Breaking Faith (The JackholeS Book 1)

by Joy Eileen

  His fists were so tight his knuckles were white. I reached over and wrapped my hand around his hand. We stared out the windshield, lost in our own thoughts.

  After a while, it got cold, my hoodie no longer kept me warm. Our hands were intertwined, and I didn't know which one of us linked them together.

  “Well, I hate to admit it, but you were right,” I said breaking the silence.

  His face blanched, and he removed his hand from mine. The ticking in his jaw started again. His dentist must have a field day.

  “My feet are killing me,” I replied, lifting up my shoes I pried off of my feet earlier.

  Kill chuckled as he tossed them in the back seat.

  “Hey, Killer, those cost a lot of money. You shouldn't treat them like that.”

  I went to apologize to them, but Kill caught my chin between his fingers, and in just one look, I was no longer cold; that boy’s eyes could do more for me than a dozen blankets.

  “Let’s go home.” His face was firm, and I knew he wasn't going to relent.

  “We want you there, Faith. We're trying to get our karma points up so we'll hit it big soon.”

  I closed my eyes to block his gaze, keeping a clear mind when those powerful orbs were staring at me was impossible. “I don’t want to be a charity case, Kill. Besides, the JackholeS are going to make it with or without karma. You guys are amazing. I'm surprised you haven’t already hit it big already.” I opened my eyes, and his were blazing with passion.

  “You think I’m amazing?” he said in a sing-song voice, causing me to roll my eyes.

  He so didn't need a bigger ego. “No, Killer. I said you guys are amazing - as in all of you.”

  “Yeah, but I'm a part of the ‘guys’, therefore I'm, according to you, amazing.”

  I laughed at his logic. “Ok, you know you're pretty awesome, so you have to know your big break will happen soon.” His face reddened from my praise.

  “No, we're just like any other band. I would like to make it for the boys though. They have been through so much. I don't really care about the fame.”

  “But you're so good. Hell, every woman in the crowd thinks you're singing to her, and everyone of them wants you. Every man either hates you because their woman is lusting after you, or they want to thank you for getting them hot so all they have to do is quirk their finger.”

  Kill gave me his damn half-smile, while his eyebrow raised. “Do you want me, Slick?”

  His voice was low and rough, almost as if he growled his question. My stomach flip flopped, and heat flooded my body, centering in my most intimate spot.

  “Sorry, Killer. I don’t find you attractive, you're too arrogant for my taste.”

  His half-smile turned into a full blown smile, causing his dimple to become present and accounted for, and fuck if he didn't look adorable with that naughty expression.

  “Liar,” he taunted, as he got out of my car, his smile still plastered on his face. “Follow me home, and don’t get any ideas. We want you there; you're stuck with us now.”

  With that, he walked over to Jet’s truck. He drove toward the exit, not pulling out until he was satisfied I was following him. I stayed close behind him, and pulled into the exact spot I was parked in before.

  In front of me was a black Toyota Highlander, which I assumed was D's. Earlier today, next to Jet’s truck, was an orange El Camino. It was missing, so I was guessing it was Van’s.

  I slid around to get my shoes, apologizing to them for Kill's rough behavior. He came over to see what the hold up was, and snatched my shoes from my hands.

  “Hey, jackass, be careful with those,” I shrieked, lunging for him.

  When my feet hit the ground, I jumped back into my car. The asphalt was freezing, and my feet cramped on contact. Kill chuckled, throwing me over his shoulder, getting my laptop and bag in one swoop.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked his perfectly shaped ass.

  “I'm carrying you into the house you're now living at, so you don’t have to put those hot as hell torture devices back on. Well, at least until your next shift, because watching you prance around in those damn things tonight was sexy as fuck.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. My blood was centered around the fire his words caused, short circuiting my brain from any logical thought.

  In the house, the guys were playing video games. “Uhm, hey, Faith?” I heard D say, unable to see him as I was still looking at the sexiest ass ever.

  “Put me down, asshole.” I tried to sound outraged.

