Breaking Faith (The JackholeS Book 1)

by Joy Eileen

  “Young lady, I suggest you stay away from Jason since you were the one that took out the order. Go on to work, and please don’t confront the person you are afraid of.” He emphasized the last part, and I was so frustrated tears started to build in my eyes.

  “Thank you for nothing, Frank,” I hissed at him.

  “I will be calling the station to explain how horribly you handled this situation,” I said through clenched teeth. I turned to say something to Jason, but realized it was a lost cause and walked away.

  In my car, I watched Jason shake Frank’s hand before driving off. I was shaking, and I kept blinking the tears back, refusing to cry. I couldn’t believe how terribly wrong that had gone.

  Jason’s words haunted me. I wondered if anyone would believe me, Jason seemed to outsmart me at every turn.

  As I sat in my car, I realized something.

  I realized I didn’t give a shit if anyone believed me. I knew the truth. I knew who Jason really was, and he would never have me back in his life. I had the support of my misfit family and I didn’t need anything else.

  That realization made me feel lighter than I had since the fateful day Jason saved me from that irate customer. I didn’t need anyone to validate my choices. I was strong enough to validate myself.

  I wasn’t stupid. Jason was still up to something, of that I was sure. Next time, I would be ready for him. I wouldn’t let him get the better of me; I had learned my lesson tonight.

  Jason was limited in what he could do. He was stuck in the pretense he was living under. I, on the other hand, was free from limitations. I finally confronted him on the reality of our relationship, and that alone gave me the upper hand.

  In the parking lot of Ray’s, I felt a renewed determination to live my life without the shackles of Jason.

  Chapter 15

  By the time Jessie pulled up, my panic had subsided. I gathered my resolve, refusing to allow Jason to break me.

  Haze settled around the sun, bullying it until it submitted, no longer trying to warm the air. A tired waitress shuffled past us as we left the breakroom. She was a short Hispanic girl and even tired she was gorgeous.

  “Rough day, Misty?” Jessie asked.

  “Yeah, the baby's sick. I've been running on fumes,” she responded, looking over and noticing me for the first time.

  “Misty, this is my best friend, Faith. She just started.”

  “I should have recognized you. Ryan showed me the video of you singing, you were amazing. One of these nights I'll have to stay after so I can hear you sing.”

  My face heated, uncomfortable from the compliment. “Thank you. I’m just glad I didn’t fall on my ass,” I answered truthfully.

  Misty laughed. “It was nice meeting you, Faith.”

  “It was nice meeting you too, and if you can stay for the show tomorrow, I'm singing with the JackholeS.”

  Her mouth dropped open, “Kill's going to share the stage? You must be amazing. I don’t think he even likes to share the stage with the band.”

  Her look was skeptical as she eyed me up and down. My hackles rose as she badmouthed Kill, and from the assumption she had obviously made.

  “I live with the boys, and they've become family. When they heard me sing, they figured it would be a better idea for me to sing with them instead of having some moron girl with the wrong idea do the part.” My voice was sharp, wanting to express whatever she was thinking was wrong.

  Jessie got in the middle of us, breaking our eye contact. “Seriously, Misty, it isn’t like that and you need to get over your problem with Kill,” Jessie scolded her.

  Misty huffed and walked away. Jessie pulled me out to the bar to start our shift.

  “Why does she have it out for Kill?” I asked, ready to go after her to defend him. My confrontation with Jason had left me full of nervous energy, and I needed to expel it on someone.

  “I’m not sure. They fooled around, but that's most of Portland. Something happened between the two of them.”

  My stomach flopped from the reminder. The Kill everyone knew wasn’t the same Kill who rubbed my feet and brought me brownies. It was hard for me to see him as the man-whore everyone else knew.

  DJ Smoke pulled me out of my thoughts when he called my name. He pouted when I told him to fit me in after the boys showed up. His pout made him look like he was suffering from explosive diarrhea, instead of too adorable to deny.

