Breaking Faith (The JackholeS Book 1)

by Joy Eileen

  Jason greeted me at the door, snatching the bag of food, oblivious my world had just been altered.

  Jason didn't wait for me before digging in. I wasn’t hungry, but one of Jason’s triggers was me eating without him. I nibbled on my food as it churned in my stomach. Jason smiled at my portion control while telling me about his day.

  I excused myself from the table when he finished his food. In the shower I let the tears of what could never be, mingle with the warm water. I climbed into bed with my headphones jammed in my ears the music as loud as I could get it, and went numb.

  Chapter 11

  Pain shot through my abdomen, bringing me back to reality and away from Jason and his punishments. My stomach made the universal sign for "you're going to heave." In a clumsy run I made it to the bathroom, dry heaving into the toilet until I was shaking on the floor.

  Peeling my clothes from my sweat covered body, I crawled into the shower. When the tremors subsided, I washed off, feeling weak from the pain and memories.

  Making sure I wasn’t leaving a trail of blood like a slasher version of Hansel and Gretel, I stumbled back into my room. Swallowing the pills my doctor prescribed for the pain, and I begged them to hurry.

  Wrapped in my towel, I crawled into bed and waited for the pills to take mercy on me. I was curled into a tight ball when Kill came in, filling up the room with his presence.

  “Hey lazy, what are you still doing in bed?” He walked over and sat on the edge.

  “Dying,” I replied, wishing those damn pills would hurry the fuck up.

  Kill cocked an eyebrow, baffled.

  “I'm recreating the battle of Gettysburg in between my legs.” I was disgusted at how whiney I sounded.

  Kill laughed, and if I wasn’t curled into such a tight ball, I would have kicked him. “Can I get you anything?”

  I shook my head as a vicious cramp stabbed through me, causing me to wince. Kill’s face transformed from amusement to worried.

  “I have extra pain pills somewhere from when I sprained my ankle. I could go find them.” His face was frantic as he tried to remember where they were. I grasped his hand before he could make it off of the bed, pulling him back.

  “I took some. Just talk to me until they kick in.”

  He nudged off his running shoes and got in bed behind me, running his hands through my wet hair. “Does this happen every month?”

  “It only gets bad if I'm stressed.”

  Wanting to get my mind off of my pain, I asked, “How did you sprain your ankle?” The cramps began to fade away, and I unfurled from the fetal position.

  Kill chuckled behind me, and I pressed my back deeper into his chest. “A very determined fan.”

  I waited for him to give me more details, but finally prompted him to continue. “Ok, you have to explain.”

  “Pushy little thing aren’t you?” he quipped back. “One night at Ray’s, when we finished our set, I umm, kind of made a comment about the one that made it to me first, would be the one that would get to finish first.”

  My cheeks burned, embarrassed when I thought I would have been pushing bitches out of my way. “Ok, I'm still not clear on the details.”

  “Well, there was sort of a stampede, and I was focused on some very eager uhm, bouncy friends. Because my attention was elsewhere, I didn’t see the damn ninja running at me from the side until she had jumped on me. Her ambush caught me off guard, and I stumbled, spraining my ankle while trying to keep us upright so we weren’t trampled by the approaching herd.”

  I laughed so hard I had to hold my stomach. When I turned onto my back he had a smile on his face.

  He started to say something else, but lust filled his eyes, causing my heart to trip as it tried to catch up with the new rhythm it was pacing at. “Slick,” he said, his voice was husky, and he was not looking at my face. “Are you naked?”

  His voice was raw, and downright sexy. Following his eyes, I saw one of my breasts had went rogue and escaped the confines of the towel and blanket. I flushed red, as my erect nipple looked for attention. I pulled my blanket up to my chin, refusing to look Kill in the eyes.

  “I’m not naked, I'm in a towel. I just haven't gotten dressed yet.”

  He still hadn’t said anything, and I peeked at him in curiosity. His eyes were shut tight, creasing at the sides. His jaw was doing that twitchy thing again, causing his dimple to flicker in and out like bad reception on an old T.V.