  Once again I slid over his body. I couldn’t stop from gasping when his jeans scraped across my stomach. Passion reflected on his face. Remembering we weren't alone I spun around. The guys were on the couch watching us. Van was absent, already over at Jessie’s.

  “What the hell, Faith. Why are you trying to deny us your cooking?” Jet whined. He looked wounded, and I couldn’t help but laugh before sobering.

  “Look, I appreciate you guys trying to help me, but I feel like a charity case.”

  Kill whirled me around. His nostrils flaring. “Go upstairs to your room. Enough of this shit, and if you ever try to run again I will find you. Don’t worry about finding a damn place, you're staying here, at least until you're done with school. This isn't charity, so get your ass to bed. We want you here. We'll protect you, so you get to live the life you deserve, without worrying about your ex.”

  “Fine,” I relented, but decided to use my newly discovered independence. “But, I'm paying rent.”

  He wanted to argue, but seeing the determination in my eyes, he nodded. “Alright, Slick,” he spun me around to face the guys again.

  They gazed at me with support in their eyes, and I felt myself start to mend.

  “Thank you,” I said, and shyly went upstairs.

  In the room that would be mine for the remainder of my schooling, I dug through my clothes. I found my Nikes before pulling out a pair of yoga pants, sports bra, socks, and tank top. Deciding to go for a run in the morning.

  I used to run every day with my dad. Jason hated it, saying I was just looking for attention. With him out of the picture, there was nothing to stop me.

  In the bathroom, a fresh pink towel hung on the towel rack, making my heart swell. After a quick shower, the day finally caught up with me. I dressed in my running clothes, figuring it would be an incentive to get out of bed in the morning.

  Setting the alarm on my phone, I noticed it was half charged. I went through my bag looking for my charger, before remembering I left it in the living room.

  My thighs clenched as I recalled Kill’s long, smooth fingers running through my hair. I cleared my head of those thoughts, and went downstairs.

  D and Jet were arguing about their game while Kill sat on the couch. Kill, being less engrossed, saw me first.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked with fire in his eyes, ready for a fight.

  “Nope,” I replied, putting extra emphasis on the p. I unplugged my charger and turned to walk back to my room, but Kill stopped me.

  “Why are you dressed? You aren’t going to sneak out in the middle of the night are you?” he asked, causing Jet to pause the game.

  Jet looked at me with puppy dog eyes. “Faith, you can’t deny the Sex God of home-cooked meals.”

  “Relax,” I said, talking to Jet instead of Kill. “I'm going to go for a run later. I wanted my phone charged, that’s all. Geez, you guys are worse than mother hens.”

  “That’s because we love you, doll-face,” Jet replied, making me smile on my way upstairs.

  With everything that went on today, I hoped sleep find me fast, but it must have lost my new address, because it was nowhere to be found.

  Plugging in my iPod, I put my ear buds in. I turned on my sleep music, which to anyone else would be the least bit soothing. I listened to hard rock when I couldn’t sleep.

  If I turned it on loud enough, it would drown out my worries, letting my mind shut down and lull me to sleep. When Hale
storm’s 'Freak Like Me' started, sleep finally GPS’d my new bedroom and claimed me.

  Chapter 8

  I became discombobulated as my alarm went off, trying to figure out where I was. Then, like a harping aunt, the reality of the last couple of days hit me.

  I contemplated if I should call Ginger before or after my run. Undecided, I went into the bathroom to get ready. I tried to be quiet, not wanting to wake anyone as I left my room.

  I stopped mid-stride when I saw Kill sitting on the couch, a glass of green froth in his hands. He was wearing black gym shorts and a matching tank. His defined arms and abs were showcased by his tight shirt. The black tennis shoes laced on his feet made him look like the quintessential badass.

  “Like what you see?” he asked, bringing me back from perusing his body.

  I snapped my mouth shut. “Nope, just wondering why you're dressed up,” I said, as I walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

  Kill followed me. I leaned against the counter, putting space between us. His eyes lit up with laughter, and that adorable half-smile was back. "Well, I was hoping you'd let me run with you.”