  The night went by quickly. The antics onstage had me giggling when the familiar vibration in my apron stopped me. I discreetly checked my message, eager to see what Kill wanted. My smile faltered when I saw it was from Trent.

  The craziness of confronting Jason had made me forget he was coming by later. Resigned, I went over to Jessie while she waited for Ryan to finish her drink order.

  “Hey, I forgot to tell you, Trent's going to come have a drink tonight.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?” Jessie asked, her face filled with concern.

  “You had other things on your mind, if you don’t remember, and it slipped my mind until just now. I figured it would be safer to meet him here.”

  She twirled her hair, dissecting everything I had just said trying to find a hole in my logic.

  “It makes sense he would come here. I know you don’t want to end your friendship with him, but you need to be careful with him. I can’t see you hurting anymore; you've had your share of that for a lifetime.”

  Jessie took her tray as I gave Ryan my orders, annoyed with Jessie's observation.

  Sharp pains shot across my stomach as I worried about, well…. everything, I forced myself to take a deep breath, and threw myself back to work.

  A table of frat boys were trying to get my number, almost as desperately as I was trying to get their order. After wrangling their order from them, I turned around and ran right into Trent.

  “Hi. I wanted to get here sooner, but I was stuck in traffic,” he rambled.

  “Go find a seat, and I'll get your order in a second.”

  I practically ran past him. After seeing him my gut told me we were never going to be the same, or at least where I thought we were.

  Ryan leaned over the bar and kissed me on the forehead. “Hey Sexy, are you singing tonight?”

  “Yeah, I'm waiting for the boys to get here. I don't want to listen to them bitch if they missed it.”

  “Sexy and smart; will you have my baby?” she asked, causing a frumpy looking business man to spill beer down his cheek.

  “Sure thing,” I said.

  When I approached the frat boy table, I noticed the gleam in one of their eyes. I could tell he came from money and was used to getting his way. He was scrawny and dwarfed by his friends, but the confidence he exuded made up for what he lacked in surface area.

  “Here you go.” I reached across the table, keeping distance from the one with the gleam in his eyes.

  “Why don’t you stay and talk to us for a minute?” He came over to stand next to me, causing my stomach to spasm with pain.

  “Sorry, I have other tables. I'll come back and check on you in a little bit. Enjoy.”

  He grabbed my wrist squeezing it tightly.

  “I said you should stay and chat.” His voice was low, so he didn’t attract Catcher's attention.

  Memories of Jason flashed through my mind making me immobile. The determination I gathered in the parking lot shattered, paralyzing me as everything crashed down. I withered into myself, feeling pathetic I couldn’t tell this pitiful jerk to back off. He was a bully pretending to be a big shot in front of his friends.

  He ran his other hand down my arm, leaning in to whisper in my ear as the others around the table snickered uncomfortably. “I'm going to take you outside, and we're going to talk.”

  He pulled me toward the door, but thankfully, Catcher caught the panic in my eyes, and came toward us.

  Kill crashed through the door making his grand entrance before Jet. He passed Catcher running toward me. Kill pulled Frat
Boy away and tossed him to Catcher. Catcher motioned with his head for the others to get their stuff, eighty-sixing the group from the bar.

  Kill yelled at Jessie to watch my tables and hauled me down the hallway. In the breakroom, he sat me down in a chair and examined the newly formed bruise on my wrist.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, as he put both of his hands on my face, forcing me to meet his eyes.

  I nodded my head, afraid if I talked I would start crying.

  “Why the hell didn’t you kick that little twerp’s ass? He was smaller than you.”

  Kill removed his hands after I confirmed I was fine. He paced around like a caged animal, his hands fisted in his hair.

  The truth of his words made me flinch. Everyone in the bar saw me back down, and now Kill was rubbing it in. I was still allowing others to dictate my actions. I wasn’t as strong as I convinced myself in the car. Seeing Jason shook me to the core, and I sure as hell couldn't reveal that to Kill.