  “I’m sorry, Kill,” I apologized, not really sure what for. This was the man-whore of Portland after all. He'd probably seen more nipples than I have, and I see mine at least once a day.

  He reached over, and pushed up so my jaw was shut and nothing more could come out. Removing his hand he put his finger on my mouth in the universal sign of shut the hell up.

  I wanted to flick my tongue out and taste his finger, but I resisted, not wanting him to freak out anymore. After a while, he relaxed, before springing off the bed. “I think we should take a break from running today,” he said, as he made a hasty retreat.

  When I got out of bed, I tripped over his shoes still on the floor. Shaking my head at his fluctuating attitude, I went to my closet. Dressing in jeans and one of my favorite Halestorm tank tops, relieved the pills were doing their job.

  The boys played at another bar on Tuesday’s, meaning I would have the whole house to myself. I figured this would be a good time to work on my nearly completed thesis. I was comparing the women of Pride and Prejudice to the seven deadly sins.

  Chomping on Tums, I hoped it would curb the ache the boulder in my stomach was causing. The living room was deserted when I went downstairs, but the clothes from the dryer were folded on the bottom step.

  Van sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee. His eyes lit up when he saw me. I loved that my best friend had found him. “Hey Faith, whatcha up to?”

  “I wanted some breakfast, or lunch,” I corrected myself when I noticed the time. “Then I was going to go work on a paper for school. By the way, what’s the Wi-Fi password?” I asked, as I peeled a banana and poured a glass of juice.

  “JackholeS rule. One word.”

  I should have guessed. “Thanks,” I said, rinsing out my now empty glass.

  "Is that all you're going to eat?”

  Not wanting to explain my stomach felt like lit matches were burning a hole through it, I changed the subject. “Where’s Jessie?”

  I wiggled my eyebrow at him and smiled when the huge tattooed pierced rockstar turned red.

  “She went home to talk to her parents. It's been a couple of days and they threatened to come and take her home.” His forehead creased with worry.

  “Ahh, the family phone calls. She would have to leave our study groups when they called to reassure them she wasn’t being corrupted.”

  I patted his shoulder for support. Jessie’s family was very intimidating. “They're going to love you, Van. Don’t let them scare you off if you want to be with her. They're overbearing, but they only want the best for Jessie. I understand it's early to think about the future, but don’t give up.”

  He squeezed my hand. “Thanks. Are you coming to the show tonight? I don’t like the idea of you being here all alone.”

  My heart filled from his brotherly concern. “I'll be fine, I'm going to sit in my room all night and write, and I promise I'll call you if anything happens.”

  I let go of his shoulder to start dinner, wanting get it out of the way.

  “All of our numbers are on the table by the door. Call if you need us. I'm going to take a nap before we have to go.”

  Giving him a hug before he left the kitchen, I smiled when he flopped down on the couch. He turned on the T.V. for background noise, as I pulled out the crockpot.

  When I was back upstairs, and my laptop was connected with the WiFi, I pulled out my notes. I was so absorbed in my paper, I screamed when my phone buzzed under my leg.

  Annoyed at the interruption, I glowered as Trent’s name flashed on the screen.
Already out of the zone, I answered it.

  “Hey Faith.” His voice was hesitant. I wanted to feel sorry for him, but it was his fault for being in this position.

  “Hi Trent, how are you feeling?” I asked, uncertain of how this conversation would unfold.

  “Faith, I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to drink that much, and truthfully I don’t remember most of the night. I wanted to apologize if I got out of line.”

  He paused, and I was at a loss at what to do. On one hand, I could let him off of the hook, and I could avoid the awkward conversation. But on the other, I was positive it would happen again if I didn’t address it now. So I plunged ahead.

  “I understand you were drunk, but, well, you said some things that made me weary. You're a really good friend, and I don’t want to lose you.”

  His heavy breathing on the other end was all I could hear. My heart squeezed, hoping he understood what I was going to tell him.

