Breaking Faith (The JackholeS Book 1)

by Joy Eileen

  Run! My brain screamed, but my heart screamed louder.

  “I love you, Faith. Seeing that guy flirt with you made me crazy. Please move in with me, so I can take care of you.”

  My rant faded away as his eyes filled with tears. He chose the awkward girl with the crazy mother and over protective father. He chose me.

  I refused to move unless he flew home with me to meet my dad during winter break. We boarded the plane as soon as I finished my last class, three weeks later.

  Jason was perfect. My dad was smitten with him, just like everyone else. As I snuggled in with my charmer on Christmas Eve, I wondered why I was so reluctant in our relationship.

  Once home, we went straight to my dorm to pack. We both wanted to start the new chapter of our lives together as soon as possible. Being so enamored with love, I didn't comprehend the situation I had put myself into, until it was too late.

  Our apartment quickly became a prison, and I would constantly try to fly under his anger radar. Luckily I was a quick study on what would make him go off on his tangents, and after a while, I mastered keeping his temper in check.

  Soon, the next semester started, and once again I had a massive course load. Thankfully, so did Jason. I avoided him, as the pressure he was under made his temper simmer closer to the surface.

  Jason snapped at the slightest provocation, and the master status I thought I earned was put to shame. The days blended together. My life consisted of school, work, and trying to figure out Jason's mood.

  The semester ended, and it was time for Jason to graduate. I hoped with the stress of school removed, Jason's temper would mellow. I crossed my fingers as the thought went through my head for the hundredth time.

  When I slid into the dress I had painstakingly picked out for the occasion, they were still crossed. The dress was black; the top was a halter style with a red belt across the high waist, the skirt flared out-ending just short of my knees. I put on a pair of fishnet stockings and matched it with bright red pumps.

  My hair and makeup were in perfect pin-up style. I thought I looked pretty good; a rare occurrence with my self-esteem.

  In the room where Jason was tying his tie; I ran my hands up his back, settling them around his neck.

  “Damn it, Faith! I'm trying to get ready.” He shrugged my arms off, and I stepped away as humiliation, hot and prickly, crawled up my neck. His eyes softened when he turned. “You look amazing. I'm sorry for snapping at you, I'm just nervous.” He grabbed me and kissed me hard, halting only when a knock sounded on the door.

  My dad opted to stay in a hotel, and I was grateful he wasn't around to see Jason's temper flare. “You're breathtaking,” he said, and swept me up in a hug, lifting me off the floor.

  Jason emerged, a grin on his face. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he asked my dad.

  Blushing from the attention, I rushed them out of our apartment so I could watch my man graduate.

  After the ceremony, where I came close to screaming myself mute, we went to dinner at an upscale restaurant. Unfortunately, Jason’s parents joined us. This wasn’t the first time I'd met them, and my impression still hadn’t changed.

  They were very stuffy people.

  Jason's dad, Mr. Hutchingson, owned a large advertising agency. Now that Jason had graduated, he held the title of Junior Executive in the company. His dad had a harsh look on his face, and I imagined he would feel physical pain if he laughed.

  Jason's mom was a slight woman and wore a face that looked as though she was having a constant affair with a lemon.

  After dinner, I excused myself to escape Jason’s rigid parents, and upon returning someone called my name. A boy in one of my classes sat at a nearby table, waving at me. Going over to greet him, I shot Jason a nervous glance.

  He got up and gave me a hug, making me nauseous with Jason watching. I stepped back as fast as I could, my stomach threatening an upheaval.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  Jason's smiled as he talked to my dad, but his attention never wavered from me. I pointed over to him and blew him a kiss hoping it would placate his temper.

  “My boyfriend just graduated,” I answered, still smiling at Jason.

  “Congratulations. I'm here with my family.” He indicated the people sitting at the table next to him. I introduced myself with lightning speed before heading back to Jason.

  When I reached the table, Jason clamped down on my hand, making me whimper. My dad nodded at Jason and he proceeded to kneel on one knee.

