Breaking Faith (The JackholeS Book 1)

by Joy Eileen

  Kill moved like he was going over to them and Van shifted, ready to follow, but I held Kill in place. His cheeks twitched from the pressure of clenching his jaw.

  “They're not worth it; I don’t give a shit what they're saying about me. Go get ready for the show, and I'll meet you up there soon.”

  Kill shot them a death glare, in fact the whole table was giving them a similar look, even little Amy glared at them over her fish bowl. He put his hands on my shoulders and kneaded them gently. I leaned into his touch, craving it like a drug, and too weak to refuse a free hit.

  Not as many girls came over to offer themselves as sacrificial lambs as they had at Ray’s, and I was relieved I didn’t have to deal with them.

  I sat back with a grin just as enraptured with Kill as the rest of the place. Kill introduced me after he sang 'Gotta Have Faith.'

  I waved to the insane crowd, laughing at some of the things they were willing to say, and do, to get the band's attention. When the song was over, the fans were on the verge of pandemonium, and I received some marriage proposals from men and women in the crowd.

  We made our way to the table with Kill and Van in front, muscling most of the people back, but also trying to give them the respect they deserved for being such loyal fans.

  Once we made it to the table, the drinks I stole out of Amy’s fish bowl were pressing down on my bladder. I excused myself and went to the bathroom, figuring my bladder would be pushed to the breaking point waiting in the long line.

  As I suspected, the line was down the hallway, so I settled in behind some drunk girls that appeared they were going to do some experimenting with their sexuality later. They kept touching and complimenting each other.

  I turned my head to people watch, trying to give the experimenters some privacy. One of the guys at Robert’s table spotted me as he came out of the men’s bathroom, with the non-existent line, I might add.

  I glanced away and noticed the two girls in front of me weren’t waiting until later, and had their tongues stuck down one another's throats. I tried not to stare, afraid I'd look like a freak voyeur watching two people get down in public.

  There was a tap on my shoulder. Robert’s friend was now standing next to me, I realized my luck was not going well tonight, and I worried what that meant for my straining bladder.

  He became distracted by the two girls, who were now dry humping against the wall. A gap had formed in front of them, and I tapped on their shoulders to tell them to move ahead.

  One of the girls turned her head and glared at me, so I just stepped around them, crossing my legs together, about to do the potty dance. Smarmy guy broke his gaze from the two girls and followed me, glancing back to make sure they hadn’t progressed.

  “So, Robert told me you're Kill’s girl, but you guys don’t mind sharing, and I just wanted to introduce myself.” He held out his hand as I stared at him, my bladder forgotten for a second.

  “He told you what?” I asked, venom dripping off my tongue.

  Someone behind me yelled that if I didn’t start moving, they were going to pee on me. Thankfully I was next for the bathroom. Shaking my head, I ignored his outstretched hand.

  I barely made it, and for a moment everything was forgotten except the feeling of relief. It had taken me so long to get into the bathroom the boys were already onstage, and Kill had the crowd fired up.

  Taking Amy’s almost empty fish bowl, I finished it, letting the sugar and alcohol wind through me, wanting to get the giggles back.

  “Are you alright, Faith?” Jessie asked, scooting closer to me so she could hear me over the noise.

  “Yeah, I'm fine,” I lied, and by the look on her face she knew it. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jess, but I promise it's nothing,” I said, not wanting to get into it.

  “Alright, but I'm here if you want to talk,” she said, patting the hand clenched around Amy’s now empty drink.

  I looked at Amy sheepishly and handed her back her glass. “It’s good isn't it?” Amy asked, not caring I had mooched her alcohol all night.

  “Yeah, it's pretty good for Smurf pee," I answered.

  A horrified expression crossed Amy's face. “Do you think Smurfette has a blue period?”

  Unable to even start to pretend to understand where she got her ideas, I started laughing. It was so much better to laugh than mope around with drama I had no control over, so I decided to go further.

  “I don’t know, do you think their cum's blue?”

