Fighting Faith (2 page)

“I don’t know. I read a lot of interviews, watched MTV all the time growing up. In high school, I had almost all the back issues of Rolling Stone, read every one, cover to cover, but my mom threw them out.”

“You’re kidding. Why would she do that?” Daniel asked.

“She said I was becoming a packrat and wasting my time on crap. I cried for days,” she said, tears filling her eyes at the memory. “We don’t get along very well,” she added.

“I remember when she did that,” Jose said, nodding. “We took you out and got you shitfaced.

Do you remember?”

“Not very well.” What she did remember was her ex-boyfriend, Taylor, leaving her sitting on her front steps, too drunk to know she was home.

“So tell me another good one,” Tim said.

“What, a quote?”

“Yeah.”

She thought a moment, searching her mind for something memorable. “I don't want you to play me a riff that's going to impress Joe Satriani— give me a riff that makes a kid want to go out and buy a guitar and learn to play. Mr. Ozzy Osbourne.”

“I’ve heard that one,” Daniel said. “I like it.”

Jose checked his cell phone. “Hey, it’s getting late. We’d better get back.”

“Should we get something for Hitler?” They all laughed at her.

“You don’t pull any punches, do you?” Daniel asked.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” she said. “No sense lying to people just so they feel better about themselves.

“He’s really not that bad, in fact, I’d describe him as a nice guy,” Tim said. “I don’t know why you bring out the worst in him.”

“Yeah, well, there are two sides to that coin: he brings out the worst in Faith too,” said Jose.

She snorted. “I’ve seen enough to know there isn’t enough good side to make up for bad with that one. The guy’s an asshole.”

“Well, I’m going to grab Hitler, the asshole, a burger and fries.” Jose stood and headed for the counter.

Alone in the studio, Eric balanced his acoustic guitar over his knee and strummed mindlessly.
Original, find a rhythm all your own
. Eyes closed, he let his fingers lead the way, but everything he started came back to what he already knew. He tried again, humming this time, hoping something would take him over. It was so close, almost there, but the longer he played, the more it sounded like something else.

His knuckles banged the guitar’s soundboard. “Damn it!”

“Don’t focus so hard.” Eric’s head whipped up to find Faith, her camera fixed on him.

“Relax. When you’re not concentrating on it, you’ll find it.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” He stood and slammed his guitar against the floor, wincing when he felt the reverberation reach his hand.

Her eyebrows rose and she stared at the guitar. “I was in the back going over some footage when I heard you playing.”

“So now you’re spying on me?” It wasn’t quite what he meant, but the shock of finding he wasn’t alone had him by the throat. The idea that someone might be watching, much less filming his frustration, pissed him off. “Am I going to have to look over my shoulder constantly with you around? This isn’t a reality show, you know.” Faith snapped the LCD screen into place and turned the camera off. “Just thought I might catch something worthwhile with my handheld since I was still here. Apparently, I was wrong.

Looks like this is going to be a paint-by-numbers gig for me. Bummer.” She grinned. If only he could wipe it off her face.

“Don’t give up your town-whore day job. I have a feeling your film talent is overrated, and you’ll fizzle out before you even finish this
gig
.” There, it was gone.

“Town whore?”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve heard plenty of stories about you and your tramping around.” His mind scrambled to concoct a story, should she ask for one, but the blush on her face said there was at least one story she wanted to hide. He couldn’t leave it alone, feeding on her anxiety.

“This town isn’t
that
big, you know, and the good things always get around.” It took a moment, but she recovered. “Jealousy is an ugly creature, Eric. If you had my kind of talent and stories, I doubt you’d be dangling from the bottom rung of the music industry ladder. Every time you slam that guitar, your fingers slip a little more.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out the door. Fists coiled at his side, Eric kicked the closest thing, the stool he perched on moments before. It hit the floor, spinning in circles until it crashed against Jose’s drum set, the leg poking a hole through the face of the bass.

He squeezed his eyes shut. As if things weren’t bad enough, he now had to explain the damage when everyone, including Faith, showed up in the morning.