  I went numb as Jason started his proposal.

  Everything slowed. Jason's voice sounded distorted, and I had to concentrate to understand what he was saying. “Faith, I'm so happy you came into my life. Please make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.”

  He squeezed my hand so hard I ended up on my knees trying to lessen the pressure. Yanking my hand out of his, I flung my arms around his neck, kissing him as I whispered yes in his ear.

  He put a large ring on my finger. My mind gave one last-ditch effort and screamed at me to run; I ignored it. Just when I thought I couldn’t be more pathetic, I had sunk even lower.

  My dad hugged me after we rose from the ground, tears shining in his eyes. “Now, he promised me he would wait until after your graduation before he takes you away,” he sniffled in my hair.

  “Oh, Daddy,” I said, sobbing, letting my tears melt into his shirt.

  Dinner was a blur as everyone extended their congratulations. His mom even managed to smile around her lemon.

  Jason then made the comment, "We're going home to celebrate," putting extra emphasis on the word celebrate. My dad turned as red as the wine he just gulped down.

  Later, while leaning against the kitchen counter at home, I surveyed the giant diamond gracing my finger. Jason strutted toward me, loosening his tie.

  “You'll never take that off. That way everyone will know you're taken. Even when you dress like a whore, and I'm not around, that ring on your finger will let them know you're a taken whore.”

  My head snapped up, staring at him in horror.

  “What? Don’t act innocent. You were falling out of your dress, and don’t think I didn’t see you fawning all over that guy to make me jealous.” He leaned into me until my back dug into the counter. “You're mine; don’t ever forget that.”

  His fingers encircled my arms, digging into the soft flesh. I cried out in pain as he squeezed them. Blood rushed past my ears, deafening me. All I could hear was the roar of fear circulating through me.

  He carried me to the bedroom, throwing me on the bed. I cried silently as he yanked my dress up and ripped my fishnets until they hung limp and ruined down my legs.

  He pulled on a condom before shoving himself into me. I whimpered at the burning sensation the dry friction caused. He whispered I belonged to him and nobody else, over and over again in my ear.

  My fear intensified the pain. I bit my lip to keep the cry of agony within, but it escaped, only to be muffled by the slapping of our skin violently colliding.

  When finished, he rolled over and fell asleep, still clinging to me.

  Tears tracked down my cheeks, soaking my pillow, before I passed out from exhaustion and humiliation.

  The next morning, I woke up alone, as the events of the night bombarded me. Jason whistled in the kitchen, and the smell of bacon wafted through the air.

  I hurt all over, my heart included. In the bathroom, I surveyed myself, acknowledging the nasty bruises marring my upper arms, and everywhere else.

  I convinced myself nobody would believe Jason was capable of this type of violence. Who would believe me if I tried to shatter the illusion I helped create?

  Throwing away the tattered fishnets, I pushed them to the bottom of the waste basket and added toilet paper to hide the evidence, not able to stomach the sight.

  While showering I avoided the garish ring. I became nauseous every time I caught sight of it. Jason yelled at me to hurry up and get ready so we could eat bef
ore taking my dad to the airport.

  I put on more makeup than normal, hiding the puffiness of my eyes from my all night crying session. Dressed in a tank top and skinny jeans, I put on a pair of black pumps. I also snagged my fitted leather jacket out of the closet so I could wear it to hide the offending bruises.

  “Hey, sleepy head,” he said, coming up and hugging me, causing my body to scream in pain while my face didn't register a wince. He pulled back and examined the bruises on my arms. “You need to be more careful, clumsy. I hate seeing my girl’s skin bruised, and I'm afraid when we tell your dad you fell, he'll think you're some battered woman.”

  He laughed at the audacity, while he ran his fingers through my hair and kissed me.

  I put this on myself. Jason had manipulated everyone, myself included, to consider him the perfect guy.

  “I will,” I replied in a shaky voice, walking over to the chair with a plate of food in front of it.

