Breaking Faith (The JackholeS Book 1)

by Joy Eileen

  “Yeah, D had an idea about one of their songs. He wants me to sing second vocal in it, and we're trying it out tonight.” I toyed with the empty shot glass in front of me, embarrassed at the attention.

  “You're going to rock it,” Denise told me, as her smile widened.

  “I hope so.”

  “You need another,” Ryan said, taking the empty shot glass and refilling it.

  I stared at the tiny glass while listening to Kill. He had the crowd in an uproar just by singing to them. With the pandemonium as a background, I took the shot, letting it slide down my throat, the sweetness lost on me. I implored the alcohol to do its job before I was up.

  The boys announced they had a surprise for everyone when they came back from their break. The crowd went wild, curious about what the band had in store for them. I took the orders for my tables. With the alcohol burning through my veins I felt relaxed, even with my performance looming closer.

  Every table I waited on had people whispering conspiratorially. They were all discussing what the surprise would be, some of the wilder predictions had me giggling.

  The boys beamed at me. Well, all except Van, he was too busy staring at Jessie as she delivered his beer. “Thanks babe,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  Amy burst in looking rushed, the licorice in her mouth bounced as she ran over to the table. “Did I miss it?” she asked around her candy.

  “Nope, you're just in time, Candy.” Jet grabbed Amy and opened his mouth, guiding the licorice sticking out of her mouth into his until their lips touched.

  My stomach churned, reminding myself I could fail miserably soon.

  “Stop thinking,” Kill whispered, pulling me out of my panicked thoughts. “If you keep thinking, I'll make Ryan shove more shots down your throat.”

  I looked over at Ryan who was making drinks for the crowded bar.

  “No more drinks, my lips are numb,” I said, pressing my lips together repeatedly to see if I could get feeling into them.

  “You aren’t too drunk to sing, are you?” D asked, freaked out as he watched me.

  “Nope, I'm fine,” I answered, looking over at him, then added “I hope.”

  D groaned hitting his forehead on the table. Before he could go for another round, Kill put his hand between his forehead and the table, pushing it up when it connected.

  “She's fine. Stop worrying. If you worry, she'll worry.”

  “Sorry, Faith.”

  “It’s fine, I have to get back to work. I'll see you boys up there.”

  Jet surfaced from Amy’s face long enough to put his hand out for a high five. Van gave me an encouraging hug while his eyes tracked Jessie’s ass through the bar.

  When the boys got back onstage, the bar was filled to capacity. I assumed everyone text their friends to say the JackholeS had something special planned for tonight.

  The whole bar gyrated and bounced as Kill sang. For a second I considered another drink, but then they began playing a song I knew by heart. The reason I knew it so well was because I played it over and over again when I was younger.

  Kill sang the first verse of 'Gotta Have Faith'. The music was low, and Kill’s voice caused my whole body to break into spontaneous goose bumps. I caught on fire when he whispered into the microphone he had to have me. The beat picked up, and the crowd chanted my name.

  My body felt heavy, as if I was wading through the thick air again. Until I locked eyes on Kill, and time went into overdrive. I reached up to him, and he hauled me up onstage. The whole bar was electric.

  Kill put his arm around me and pulled me close. His scent was stronger, mixed with sweat from performing, and it was intoxicating.

  “This is Faith.”

  A shiver ran through me when my real name rolled off of his tongue.

  “If you haven’t heard about her, then where the fuck have you been?” he yelled into the microphone, making the crowd go wild.

  I let out a nervous laugh at their reaction.

  “She has agreed to get up here with our stupid asses and sing with us. So be nice to her.” He kissed the top of my head, letting me go, so we could take our places on either side of the microphone.

  “I hope I don’t screw this up,” I said quietly, but the stupid microphone magnified it throughout the bar.

  Cat calls and encouragements came from the crowd, boosting my confidence. Kill winked at me. Van started the beat, getting the band in sync. I closed my eyes, letting the music flood through me. When Kill began singing my eyes flew open.