  Jessie tried not to laugh, or get in our conversation in order to maintain her southern belle status, but she couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Kill was trying to see what we were laughing at from onstage. D looked at me concerned, and I'm sure he saw me down the rest of Amy’s drink.

  “Are we going to be able to coax you back up onstage? You look like you're having a damn good time over there,” Kill asked over the microphone, making most of the people on the dance floor turn their heads.

  I waved at Kill and blew him a kiss, thinking maybe I drank a little too much after all. Kill threw his head back and laughed.

  “Come on up here,” he said, motioning me with his finger.

  I wobbled a little when my heels hit the floor. Once I was steady, I eyed Amy’s now empty fish bowl, regretting our quick affair.

  The fans squealed in delight, and people cheered. I searched for Kill, and spotted his head above the crowd, making his way through the throngs of people.

  He emerged after causing chaos among every one he passed. He smiled as he approached, and I giggled at the pure determination on his face. When he reached our table, he addressed Jessie and Amy as I tried to quell my giggles, while holding on to the table to make sure I didn’t fall on my face.

  “Ladies, I'm going to have to steal your friend for moment. Her services are required.”

  The people close enough to hear him made lewd comments on the services they thought he required.

  “Take her,” Amy said, jumping around in her seat, loving the attention focused on the table.

  “Thank you,” Kill said, throwing me over his shoulder as he made his way through the dance floor.

  I laughed while staring at the amazing view of his ass, and thought I should petition to have this as my means of transportation from now on.

  When we reached the stage, he sat me on the edge, and he hopped up, helping me stand. Jet gave Kill the thumbs up, and Van laughed behind his drums. D smiled and played along, knowing the antics would help the band's image, but there was a tightness around his eyes and mouth.

  “Well, I got you up here, the least you can do is sing for us,” Kill said, and the crowd chanted for me to sing for my ride.

  I signaled for Van to start before Kill could, more in the moment then normal. Van laughed at Kill’s surprised expression.

  We sang to each other, not looking at the audience as much as we had done in the past, and I was hypnotized by his lips as they formed the lyrics. The song ended, and the fans erupted into applause and whistling.

  When they calmed down, Van segued into the last song I would sing tonight. He extended the intro allowing the screams to die down so we could actually be heard.

  When my set was over, Kill summoned a chair from a stagehand. I wondered if he was tired, and thought he better be ok to drive because I wasn’t. When he saw me start to walk away, he stopped me.

  “Where do you think you're going?”

  I pointed to the girls, trying to figure out why he would ask such a dumb question. The chair finally made it up onstage, and he placed it off to the side so it wasn’t interfering with band, and then led me over to it.

  “Sit here; you deserve the best seat.”

  The audience screamed their agreement. I sat down on the chair as the boys finished their set, unable to wipe the smile off of my face.

  Jet, not wanting to disappoint, jumped into the waiting arms of his lingering fans. Van held his drum sticks, coming over to me with Kill and D behind him.

 
; Van reached me first swinging me around and telling me how great I was. He put me on the ground and kissed the top of my head, making me wobble from all of the movement.

  Kill put his arm around my waist, keeping me steady. “I gotcha', Slick,” he murmured in my ear.

  “Sorry, Faith, I was just so excited,” Van said.

  “Shut up, Van, you know you can swing me around whenever you want. Amy’s drink hit me harder than I expected it to.”

  As Van got offstage, he was surrounded by bar girls trying everything they could to get his attention. Jessie stiffened when she saw him surrounded she snatched her purse off of the chair, ready to make her escape.

  Van spotted her retreat and ran straight toward her. He picked her up, swinging her around in the same fashion he had with me, except when he set her down, instead of kissing her on the head he kissed her full on the mouth.

  “Do you need anything, Faith?” D asked. He kept looking at me as I leaned on Kill, letting him do the pesky job of keeping me upright.

  “I’m good, thanks D. I’m ready for bed,” I said, yawning widely and snuggling further into Kill.