  “That’s my girl,” he said from behind me, squeezing my arms in the exact spot the bruises were.

  My plate had a waffle in the shape of a heart, with bacon arrows shooting through it. I forced myself to take several bites, not wanting to anger him.

  “Ready to go?” he asked after cleaning up, and helping me put on my jacket. “Don’t be sad, we'll see your dad again soon.”

  I nodded, unable to form words as my heart squeezed with the pain of my circumstances.

  Chapter 2

  I blinked back to reality. The clock showed the five minutes I allotted myself had expanded into half an hour. My phone alerted me of the many missed calls and text messages I had, but I just ignored them.

  I shoved the restraining order further into my bag, and the rest of our relationship back in a dark corner of my mind. Adjusting my hoodie, I felt secure with the fabric draped around me, as I stepped out into the night.

  The laid back atmosphere of Ray's surprised me. From the outside, it looked like a rough and tumble biker bar, but the inside was inviting.

  The dark wood of the bar wore its scars with pride. Every stool was occupied with drooling men attempting to get the bartender’s attention. High tables and tall chairs decorated the main floor. They were full of women in tight fitting clothes, leaving little to the imagination.

  In front of the dance floor, the stage was set for a show. The JackholeS played here on Fridays and Saturdays, as the marquee outside had stated.

  The other side of the room had the typical bar sports: pool tables, dart boards, and a pinball machine I needed to claim high score on soon.

  At a table near the side of the stage, my friends waved me over. As I approached them, I noticed the table behind them full of four perfect specimens of the male gender. Each one exemplified different traits that would make any female’s panties catch fire, just to have it doused from the dampness to follow.

  My hibernating vagina shrugged off sleep to get a look at them before retreating back into her cave. I hadn’t been attracted to anyone since I started dating Jason, and seeing how well our relationship had gone, she no longer got excited. I refused to trust myself when it came to the male species.

  Jason's jealousy had put my vagina into submission. An orgasm? That's a mythical creature, right?

  The first guy was body-builder huge. He had a shaved head and wore a tight fitting shirt, with the sleeves cut off, molded to his chiseled abdomen. I wondered if he could wear sleeves with the anaconda-like limbs hanging from his shoulders.

  Tattoos ran up both of his arms. His presence made me timid. If Jason were his size, I would have never lasted through one of his tirades. His warm hazel eyes radiated sincerity. Even with all the piercings, tattoos and muscles he couldn’t conceal his warm nature.

  Thinking only of the pain he could inflict, I was ashamed with myself for the snap judgment I made on Mr. Snuggles.

  Mr. Snuggles talked to a guy with a mop of curly brown hair. When he pushed the disheveled mop back, I caught sight of his face. A big smile lit up his honey colored eyes as they exuded mischief.

  His caramel-colored arms were covered in more tattoos than Mr. Snuggles. The theme on his arms could be described as boobs, and then bigger boobs. He wasn’t as muscular as Mr. Snuggles, and I could tell he used his charm to get his way.

  The guy next to the curly haired Mr. Mischief, had long dark hair hanging past his shoulders. He kept running a hand through it as he studied a notebook in front of him.

  His hunched back did nothing to diminish his athletic build. I couldn’t see any visible tattoos, or his eyes for that matter, as they were preoccupied with whatever he was reading, securing his nickname as The Professor.

  The last of the foursome left me breathless; he was gorgeous. This time my vagina not only woke up to get a look, but ran to her closet to find her sluttiest outfit.

  My nipples, not wanting to be outdone, pressed against my bra and aimed for his mouth. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes, but from what I saw, he was every girl’s wet dream.

  He had a natural tan, not an easy task in Portland, where most of the residents are many shades of pasty. His full brooding lips made me want to pull them into my mouth before they roamed over my body, the facial hair surrounding his perfect lips was too scruffy to be called a five o'clock shadow. He was sin.

  His messy dark brown hair looked as if a woman ran her hands through it, tugging at it in the throes of an orgasm. A black shirt hugged his body, making a pang of lust shoot through me. His body reminded me of a predator, long and sleek. The definition etched through his shirt had my tongue darting past my lips without permission from my vacated brain.