  “I can’t be anything more to you than just a friend, and I hope you can accept that.”

  I waited for him to respond, but when he didn’t, I called out his name. He let out a frustrated breath.

  “Faith, I'm sorry I put all of that on you. I've had feelings for you for a long time, and I hated you being with Jason.”

  I was shocked at his confession, not the one where he had feelings for me, because he had made that clear, but he acted like Jason was a hero. “I always thought you liked Jason.”

  “No, I was envious because he had you, and I just wanted you to be happy. As long as I thought he was making you happy, I tolerated him.”

  I took the phone away from my ear, my mind was whirling. When I returned the phone back, he was still talking.

  “Now that I know you weren’t happy, I’m upset I didn’t try to steal you away sooner. I can make you happy. Please give me a chance. You can live with those guys until you feel comfortable enough to move in. We'll be an awesome couple.”

  The way he said those guys made it sound as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth. My temper rose, upset he would talk shit about the boys who had showed me nothing but kindness. I tried to harness it in before I spoke, reminding myself Trent was my friend.

  “Trent, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to date you. Ever. I don’t want to lose you, but if you can’t just be friends, then I don’t think we can continue talking to each other.” My head ached, and I wished I hadn’t answered the phone.

  “What the fuck? Are you just going to be some house-whore to be passed around when nobody else is willing to warm their bed?”

  No longer trying to keep my temper in check, I yelled into the phone. “Yes, I am, but instead of being passed around, we do it together at once. It saves time.”

  I was seething he would say something like that, and I realized I never really knew Trent, and again, I had terrible intuition when it came to people.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, desperately trying to repair the damage he just caused, making him sound eerily like Jason. “Fuck!” he yelled. “I’m sorry, you just make me so crazy, and I've been in love with you for so long that not being able to have a chance with you makes me insane. Please, Faith.”

  “Trent, never call me again. I can’t be your friend anymore. Goodbye.”

  As I hung up on him he screamed my name. Pouring out a handful of Tums, I chewed on them forcefully, reminding me of Amy and her ever-present candy.

  I stared at the blinking curser, as it waited for me to type something brilliant on the keyboard so it could copy it to the screen. Unable to get my groove back, I gave up.

  Snatching the brownie off my nightstand I ripped off the cellophane, taking a huge bite. It was a chocolate orgasm. I swallowed and took another bite, savoring it.

  My phone rang, Trent’s name flashing on the screen. I hit ignore and took another bite. My phone rang again, and I was frustrated. He not only took me out of my writing zone, but now he was ruining my perfect brownie moment.

  I snatched up my phone, “Stop calling me, I don’t want to talk to you ever again!”

  “Faith?” My dad’s voice was cautious.

  Fuck, why didn’t check my caller ID?

  “Hi Dad,” I replied, guilt evident in my voice. “Sorry, I've been getting harassed by a telemarketer, and I was trying to finish my paper. I'm kind of frazzled right now.” I crossed my fingers I had convinced him.

  “Assholes. I hate when they call. So, how have you been little girl?” he asked, and I let a couple more lies mingle with the truth.

  “Good, I got a new job, and I've been busy trying to finish everything I wanted to do during summer.”

  “You work too hard. Make sure Jason takes you somewhere nice.”

  My stomach seized when he mentioned Jason, causing me to reach for my handy dandy bottle of Tums.

  “What happened to your old job?”

  “Jessie got me a job at the bar she works at so I could get better tips. You know, for better shoes. Besides, I get to work with my best friend, which makes it fun.”

  “You work at a bar?” I heard the condemnation in his voice, and my heart sunk realizing I was disappointing yet another person in my life.

  “Yes dad, and I'm watched out for by a huge guy name Catcher, and Jessie and I work the same schedule.” I purposely left out the detail about my four new roommate/bodyguards.

  “How does Jason feel about this?”

  The frustration at how much I allowed Jason to rule my life simmered in my veins. “He has been traveling a lot for work, so I think he likes I'm not alone all of the time.”

