Forbidden Faith Read online

Page 2


  “He made me happy! Happier than I have ever been,” I yell at him as I walk into the great room. Whoever said this was a great room had to be joking; this was no great room—this was a room from hell.

  “That boy was a con artist, Faith. He wouldn’t know the first thing about making you happy.”

  I turn around and glare at him. “You only want me to be with someone with money.”

  He blows up and shouts, “You bet your life I do! You’re better than that trailer trash!”

  The air just got sucked out of me. How can this man be my father? How on earth was I ever supposed to follow in his footsteps when he’s nothing more than an asshole?

  I know I am pushing it when I confess to my father about how I really feel; my fists are clenched at my sides when I hiss at him, “I have never known anyone so shallow. That’s the one thing I have always hated about you.”

  His face explodes with red. “How dare you speak to me that way!”

  He slaps me—hard; it’s painful. I can already feel his hand making a mark on my cheek.

  My phone alarm wakes me up. I am sweating from the nightmare I’ve had for the past five years. It won’t leave me alone; the past haunts me daily, my fathers hand has never left my cheek and Lucas hasn’t left my heart. It hurts too much to think about that day; I have never been the same person since the moment he rode off with my fathers check in hand. Realizing he entered my life just for money was the worst day of my existence. How could I have been so gullible, so clueless? I should have known Lucas was only out to get one thing from me, yet I was too blinded by his hot looks, tattoos, piercings and bad boy, rocker personality—the complete opposite of my dad. He never gave me any reasons to believe he was using me; he was giving, sweet, hard working and I thought he loved me. We promised we would always have each others back, to support one another through the good and the bad. When he walked out of my life all the promises we’d spoken went out the door with him. From that day on I haven’t been able to trust a single guy; the two men who I thought loved me ruined my chance at happiness—poor Phillip is dating a dead end. My heart can no longer love—it no longer feels, it’s beating in my chest, but it is dead.

  I take a shower, style my hair into a side braid and change into my black pencil skirt, gray blouse and black pumps. I apply my makeup, gloss my lips and head out of the hotel room I’ve called home for the last six months. After graduating from San Diego State University with a business degree, I took on my very first project. Even though my father and I are not on good terms, he still expected me to take over the family business. On many occasions I tried to get him to back off. I didn’t want anything to do with him back then or now. However he found me an opportunity that I couldn’t turn down. By taking on this particular project, the only thing he expected of me was to keep the family name alive. Despite loathing him I agreed. I am following the family name and keeping the business going by refurbishing the inside of an old hotel that I renamed: Montgomery Suites. It’s located on 3rd avenue in downtown San Diego. I settled for this job because I love designing and I love old hotels. Plus I enjoy taking on a challenge. My father knows I’ll never return to Arizona—not after what he did to me. By taking this job I didn’t have to be near him, or be in the same state as him. So I did what I thought was best for me and accepted the project gracefully. San Diego and Montgomery Suites have become my home.

  The first thing I did was hire the best architect I could find. Phillip came into my life and designed a phenomenal layout for the inside of my hotel. It was looking exactly how I pictured it, and it was becoming more real every day. When I was a little girl my parents took me to Shanghai. We stayed at this amazing hotel called The Shangri-La in West Shanghai. It was beyond anything I had ever seen before and I vowed if I ever owned a hotel, the interior would look just like The Shangri-La. What made me fall in love with the hotel was the suspended water droplets encasing the area; crystals were used as a primary architectural elements in the hotel—from the thick canopy of lighted crystal rods covering the entranceway to the draping of crystal sheets reaching from the floor to the ceiling in the lobby. Montgomery Suites was becoming my very own Shangri-La.

  I was in the lobby with my head contractor looking over the recent changes Phillip had made; instead of a straight, boring reception desk I want something different, inviting.

  “Looks about perfect, but just change that awful square into the horseshoe design. I’d prefer that,” I say, pointing to the open plans he has laid out.

  “You got it, Miss Montgomery.”

  Just as my contractor walks away, my cell starts vibrating in my hand. I throw my empty coffee cup in the trash near the front entrance and answer my call. It’s my best friend, June. We met in college and bunked in the same dorm room. She also comes from a family with loads of money, yet her father isn’t selfish and snobby like mine is. June is a rocker at heart and is in the music business; she started up her own music label called: Bitch Tours2090. I am not quite sure what the label means, but the title fits my girl. In addition her arms, and many other areas of her body, are covered in tattoos. She’s got bleached blonde hair that ends just above the shoulders with streaks of black underneath; it seems every week she dyes her hair a different color—one day it’s blue, the next purple. Along with her many tattoos she has piercings in her nose, nipples and belly button. I think she may also have one on her clit, but I really don’t want to go there; it makes me squirm every time I think about it. Furthermore, June really does rock and I love her to death.

  “Hey, June what’s up?”

  “You are going out with me tonight.”

  I groan every time June says those words—“out with me tonight”—I know exactly where we go and she knows how much I don’t like it. “June, you know I hate going to those nasty bars.” Every weekend she drags me to some skanky bar in some horrid neighborhood, forcing me to listen to her next discovery. The thought of going inside a dirty bar with dirty old men makes my stomach churn.