  The combination of being so close to him while people watched us was heady. The bar pulsated as people sang along since it was a revamped JackholeS song.

  My eyes were fastened on Kill’s, and his stayed glued on mine. Even with the deafening noise level, I was still able to get lost in him, forgetting everyone else.

  When the song ended, Kill put his arm around me, and Jet and D came running over, jumping around me like puppies. Jet grabbed the microphone with a huge smile on his face. “Wasn’t she fucking awesome?”

  The bar clapped and screamed, and it was exhilarating. I smiled and waved at the crowd while making my way offstage.

  “If you liked that, then you should come back tomorrow for her encore performance,” Kill announced as I walked through the crowd.

  People clamored to talk to me, and others asked for pictures. It was overwhelming, and I was reeling, wondering how the boys dealt with the constant attention.

  When I made it to the bar, Ryan clapped, and I turned an even brighter shade of red. Some of the residents at the bar turned to see what had Ryan's attention. When they saw me, they clapped along with her.

  I ducked my head, wishing they would stop. Kill was singing again, taking the vagina-owning crowd's attention away from me.

  When the boys finished their set, Kill talked to the crowd and calmed them, but kept their adrenaline pumping. They were mauled by their fans, vying for their attention when they hopped offstage.

  We shut the bar down as soon as last call was announced. Most of the crowd lumbered out, laughing and smiling, or letting the drama of their lives be vented into the night air. Catcher herded the lingering patrons out.

  The three of us put the bar back together as Bambi flirted with Kill. Jessie made sure Bambi kept a large enough distance from Van.

  Amy came over eating a Milky Way. When she reached us, I snatched the hand midway to her mouth, and took a bite. She smiled, happily feeding me sugar.

  “Who’s the skank?” she asked, pointing the rest of her candy toward Bambi, not trying to hide who she was talking about.

  Denise laughed out loud while Jessie shushed her.

  “That’s, Bambi. She's an awful waitress and even worse person,” Denise answered, also not trying to be quiet.

  Amy nodded, agreeing with Denise’s description.

  “What are we talking about?” Ryan asked, while we tried to keep Amy and Denise quiet as they continued discussing Bambi.

  “The skank hanging all over Kill,” Amy answered.

  Ryan laughed, plunking down on an empty chair next to me and leaning back against it to stretch her back.

  “I don't understand what the hell's going on between the two of them. I know he got her the job, but I don't get why he puts up with her,” Ryan said, as she extended her hand out to Amy. “Ryan, bartender.”

  Amy shook her hand. “Amy, best friend of these two.” She pointed at me and Jessie. “And also humping Jet every chance I get.”

  “It's nice to finally meet someone who can keep up with Jet. Two down and two to go.” Ryan said, looking over at the boys.

  Bambi said something while bouncing on her toes, causing her cemented after-markets to almost move. We followed Ryan's gaze to see if her penetrating eyes would pull something out of him. He looked over at us, feeling our gazes on him. Kill raised his eyebrow and puckered his lips to one side. Unlike the last time, none of us looked away, all of us searching for answers.

  He came o
ver to us, and we blatantly watched his progress, no one speaking, just observing. Bambi stared at his retreating back and stalked off to the breakroom, whipping off her apron.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, kneading his hands into my shoulders and making me melt into the chair.

  “Almost, but if you keep that up, you'll never get me home.”

  “Ok, but I'll continue when we get home.” He squeezed my shoulders one last time before going back to the boys.

  “Holy shit. What's going on between you two?” Ryan asked, looking over at Kill and me.

  “Shut up Ryan, please,” I begged.

  “Just be careful. I've known Kill for a long time, and he's not the commitment type. Just don’t get too caught up in it,” Ryan whispered in my ear, once we had the bar shut down.

  Before leaving, we went in to tell Ray goodbye since he had been holed up in his office all night. I walked back to the breakroom trying to find Kill. After changing and still not seeing him, I went outside. He wasn't by the car, and dread washed over me.

  Under the light in the parking lot, I watched Kill climb out of Bambi’s car as she hopped out and ran around the car, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. She let go and got into her car, waving as she backed away.