  After my blatant perusal of his body, I looked up to see his lips quirked. I didn’t know if it was toward me or something else, as his glasses made it impossible to tell.

  My vagina was wide awake now; the electric current I felt upon seeing him resuscitated her more efficiently than crash paddles.

  My brain made a valiant effort of escape as an apology for its abandonment as I stared at Mr. Sex-in-a-bar. Shaking my head, I walked over to Jessie, Amy, and Trent; my three best friends.

  He must have thought I was coming toward him because he straightened in his chair. My steps faltered, not having enough brain power to walk and be in his presence at the same time.

  His stare made me hot in my hoodie, and for the first time since putting it on, I didn’t feel sufficiently shielded. My eyes traveled back to my friends. The sight of them put my emotions at war. Tonight, I would confess the dark secret I had kept from them.

  Thoughts drifted to our first meeting. The reminder of the fateful night they came into my life quieted my nerves. I was positive they wouldn't abandon me.

  We met almost two years ago, after I was assigned to a study group in one of my more grueling classes. I pleaded with the professor to excuse me, but he refused to budge. Terrified, I went home to face Jason's wrath. Astonishingly, he understood.

  When I had to miss one of his work functions for our first group meeting, I received my punishment.

  Jason yanked me by the hair, making me tell him I was his and nobody else’s. He forced me to my knees, thrusting himself between my lips. Jason rode my mouth until satisfied I was marked for the night.

  “I can’t lose you, Faith. I love you so much.” He pulled me to his chest, hugging me tight. My heart, which I thought had been obliterated, shattered.

  “I know you love me, Jason. I'm not going anywhere.”

  I was late to our first meeting because of my discussion with Jason. Amy was the first to see me that night at the coffee shop. She swung her licorice at me, pointed to the seat next to her and ordered me to sit, which I did. For someone so petite, she packed a punch.

  Amy was a tiny Chinese girl with dark hair that hung at an angle around her heart shaped face. Her bob was in constant motion due to her endless supply of energy.

  She was eating candy non-stop; red licorice and Skittles were her drugs of choice. Her crude statements shocked me every time they
came out of her sugar-lined mouth, and she burrowed her way into my heart in seconds.

  Amy introduced me to Jessie, the next in our group. Jessie had the face and body of a supermodel. I wanted to hate her on principle, but couldn’t because she was a sweetheart. I knew we would be friends forever.

  Trent was the last of our group. He was handsome, in a boy-next-door way. With his sandy blonde hair sticking up around his head, the black-framed glasses he wore magnified his intense brown eyes.

  Instead of studying, we ended up talking.

  Amy was on an academic scholarship and majoring in Biology. She grew up in New York. I surmised this from her accent that became more pronounced when she got excited, which with her constant candy buzz, was often.

  Jessie was an only child who grew up in Texas. Her parents owned a bar that had been in her family since her great-grandpa had established it. Jessie admitted when she moved to Portland, she sought out a position at a bar, explaining it made her less homesick.

  Her eyes filled with tears as she confessed she spoke to her parents weekly. She struggled being so far away, and often considered moving back home to finish school. I empathized with her, telling her this was the first time I'd been away from my father as well.

  Trent grew up in Portland, and his parents had attended Oregon State. They actually met in one of their mutual classes. He was enrolled in the university before the ink was dry on his birth certificate.

  Trent had two brothers, one older who had finished college at Oregon State, and a younger one being prepped to enter his college career there in four years.

  By the time I finished telling them about my romance with Jason, I'm sure they had a crush on him. Enjoying the adult interaction, which didn't include Jason, I lost track of time. Looking up when someone approached the table, I saw Jason standing in front of us.

  I jumped up to kiss him, getting a head start on easing his temper. Jason was his charming self and had them eating out of the palm of his hand. All except Jessie. She kept shooting Jason a suspicious look.