  “I can take Faith home if you want to stay and party for a while, Kill?”

  I was too tired to register D's suggestion, the sugar and alcohol were pushing me into a wall. Kill held me tighter, and I yawned again, just wanting to go home and crawl into bed.

  “No, I got it D. Thanks,” Kill said.

  “Are you sure? I know Gemma was looking for you. You seemed really interested in her last time,” D said, and I put my hand on Kill’s chest, trying to assume our normal sleep position while standing up.

  “Kill, that drink's making me crash.” My voice was small because it was taking all the effort I had left to speak.

  “Alright Slick, let’s get you home,” he said into my hair. “Can you pack up without me? I'm going to get her out of here,” Kill said, already moving me offstage.

  “Yeah, but Gemma's going to be upset,” D said loudly.

  "D, stop. Now!" Kill growled, as we walked off.

  “Hey Kill, want to come back to my place?” A seductive voice asked, as Kill tightened his hold on me. Her voice was husky, and I moved my head to get a glimpse of who was prolonging my sleep. My body physically lurched from the perfection standing in front of me.

  She wore a low cut, tight black shirt, and a short, red leather skirt with fuck me heels. I pulled away from Kill, not wanting to show any weakness, but Kill wouldn't let me go. I tapped into the energy reserves I was trusting my body to have stored, just for situations like this.

  “Hey Gemma, remember what we talked about?" Kill said.

  She focused on Kill, pretending I didn’t exist, and I used the time to pull myself together. I wasn't strong enough to watch women throw themselves at Kill.

  I realized a relationship was never going to happen between us. I could never be secure enough for him to be surrounded by women. I wished he would take her up on her offer so I could hurry up and get my heart broken.

  “Hey Kill. I'm really tired. Maybe I can get one of the girls to take me home so you can stay.”

  I refused the tears wanting to form, telling myself it was bound to happen.

  “No, Slick, I got you,” he said. His face was emotionless, but his eyes told me there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to be anywhere but with him.

  “Alright,” I sighed, defeated.

  “Gemma, I have to get her home.” Kill flashed her his performer smile. I remained standing up straight, even though all I wanted to do was slump into Kill.

  “I'll be here whenever you need me,” she purred, and kissed him on the cheek.

  A primal urge ran through me to push her off him and claim his as mine. I knew it wouldn’t be fair to either of us if I pretended I was ready in order to get some skank off him.

  Kill turned his head, causing her to leave a lipstick smear as her lips trailed over it. She leaned back and put on a fake smile, but her eyes glowed with anger.

  “Are you alright, Slick?” he asked, in my ear, and I nodded my head, not trusting my tongue to form words other than, 'back off bitch, he's mine.'”

  He sighed as we made our way to the table. “Hey guys, I'm going to get little Miss Lightweight home. She's crashing pretty hard from the sugar, alcohol and adrenaline.”

  Van and Jet both told Kill to get me home and not to worry about packing up. Amy sat at the table looking like I felt. She was practically wilted on her chair, staring off into the distance.

  “Actually, can you take Amy home for me?” Jet asked, putting his arms around her.

  “Yeah, no problem. Jess, do you want to ride home with us?” Kill asked.

  “No, I'll ride home with Van.” Her eyes drooped, and I didn’t know how much longer she was going to be able to sit upright.

  “No, Jessie girl, go home with Kill and get in our bed. I'll be home soon,” Van said, pulling Jessie up into his arms.

  I waited for her to argue, but I guess the night had gotten to her too, because she allowed Van to guide her, along with Jet who was carrying Amy, and me, snuggled into Kill out the back door to the car.

  When we got home, I helped Kill wake the girls up so we could shuffle them into the house. They walked upstairs, bumping off each other and the walls as they made their way up to their boyfriends' rooms. I leaned on the wall in front of the stairs, trying to find the energy needed for the journey I was about to make.

