his favorite rumor, for a split second I was excited, before reality crashed down. If we ever moved forward from this friendship to something more it would never happen.

  “Is that such a bad thing?” Denise asked, confused at the vehemence evident in my voice.

  I opened my mouth, then shut it, not wanting to confess anything. Denise patted me on the shoulder as we finally made it to the bar.

  “What the hell's on y
our neck?” Ryan asked when she saw me.

  I swatted my neck like a cracked out ninja, trying to get whatever the hell had made Ryan’s face look that horrified, off immediately. Denise caught my swatting hands and held them firmly in hers.

  “The hickey,” she said, letting go of my hands so she could point at the spot which held everyone’s attention. Ryan leaned further across the bar to get a good look at it.

  “It’s not a hickey,” I hissed, giving the people at the bar my best evil eye so they would mind their fucking business.

  “What are you talking about?” Jessie came over, giving Ryan her orders even though Ryan made no attempt to start filling them.

  “Faith’s hickey,” Ryan replied.

  “It's not a hickey,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I'll explain later. Let’s just get this last order out before the boys are done setting up.”

  Ryan and Jessie glared at me, making sure I was not trying to get out of my duty to dish. Denise patted me on the shoulder but helped me out. “Come on girls, let's finish this up so we can get the dirt.”

  This spurred Ryan into action, and she made all of our orders and screamed at poor Dax in the kitchen. We set off to deliver our orders. I moved back to the bar slowly, not wanting to relay the events of how the non-hickey was formed.

  “So?” Ryan said, when I didn’t launch into the details right away.

  I was positive the stories they'd conjured in their heads were going to be a lot saucier than the real one, because there was no way in hell I was going to tell them exactly how Kill felt on top of me; sucking, licking, and biting, while he placed the damn thing on my neck.

  “It’s not a hickey,” I reiterated, and Jessie moved her hand like she was trying to hurry me up. “It's more of a revenge mark,” I explained, making Ryan’s and Denise’s eyes light up.

  “That sounds hot. Who gave it to you?” Ryan asked, making me laugh at her eagerness.

  “After our run, Kill gave me a piggy back ride into the house.”

  “Oh yeah, Kill all sweaty,” Ryan said, and Denise fanned herself.

  “Kill gave that to you?” Jessie screeched, eyeing the stage as he thanked the crowd.