The sudden violence in his temper alarmed him.
A lover, not a fighter
was his motto, not that he couldn’t kick some ass if he had to, but lashing out in a physical manner wasn’t normal for him. It was all her. Whenever Faith was near, he was restless, like he needed to be doing something physical. Fucking her was always the foremost urge, followed by running away, and then the desire to punch holes in anything at hand.
I need to get laid
. The sooner, the better.

***

The laughter and music at Bernie’s made a good distraction. For a Wednesday night, the place had a descent crowd, and it didn’t take Eric long to find what he wanted. She was beautiful and made his cock hard the minute he saw her. It didn’t bother him she talked so much— she babbled on while he imagined bending her over his couch, clenching her hips as he rammed her pussy until she shut up and screamed his name.

“My girlfriends and I always catch your shows.” She bounced on her barstool. “You guys are so great; I just know you’re going to be famous one day. My friend Jenny has a major crush on your drummer. Last week we went shopping, and do you know, she bought a see-through tank-top just to wear to your guy’s show? She thinks if he gets a glimpse of her tits, she can get him in bed.” The woman’s lips moved, and Eric felt his own grin, but all he could think about was shoving his dick in her mouth. Even in his imagination, she kept on talking around his cock.

It didn’t matter, she was hot, and he could tune her out.

He flagged the bartender down and ordered them each another drink. When he handed the woman her drink, she stared at him expectantly. In tuning her out, Eric must have missed a question. Apparently, interaction on his part would be required after all. “Yes,” he said with a wince. What was he agreeing with or to?

She swiped at his arm. “Silly. Did you even hear me? I asked when you guys play again.” The question proved her declaration she never missed a show, false. If she was as loyal as she claimed, she would know they were done playing locally, something he shared with the audience on multiple occasions. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t after a devout fan, just a good fuck.

“We play next week over in Greensboro.” It wasn’t worth the energy to tell her the truth.

As she jumped off her stool to expound with great animation on her plans to drag her friends to the show, Eric glimpsed Jose and Tim over her shoulder.

“Well, would you look at you two, getting along and even hanging out?” Jose slapped the woman on the ass. He did a double-take when she rounded to face him. “Holy shit, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. Damn, you look so much like—” Eric’s enthusiasm for the woman vanished before she started. “Oh my God. It’s you! The drummer. I’ve got to find Jenny. She will absolutely die when she sees you.” Her head bobbed and weaved, looking around the bar.

Jose stared at Eric, his eyes growing larger the longer the woman rambled. The seat of the stool spun as Eric slid off. He put his hand on Jose’s shoulder and leaned in close. “I’m really sorry, dude. I owe you one.” Jose’s mouth dropped as Eric walked toward the door. Behind him, the woman repeated the story of the see-through shirt.

***

In the room, lit only by the glow of the computer, Faith sat mesmerized, as a tormented onscreen Eric sought the inspiration just out of his reach. Even in the replay, she silently prodded him, knowing it was there, waiting for discovery. When Faith zoomed in on the image, his full lips twitched in agony until he started to hum. His gaze lifted, and even now in the video, she could see the intense concentration slightly veiled by his dark lashes.

She hit
rewind
after he slammed the guitar to the floor, back to the few minutes she caught him unaware of her presence. Without thinking, her hand slid to her thigh, her fingers playing along the inseam of her jeans. Higher and higher they traced. When her fingers brushed along her crotch, Faith’s breath hitched. Onscreen, Eric licked his lips and Faith dug her nail along the thick stitching along her slit, but yanked her hand away when she realized she was doing it.

On the desk, her cell phone pulsated and she jumped, as though caught in the act. Full of guilt, she answered, mocking a drowsy voice.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sugar tits, what’s going on?”

Faith recognized the voice and smiled. “Jeremy. Just sitting around, trying to decide what I should say I’m wearing in case you called.”

“And?”

She leaned back and lifted her feet to the desk, crossing one ankle over the other. “A black lace bra and matching panties.” His frustrated growl made her grin.

“Girl, you’re gonna kill me one of these days. As much as I love our little chats that leave me a blue-balled monster, it’s not the reason I’m calling.” Her fingers stopped playing with the button of her jeans and went back to the computer.