  I wanted to tell my dad I didn’t give a flying fuck through a doughnut hole what Jason thought, but I was not ready for that talk. Afraid of what the stress would do to him if he knew the truth.

  “Well, as long as you're safe. Anything else new and exciting?”

  Well, I left my crazy abusive boyfriend and filed a restraining order against him; I left the job I had for years because my boss wanted me to live with the fucker; I got a job at a bar; I moved into a house with four boys, one of which causes my whole body to go haywire anytime he's near me; I was just screamed at by a guy I thought was my friend; and I have the best brownie in the world in front of me begging me to eat it. All of that went through my head as I tried to find some truth I could relay to him.

  “Nope, nothing much. Although, I did have the most amazing brownie today.”

  He chuckled, confirming I did the right thing by not telling him.

  “How have you been, Dad? I see Martha hasn’t killed you yet.”

  “No, I'm too clever for that woman to get me.”

  I heard Martha snort in the background and perked up.

  “Is she there?”

  My dad cleared his throat nervously. “I called you because I wanted to tell you Martha's moving in with me.”

  “What?” I yelled into the phone, doing a happy dance.

  My dad got the wrong impression from my outburst and tried to backpedal. "Well, she's here most of the time, and it just seemed more economical.”

  “Dad, I love Martha. I knew something was going on when the two of you disappeared at Christmas and came back flushed. I want you to be happy, and I'm so glad you found someone.”

  He let out the pent-up breath he'd been holding, and I heard Martha in the background. “I told you she would be fine with it. I'm going to get ready for lunch.”

  “Do you love her?” I asked, desperately wanting him to say yes. The thought of my dad being happy and loved made me feel at peace with some of my choices.

  “Yes, I do. Are you sure you're ok with this?” I could tell he was just as desperate for me to say yes to him.

  “Yes, dad, I'm happy for you. I always worried you were putting off finding someone because you were too busy dealing with me.”

  “You were never a chore, and although I wished you had a mom to help you for certain things, I wouldn’t have changed anything.”

  I felt those damn stupid tears prickle my eyes again,
but I pushed them back. Assholes. “I wouldn’t have changed it either. You're my rock, and now we can add Martha to the it's us against the world. It will be nice to have someone else to depend on.”

  “The four of us make a pretty damn good team, don’t we kiddo?”

  My stomach turned as he referred to Jason as the fourth in our group. “We're a good team,” I said, referring to the three of us.

  “Now, take that woman to eat, and I'll talk to you later.”

  “Ok, call me soon, alright? I love you.”

  A sad smile played on my face, knowing my dad would be taken care of by someone else. Even though Martha had been doing it for a while now, the passing of the torch was still painful.

  “I love you too. Tell Martha I love her, and I'm happy for you guys.”

  No longer in the mood to write, I wrapped the rest of my brownie up and went downstairs.

  When I made my way to the kitchen, all four boys were huddled together staring at the counter.

  Van had a confused look on his face, while D attempted to touch whatever had their attention. Jet stood behind D like he would pull him away if something went wrong. Kill's face was blank. They were so engrossed in whatever was on the counter they didn’t hear me walk in.

  “Whatcha guys doing?” I asked, causing them to jump.

  They had guilty looks on their faces, making the scene even more curious. “Why are all of you bunched together staring at dinner?”

  “What the fuck is it?” Jet cried, pointing at the crockpot. “Don’t get me wrong, it smells awesome, but I've never seen anything but a pot roast inside one of these things, and that definitely is not a pot roast.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing when they shook their heads in agreement, rallying behind Jet. “You guys are jackasses, and for your information it's a crockpot. You can make more than just pot roast in it. What you will be eating for dinner tonight is spaghetti.”

  They glared at the offending appliance, like it had somehow betrayed them by not telling them it could be versatile in its cooking ability.

  “Chickens,” I said, nudging past Jet to get the salad.

  Taking a diet Pepsi along with my meal, I didn’t acknowledge them as I went to the living room. I sat on the floor, and turned on the T.V. There was silence for a minute or two, before the boys started filling their plates.