  I swallowed the bile as reality hit. I had just seen Bambi and Kill together doing exactly what she described in detail in the bathroom. Why the fuck would he tell me he wanted more when I was ready? All I could come up with was he wasn’t used to having to chase a girl and he was enamored with the challenge.

  I knew he wasn’t relationship material, even though he kept asking me to give him a chance. The proof of his unchanging behavior was right in front of me. Ryan’s stark reminder rang in my ears.

  I blinked into the night air, refusing to let the tears threatening to fall leave my eyes. I knew who he was.

  “Are you ok, Slick?” He put his arm around my shoulder, and as much as I wanted to, I didn’t pull away, I reminded myself we were friends.

  “Yeah, I'm just tired, the alcohol's wearing off, and all I want is my bed.”

  I let him lead me to his car and help me get in. I leaned the seat back and closed my eyes before he got behind the wheel. He started the engine, but didn’t put it in gear I tried to slow my breathing to make it look like I had fallen asleep. He sighed and rested his hand on my thigh as he drove us home.

  I forced the tears back. His hand on me felt right, and I couldn’t keep taking comfort from someone who wasn’t safe for my heart. When we got to the house, I was half asleep, getting out of the car and making it up to my room seemed impossible.

  “We're home,” he whispered in my ear, causing chills to run through me.

  “I know. I'm too tired to move,” I said leaning toward him until his lips met my ear.

  He chuckled, climbing out of the car. I didn’t open my eyes and hoped my toes wouldn't freeze off. Kill opened my door like I knew he would, saving my toes from detachment.

  He leaned in with his patented half-grin. After he unbuckled me, he put his arm under my legs. “Put your arms around my neck,” he said, making my sleepy body hum from his touch.

  The alcohol relaxed me enough my muscles felt liquid. He lifted me up with no trouble, and I got a sense of how strong he was. I put my head on his shoulder as he took me into the house. The boys were on the couch. Amy and Jessie made a surprised sound when they saw us.

  “Is she ok?” D asked as he came toward us.

  “Yeah, she just had too much to drink, and the adrenaline's wearing off.”

  Someone touched my forehead, and Kill jerked me away. “She’s fine, D.”

  “Calm down, Kill, we're just worried about her like you are,” Van said, still on the couch.

  “I know. I’m just tired,” Kill responded, sighing. “I'm going to get her to bed. See you later.”

  “Do you need to wash your face or anything?” he asked.

  I shook my head on his shoulder, knowing I would regret it in the morning. He carried me into my room and pulled the covers back, putting me in. He took my shoes off, and my body felt like lead. I fumbled and unbuttoned my jeans, lifting my hips so he could peel them off.

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

  I drug my eyelids over my eyes trying to focus on him. The alcohol running through my body made me lethargic.

  “Slick, I can’t.” He trailed off.

  I let my hips hit the mattress, too tired to keep them up. “Fine, I'll sleep in my jeans,” I said, my voice was slurred and close to a whisper, unable to exert enough force to make it audible.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, as he ran his hands through his hair. “Lift up.”

  His face had a pained expression as I lifted up. He grasped my jeans and took them off, throwing them on the dresser as he walked out. I got the covers up to my waist before letting my arms drop to my side.

  I drifted off to sleep when I felt something warm and wet on my face. Struggling to swat it away, Kill stopped me.

  “Sshh, I'm just wiping your face.”

  He had just claimed another piece of my broken heart. Was there any reason to put it back together since he seemed to be claiming it one piece at a time? As his retreating footsteps faded, I called out before he reached the door.

  “Kill?” He stopped, but didn’t respond.

  Stopping myself from asking him something dangerously stupid, I finished lamely. “Never mind, good night.”

  My door clicked shut, he took off his shoes and crawled into bed. He guessed what I wanted to ask him, without having to vocalize it. I put my head on his chest breathing him in.

  “You left your jeans on,” I whispered, not wanting to shatter the moment by speaking too loud.