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so bummed, ya tease. You and I both know you’ll never go through with it.” He chuckled, and Faith sighed. “But don’t feel bad. I’ve got news that will have you floating on the ceiling.”

Even from the little time she spent with the man, she could tell he was giddy with excitement. “Oh yeah? What’s up?”

“Well, I told you I was going to be working with Blind Cats on their new video, right?”

“Yes, you mentioned it.” The last time they talked, Faith couldn’t get a word in over Jeremy’s elation.

“Well, I pitched you to the producers, and they want you.” The desk corner scratched her ankle as her feet dropped to the floor. She perched on the edge of the chair. “What do you mean, they want me?”

“I showed them your videos, and they want you to fly out here and work on the Blind Cats production. You can stay with me while you’re here, and you don’t have to thank me. I’ll make a list of ways you can repay me.”

She stared at Eric on the computer screen, unsure of how to answer.

“I knew you’d be speechless.”

The screensaver flashed on and Faith jabbed at the spacebar to bring the image back.

“Wow, th…that’s incredible, Jeremy. I don’t know what to say, but— but I think I have to pass.” After a moment of silence, Jeremy said, “What do you mean, ‘pass’?” She hit the mute button on the computer and started the video again. “I’m in the middle of a project right now, and it could take a few months. I really don’t have time to come to California.”

“What, you’re in the middle of a two month wedding video? Are you fucking kidding me? Drop whatever it is, and get your ass out here.”

“I can’t. It won’t wait, and I don’t want to drop it.”

“This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for, Faith. Chances like this don’t come along every day, you know?”

“I know,” she rose and walked to the kitchen. “But I have another opportunity, right here at home.”

“Not as good as this one. Jesus, Faith. Are you kidding me?” She pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator, pressed it to her flushed cheek, and then rolled it under her hair to the back of her neck. “It might be. I don’t know yet, but I have a feeling about this.”

“What’s going on?”

Even after she explained what she was doing for Utopian Society, she knew Jeremy couldn’t understand what she felt in her gut. She also knew he wouldn’t forgive her refusal any time soon.

“This is going to make me look like a fool. I told them you’d be here within a week.”

“I’m sorry, Jeremy, but you really should have asked me first.”

“Why? Only an idiot would pass this up.”

“Now I’m an idiot? Trust me; it’ll be me telling you, ‘I told you so,’ not the other way around. These guys are going to be huge.”

“What makes you so sure?”

The video started again when she clicked the play button. “Just a gut feeling. They’re on the verge of a breakthrough, and I want to be here when it happens. I want to capture it.”

“Take the night and think about it, Faith. I don’t want you kicking yourself for letting this go, okay? I’ll wait until tomorrow afternoon to say anything to these guys.”

“My mind is made up. A night’s not going to change that.”

“Damn it, Faith.”

The phone beeped to signal an incoming text. “I gotta go, Jeremy. I have another call.

Thanks for thinking of me and I’ll talk to you soon.” She hung up before he could reply and checked her texts.

Want sum veggies from my mom?
Sarah hated the fresh vegetables her mother pushed on her all summer.

Sure
. She hit send and set the phone back on the desk. Eric’s face stared back at her from the computer screen.
You’d better show me something, you little prick, something besides your
arrogance, or I will kick your ass to California myself.

Chapter
Three

Morning dew clung to the bushes and showered Eric as he brushed past them, descending the steps to Faith’s deck. A pair of clippers would go a long way to clearing the place up. It was so thick with growth there was almost no view left. It figured the stupid bitch preferred to be surrounded by flowers than the glory of the mountain vistas. Eric couldn’t decide if his hostility toward her shrubbery was based on the shrubbery itself, or his intense dislike of Faith. It didn’t matter; he didn’t want to be here, period.

Just give her the stupid bag and get the fuck out
. The less time he spent around her, the better. Only a week in the studio with her stalking their every move had him at his wits end. He approached the sliding glass doors and raised his hand to knock, but Faith appeared from the side of the house. She jumped when she saw him and slapped her hand to her chest.