  “No,” I said, flat out rejecting him, knowing with him anywhere near me, I would most likely trip and fall. Being near Kill had a way of making me feel off balance.

  “Why?” he asked, surprised by my answer.

  It made me smile to think his offers weren't denied often, or ever, and I just did. “Because I haven’t run in a while, and I don’t know how far I'll get.”

  “All the more reason for me to go; to make sure you don’t pass out.”

  “I'm not going to pass out,” I retorted, putting my hands on my hips.

  “Good,” he replied, rinsing out his cup.

  "What the hell is that?" I asked, pointing to his now clean glass.

  "A protein shake, much better for you than coffee." He snatched a bottle of water out of the fridge, before leaving the kitchen. I stood there and fumed as he opened the door. It didn’t close as he waited for me on the other side.

  "Don’t be scared, Slick.” His taunt was all the motivation I needed.

  As I pried my eyes from his ass while he stretched, I hoped he didn't see me. The smile on his face was a dead giveaway I was caught.

  After a block, Kill slapped my ass and ran ahead of me. “Come on, show me what you got.”

  Letting the rhythm of my feet on the pavement, and the music in my ears take over, I tried to ignore him. Anytime I slowed my pace, Kill slapped me on my ass, laughing as I glared at him.

  After a while, my body was exhausted from being pushed so hard, so soon. I slowed, evading Kill’s hand when he reached for me. My legs were shaking when we reached the house. While taking a drink of water, a tremor from my spent muscles caused me to spill.

  I swiped the water off of my chin, missing the rest as it trekked down my neck. Kill traced the rivulets of water with his eyes as they trailed down my throat, soaking into my tank top.

  When his eyes flicked to mine, desire was smoldering in them. He took a step toward me, and I froze, caught in his gaze. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, before dropping his hand to the side.

  My tongue traced the path his thumb just made. I could taste the salt from both of us, and the fire inside of me burned hotter.

  He tracked my tongue during its journey, causing my body to become a bundle of sensations. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the back of his neck, cursing under his breath.

  When he opened his eyes, the need swimming in them had vanished, replaced by an impenetrable wall of aloofness. The sudden change was shocking.

  He walked into the house, leaving me standing in the yard, trying to catch the breath he knocked out of me. The inside of my thighs tingled with want. I shook my head at my stupidity. When would I learn to stay away from men, especially dark, broody, sexy-as-hell musicians?

  I climbed into the shower, letting it wash away the grime and confusion. After dressing in a purple Five Finger Death Punch t-shirt, button-fly Levi’s, and a pair of red sparkly sandals, my sexual frustration was at a manageable simmer.

  I put on a small amount of makeup and curled my hair in big ringlets, certain it would be in a ponytail before nightfall.

  “Where are you headed?” Jet asked, watching T.V. on the couch when I made it downstairs.

  “I need to go grocery shopping, There's a brood of boys holding me hostage and making me feed them.”

  “Damn skippy, woman. What’s for dinner tonight?” His eyes were as bright as a kid with a brand new toy, a brand new toy that cooked.

  “I don’t know, what do you want?”

  “Pancakes!”

  “Done.”

  “You're awesome. Marry me?”

  “What about Amy?”

  “She'll be wife number two, and we can share one big bed.”

  “Pig,” I retorted.

  If his eyes were shining from the thought of pancakes, they were nothing compared to the thought of the three of us in his bed. “But you love me, and don’t knock my idea until you've had a chance to think about it.”

  Closing the door at his final request, I considered forgetting pancake mix.

  At the store, I spotted a silver Honda parked at the edge of the lot. Squinting, I tried to see if it was Jason’s. My heart beat rapidly, and my body grew clammy.

  I realized at some point I would have to face Jason; I just wasn’t prepared to do it so soon. Getting out of the car, I walked quickly into the store, my phone clenched in my hand. The whole trip my nerves were on overload, jumping at the slightest noise.