  “He caught me off guard. I'm so damn sorry you had to come to my rescue again. I didn't mean to ruin your night with this minor inconvenience, friend.”

  I stomped past him, not stopping until I reached the bathroom. Locked in a stall, I sat on the toilet with my elbows on my knees and my hands locked behind my head as I tried to pull the broken pieces floating around my body into some form of organization.

  Kill’s reaction hurt more than almost being accosted by some lowlife rich kid. Seeing how upset he was at my reaction reminded me I wasn’t good enough for him, or anyone for that matter.

  He obviously wanted me to get over Jason faster than I was. I yearned to be someone whole, not a broken girl who crumbled with the slightest provocation.

  Tears burned the back of my throat on a one-way track toward my eyes. Blinking like I had just walked into a dusty room, I tried to hold them back. Afraid if I cried it would officially ruin the night and there would be no saving it; why I was being optimistic was beyond me.

  I went way past my allotted break time, but I was proud I hadn’t shed a single tear.

  Bambi’s nasally voice echoed through the bathroom. “I'm so sick of the whole damsel-in-distress fucking act, it's getting so old,” she sneered.

  I hunkered back down in the stall, my stomach turned.

  “Ugh, I know. She has the whole bar wanting to protect her. It's sickening,” the other girl responded.

  “Kill feels bad for her; he thinks she's fragile, so we have to keep our relationship a secret. He thinks she has a crush on him because he's constantly saving her stupid ass.”

  “Oh my God! You and Kill are together?” Stupid Bitch, which was what I dubbed her since I needed to call her something, shrieked.

  If I hadn’t been so sick from hearing Kill felt sorry for me, I would have rolled my eyes at her reaction. I wanted to believe she knew I was in here and she was making everything up, but I no longer trusted my instincts.

  “Yes, but don’t tell anyone, he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings. Some girl, a long time ago, died and he can’t get over the hero complex he has going on. We don’t flaunt it. He doesn’t want to upset his fans by having a girlfriend. He was so upset she got herself into trouble again I promised to blow him in the parking lot later.”

  Bile rushed up my throat. I gagged quietly and my eyes watered from the burning acid being forced down.

  I was certain Kill didn’t tell people about his past, and Bambi knowing his secret made me doubt myself. Was he just fucking with me? Telling me about his sordid past to get me to trust him because I was playing hard to get? Was I just a game to him?

  I was stupid to think Kill was different from what I had heard about him. I had convinced myself he was someone else because I wanted him to be.

  Kill was just using Bambi for any available orifice and would be done with her soon. Hell, he was already on the move, playing whatever game he was playing with me. She was stupid if she thought she could change him into the perfect boyfriend; something I was afraid we may have in common.

  Bambi and Stupid Bitch giggled, and talked about her sexual escapades with Kill before finally leaving.

  I washed my hands and splashed water on my face, wanting to get rid of the numbness that was spreading throughout my body as soon as I heard Kill’s name come out of Bambi’s mouth.

  Pushing my shoulders back I gave myself a pep talk. I knew what he was before I met him, and this confirmation was the slap in the face I needed. In all honesty, I was falling hard for Kill, and I needed to get my feelings in check.

  I wasn’t convinced Bambi was telling the truth. She knew more than I expected, but it was Bambi. I wanted to talk to Kill. He was pissed the last time I listened to some skank without talking to him.

  Back in the bar, I refused to show anyone I was beaten down by anything that had happened tonight. Bambi was talking to Kill, and he was laughing at whatever she was telling him. They got up and went toward the back entrance.

  I wanted to run back into the bathroom and beat my fists against the tiled walls. I didn't know what was real anymore. They walked past me, and I refused to make eye contact.

  I went over to Ryan; wanting to pull my weight.

  My progress halted when familiar arms wrapped around my waist. The electricity that always accompanied Kill's touch was missing, but the unimaginative tattoos gave Robert away. I spun around as he tried to look charming and almost pulled it off.