  “Yep,” he responded “Go to sleep. I'm really proud of you. You were amazing tonight, our male fan base just tripled from seeing your sexy ass up there.”

  I wanted to argue with him but I was unable to form words, I laid there with him in the darkness, feeling safe and whole.

  In the morning my head rested on my pillow instead of nestled on Kill’s chest. I considered maybe last night wasn’t real, and he walked out of the room only to have me shift into a dream where he stayed.

  My head ached, and my stomach felt like I swallowed acid. I leaned over and chewed on a handful of Tums from my nightstand drawer. When I leaned back onto my pillow I got a hint of Kill’s smell lingering on it. Unabashedly, I pressed my nose into it, inhaling the haunting scent.

  Uncertain if he stayed last night, or if his scent was just hovering from his time in my bed while he worked on his notebook. With slow, measured movements I got up, giving the Tums time to do their job. When I didn’t have a sharp pain shoot across my belly, I inhaled, deeply relieved.

  My phone beeped deep from within the bottom of my messenger bag on my dresser next to my jeans. Thoughts of Kill removing my jeans invaded my brain. My Ray’s shirt barely passed my belly button. I was comforted when I saw I was wearing a purple boy shorts with pink polka dots spattered across them.

  Retrieving my phone from the recesses of my bag, my mood soured.

  Hey sexy, It’s Robert.

  I'm looking forward

  to Monday. What time

  can I pick you up?

  I conjured up excuses to get out of it, but I figured there was no harm in one date, as long as he understood there would be no repeat.

  I made a mad dash to the bathroom, not bothering to put my pants on, anxious for a shower. The hot water soothed my tight muscles into submission. Reluctantly, I pulled myself out and wrapped my pink towel around me. I opened the door and got ready for another short dash to my room when I ran straight into Kill.

  “Easy there,” he chuckled before taking a slow perusal of my body still damp from my shower. “I’ll go make coffee.”

  He let go of me and rushed downstairs as if the hounds of hell were chasing him and making progress. I watched him until he disappeared, mystified by his reaction,
but when it came to Kill, that seemed to be the norm.

  The light blue dress I put on cinched in the middle, making my waist look small, so of course it was one of my favorites. I brushed my hair and put it in a loose braid before heading downstairs barefoot, not having anywhere to go.

  Kill was in his usual spot, and my heart warmed when I saw him finishing his protein shake. I went straight to the coffee pot. While putting the creamer back in the fridge, I realized a grocery trip looked to be in my near future.

  I sat next to Kill and sipped my coffee, watching him as he toyed with his empty glass, looking uncomfortable. Fear rose in me, afraid he would tell me I was too much trouble and needed to leave.

  “I have to go grocery shopping, is there anything special you want me to get?” I blurted out louder than I expected, causing him to jerk his head up and out of whatever he was thinking about.

  “I’ll go with you,” he replied quickly. His face was expressionless, making my stomach knot when his famous half-smile didn’t appear.

  “You don’t have to; I mean you probably have better things to do than go grocery shopping.” I rambled. I snapped my mouth shut, afraid I was making it worse.

  “I have nothing else to do, and it would be nice to get out of the house for a while. Finish your coffee and we'll go. We can take Jet’s truck so we can load it up.” He winked at me and the half-smile finally appeared, making my shoulders relax.

  I chastised myself for being so paranoid, reminding myself Kill’s thoughts didn’t revolve around me. When I finished my coffee, he took our cups to the sink to wash them out. “Go get ready, I’ve got this.”

  I nodded my head to his back and walked upstairs to grab my shoes and bag. My phone blinked, announcing I had another text. It was from Robert again, and I chewed another handful of Tums while I read it.

  I just got reservations for

  my favorite restaurant at

  six-thirty. Where do you

  live, so I can pick you up?

  Anger welled up in me, in a weak moment I'd made a decision I was now dreading. I wanted to text him back, explaining I'd made a huge mistake. Picturing Kill getting out of Bambi’s car made a life-sabotaging mood sweep over me.