  Kill came up behind me and chuckled. I tried to turn my head, but it had become so heavy the thought of moving it gave me a headache. Kill carried me as I melted into him. When we got to my room, he put me on the bed, and I cuddled into the pillow on his side.

  “Come on Slick, you can’t wear that to bed,” he groaned.

  I opened an eye, glaring down at my still dressed body, hating clothes at the moment. Taking off my shoes, I let them fall to the floor and hoped I wasn't scuffing them with my mistreatment. I went to take my shirt off, but Kill stopped me as my hands started to rise.

  “Hold on,” he said, sounding panicked.

  “Come on Killer, you've seen plenty of naked girls. Am I so deplorable you can’t see me naked?” I asked pouting.

  “That’s it Slick, I don’t want to see you naked because you're deplorable. Shit, only you would use the word deplorable while you're drunk,” he complained.

  “Then why won’t you help me get undressed?” I asked, flopping back on the bed to unbutton my jeans so I could shimmy out of them.

  “I've been trying to be a good friend to you. The self-control I've used while around you should have me on the way to getting my sainthood. I know you feel it too. The jealousy coming off of you when Gemma kissed me was palpable. We're too close for me to hurt my chances now. So please, get undressed and put something on, or I'll go get one of the girls.”

  “Fine, don’t go get the girls. Go get changed, and by the time you get back, I'll be dressed,” I said.

  “Alright, I'll be right back.”

  I got up quickly taking off my jeans, shirt, and bra and throwing them on the dresser. Picking up my shoes I put them back in my closet, apologizing to them for being lazy earlier.

  Using all the energy I had to throw on a sports bra with my underwear. I contemplated putting on something more, but my energy was spent. Crawling under the covers I put my head on Kill’s pillow.

  I barely remembered Kill slipping under the covers and pulling me into him. Caught somewhere between sleep and awake, I dreamt of Kill touching my naked skin on a private beach, when he cussed at me for making his resistance falter by only wearing underwear and a bra.

  I wanted to argue it was a bathing suit, but realized I was only wearing a bra and underwear in bed in real life, and before I could determine what was real, I fell asleep again.

  Chapter 29

  The next two weeks were on fast forward. Rumors of our love child died down, but every once in awhile I would catch a customer staring at my stomach. Since I was done w
ith my thesis and waiting for my professor to get back with me, I didn’t stay in my room as often.

  Kill and I sometimes would go to the park. I would read while he wrote in his notebook, or take out his acoustic guitar and strum it as he hummed along to a new song. Those were by far my favorite days.

  One day, we wasted all day sitting at home in the living room singing. We made a game where I tried stumping him with songs, thinking he wouldn’t be able to play them off the top of his head. I hadn’t been able to get him yet.

  Other days, we would go on an adventure, ending up at the Zoo, or in Washington for the day, shopping or people watching. The more time I spent with Kill, the more I recognized I was an idiot to think I hadn’t already given him my whole heart. I had a sneaking suspicion he had from the moment I met him.

  I practiced with the boys when they needed me, and was now in the rotation to sing with them at Ray’s and The Note every week.

  I no longer saw Jason's car across the street from Ray's, but I continued to get notes on my car at least three times a week. By sheer luck, I was able to collect them without the boys finding out.

  Martha had moved in with my dad, and I had a feeling they were going to get married sometime soon. Amy and Jet were still going strong, spending the night at Amy’s house most of the time, and only coming over for practice and dinner. Dinner became one of my favorite times of the day, except for at night when I could snuggle into Kill.

  Jessie and Van were up and down in their relationship, and I could time their fights by whether or not she had talked to her parents. She still hadn’t told Van about her past, but her calls to her parents were fewer than they used to be.

  Anytime I would try and broach the subject, she would get upset and tell me she would do it on her own time. Trent had tried to call me a couple of times, and I refused to answer. I felt bad for avoiding him, but I just wasn’t ready for him.

  After I had sung at The Note, Ray’s seemed to be even more crowded. With the influx of customers, we were running around trying to keep up with the demand.