  Robert reminded me of diet soda; at first it almost tastes like a soda, and you are rooting for it to pull it off, but right before it reaches real soda taste, it misses the mark and you're disappointed.

  “Hey, Faith, remember me?” he asked, knowing full well I did, but not for the reasons he was thinking.

  “Uhm, Rodger, right?” I said, purposely getting his name wrong.

  His smile deflated, but rallied back. “Robert, but you can call me anything you want if it gets you to keep talking to me.”

  He flashed that overconfident smile, and I wanted to tell him to give it up because he would never do it for me. The reminder of Kill and Bambi walking out of the bar made me rethink my stance on Robert.

  “How did you know I would be here?” I asked, trying to look coy.

  His lids went heavy so I must have done it right. “Your friend mentioned you worked here the other night. I wanted to see you again and ask you out.”

  He put on a sad face. DJ Smoke should take some lessons from him. Instead of turning him down like I should, I decided to get Kill out of my head.

  “I'm off on Monday, would that work?”

  Normally I wasn't this brazen, but I knew nothing would come from this. Robert was just a distraction. Robert’s smile went into full wattage, right before someone bumped into him, causing him to stumble into me. His hands went to my shoulders to catch himself.

  Trent stormed out of the bar, his drink and food barely touched. Guilt surged through me. I agreed to go out with Robert right in front of Trent; bad friend etiquette on my part.

  “Are you ok?” Robert asked, running his hands up and down my arms, eliciting nothing, not even a spark.

  “Yeah, I'm fine. Go take a seat. I have to get back to work. I took a long break, but I'll be around and we can finalize our plans.”

  Needing a moment to get everything in perspective, I walked away before he could respond.

  Ryan had a concerned look on her face when I reached her. “So who's the douche with the bad tattoos?”

  I laughed, loving her for not making a big deal out of what happened earlier.

  “Some guy I met at The Note. He asked me out, and I think I'm going.”

  She lifted her pierced eyebrow, and I reached over the bar to swat her arm.

  “He's safe. I have no feelings for him. So it would be like a date with training wheels.”

  “Well, the bike's in good condition, but the decals are fucking awful.”

  Robert had taken residence at the table Trent vacated. He waved at me, his hideous tattoos taunting me
from afar. I turned and bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing. Ryan laughed full out, with no cares about who was watching her.

  Grabbing my tray, I delivered drinks to my tables. I avoided the boys' table, knowing Jessie would keep them refilled. Besides, she owed me for ignoring Van most of the other night.

  After I got my section in order and everyone refreshed, I made my way over to Robert.

  “So what can I get you?” I asked, pulling out my pad of paper just in case he wanted something from the kitchen.

  “Your phone number,” he replied without a pause.

  I smiled at him, wondering if his charms ever really worked. Although I couldn’t judge since I willingly agreed to go on a date with him.

  I scribbled my number on the pad, slapping it down on the table. “That was easy. Now, what can I get you to drink?”

  He ordered a margarita, saying he wanted to hang out and watch me work. I wandered over to the bar, checking on my other tables to make sure they had everything they needed.

  An older man was hitting on Ryan as she batted her lashes, mystifying him while he was filling out his receipt. The confusion on his face made it clear he was going to tip her heftily; his brain not focusing on math.

  I waited down at the end of the bar while Ryan worked her magic. She skipped over to me, causing a couple of the guys at the bar to have heart palpitations.

  “What do you need, sexy?”

  I gave her my order, smirking at her. She knew full well what she was doing to the customer’s sensibilities.

  “So are you going to ignore those boys all night? Because Kill keeps looking at you, and I'm afraid he's going to throw you over his shoulder caveman-style if you keep it up.”

  I refused to look over at them, knowing if I saw his face there would be no resistance.

  “He's worried about me after the little scene earlier," I said, trying to shrug it off.

  “I'm just glad he was in the parking lot when I text him,” Ryan explained, as she yelled at Dax in the kitchen.