  The car was gone when I came back out. In my car my phone's alarm went off, scaring the hell out of me. I reached for my birth control, and I noticed I was on the sugar pills, making me wonder if my paranoid state was due to my hormones.

  Really, how many silver Honda Civics were driving around Portland? Jason wasn’t stupid enough to violate the restraining order. Mentally inventorying the groceries in my trunk, I realized they consisted mostly of sugar, solidifying my conclusion I needed to get a grip.

  At Walgreen's, I stocked up for the impending red tide, purchasing yet another bottle of Tums, a staple in my diet the past couple of years.

  There was a sporting store next door, and I ran in and bought mace that attached to my key chain. I was in a hurry, not wanting my gallon of chocolate milk and carton of pralines and cream to get warm.

  I pulled up into my spot, and popped the trunk, getting as many bags as I could so I wouldn't have to make numerous trips. They dug into my forearm as I strained to open the door.

  Kill opened it as I fumbled with the knob. Without a word he took the bags from me. I protested, telling him I had everything under control, but he wouldn't listen. As I was loading up my arms for my next trip, Kill came up behind me.

  “Did you leave any food for the rest of Portland?”

  Ahhh, the playful Kill had returned during my absence. “Shut up, Killer,” I muttered, pushing past him.

  He laughed, taking the rest of the bags and closing the trunk. “What has your panties in a knot?”

  Assuming some of my annoyance was from my upcoming visit from Aunt Flo, and the Honda, I decided to mess with him, to lift my mood. “Nothing has my panties in a knot, Killer, because that would require me to wear them.”

  He sucked in deep breath, and a smile cemented on my face.

  I unpacked the groceries by myself, Kill quickly abandoned me after my remark. That done, I snatched an apple, telling Jet and Van I would start dinner soon.

  Upstairs, Kill’s bedroom door was closed. I smirked at it, hoping he was stewing in sexual frustration like I had been since meeting him.

  In my room, my stomach pitched forward. I put off my call to Ginger long enough. Finishing my apple, I got up to throw it away. Realizing it was a stall tactic, I sat back down.

  I dialed Cool Beans, hoping she wouldn’t answer. But the universe gave me a big middle finger as Ginger answered after the second ring.

/>   “Where have you been, honey? Jason's been frantic.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, annoyed Jason was playing the distressed boyfriend. “Ginger,” I cut in, wanting to stop her rant.

  Figuring it would entail how great Jason was, and how I shouldn’t play games with a boy like that, because he will be snatched up in seconds by some girl who will treat him right, blah, blah, blah.

  “I'm not going back to Jason, and I'm not coming back to Cool Beans,” I expelled in a rush, pushing the words out as fast as I could.

  Ginger was quiet for so long, I checked the screen on my phone to see if the call dropped. “Listen, Faith. Jason's worried about you. He said you were having a mental breakdown from the pressures of school and worrying over your dad. I get that kid, but you need to go back to him. He loves you. How about I take you off the schedule until you can get your life together? You will always have a job with us, but please call him. He's sick with worry.”

  “I’m sorry Ginger, but I can’t.” I pressed the end button, letting my phone drop to the floor before she could try to persuade me.

  Pushing the heels of my palms into my eyes, I tried to stop the tears, but they escaped through the fissures they found. I pressed so hard I saw flashes of light. Removing my hands, I stared at the wall.

  There was a light knock on my door before Jessie came in. She walked over and wrapped her arms around me. Her entrance sparked something, and grief hit me, hard. A loud cry escaped my lips. I turned my head into her shoulder and sobbed.

  I let my heartbreak flow through me, not able to, and not wanting to, hold it back. Needing to purge all the useless years spent with Jason from my system.

  Once the tears had stopped, my eyes were swollen from the emotion that had flowed out of them. Jessie told me she would take care of dinner. Too emotionally drained to talk, I just snuggled into bed.

  I heard her murmuring to someone in the hallway. The door opened, and without opening my eyes, I knew it was Kill. The bed dipped next to me, and a cold washcloth was placed across my eyes.