  “No, not this time hon. We are going up to a place called Reds. It’s in Del Mar.”

  I sigh and just pray it’s a nice place. “Okay, what time?”

  “I’ll come get you at six. We’ll have dinner there. I heard this place is the bomb, and the bands that play there are excellent. Plus I want to check out a new band that got in contact with me. You never know, I might end up loving them and asking them to sign with me!” She exclaims.

  June is the master at getting anyone to sign with her label; she has two already and I believe she’s waiting on a third.

  “What’s the band called?”

  “JINKS.”

  “Well, alright then. See you at six.”

  “Right on hon. Bye!” I can’t complain about her enthusiasm; she is driven, persistent and is passionate about her job. She loves what she does. It’s not hard getting excited when your best friend is making her dreams come true. I am so proud of her success and I have a feeling her career is going to explode.

  Once I hang up with June I go back upstairs to my room and work on some last minute preparations before my hotel opens; less than three months away Montgomery Suites will finally be open to the public. I cannot wait!

  By 1pm I am starving; I almost completely forgot about my lunch date with Phillip when I receive a text from him, letting me know he was on his way to the restaurant. I quickly gather my purse, put on my heels and walk down 3rd avenue until I land in front of Al Teatro Panini Grill. The hostess leads me toward the back where Phillip is seated. He looks so sexy in his dark blue suit and is smiling when he sees me appear. He pulls to his feet and kisses me on the cheek.

  Once situated at the table I read through the menu; I order a lemonade and turkey with cheese panini. As we wait for our food I ask, “So, how’d it go with my father?”

  “Fine. Just fine.”

  “Good.” I take a drink of my lemonade and put my napkin onto my lap. I really need some food—my stomach keeps growling. Tomorrow
I definitely should eat breakfast instead of drinking five cups of coffee.

  “He asked about you,” he mentions quietly.

  “Don’t go there, Phillip,” I warn him.

  “Faith -”

  I cut him off, “I said, don’t go there. My father and I don’t have that kind of relationship and we never will,” responding bitterly. He knows better than to talk personally about my father.

  He scoffs, “You really love shutting people out, don’t you?”

  Phillip has no idea what he’s talking about; I don’t love shutting people out. Because of my father, I can’t trust anyone. I have learned to create a shield when it comes to my family.

  Phillip and I met through one of my fathers contacts when I was searching for an architect. The moment I laid eyes on him I just about melted. Those green eyes of his immediately made my insides flutter and my panties wet. I needed to get laid and had only sex in mind when I accepted a date with him. He took me to the Gaslamp, the heart of San Diego for our first date. The restaurant was a very upscale seafood eatery that was bustling with people; we had to wait at least an hour before our reserved table was ready. We had a fantastic lobster dinner and a pleasant conversation. The best part of the night was—getting him up inside my hotel suite. The sex—OMG—was out of this world! Even though, throughout dinner I explained to him I wasn’t looking for anything serious he still wanted to see me. I really thought we had an understanding. That was six months ago; he’s still into me and I still use him for the sex. Call him my boyfriend, boy toy, sex slave, whatever. . . . . . I just know I’m not going to go any further with him.

  The waitress puts our lunch on our table and my mouth starts to water. “Do you want to eat lunch or do you want me to leave, because I’d rather leave than speak about him any further. Up to you.”

  “I’ll never understand you.”

  I continue to ignore his comment. “This looks amazing. You going to eat, because I need to get back to the hotel as soon as we’re finished.”

  We stare at one another for a moment before he gives up and takes a bite of his panini. I follow suit and eat like I’ve never eaten before.

  During the rest of our lunch we didn’t speak about my father again. I just wish Phillip would leave me alone about him. He’s not a good person; he’s mean, shallow, selfish, and unsupportive. I’ll never forgive him for what he put me through. Plus I’ll never forget he gave my boyfriend one million dollars to leave me. Those two men didn’t deserve my forgiveness.

  I was so glad the day had finally ended; I took a quick shower and got into my favorite black pair of skinny jeans, shimmery, off the shoulder black blouse, silver pumps and was ready to go out with June. My hair was fine so I just freshened up my makeup and headed down into the lobby. June was looking around the place, taking snapshots of the draped crystals. She looks so awesome in her rocker getup; very tight black skinny jeans with black stirrups, white tank, black bra underneath and very very tall black heels stilettos. My girl knows how to dress!

  She is in awe of the place and can’t stop taking shots with her cellphone. I laugh and drag her to her black Porsche.

  We have the music blaring and driving on the 5 freeway as we head our way to Reds. I’ve never heard of the joint so I’m a little apprehensive about it. “You sure about this place?” I raise my voice above the music.

  “Trust me sister, it’s not a junk yard. Didn’t you look it up?”

  I chuckle, “No. I didn’t have time.”

  “It’s a nice place.”

  “I trust you.”

  “I know you do.” June grins at me.

  After singing from the top of our lungs with one of our favorite bands, Undead Society, I ask about her latest band catch. “You never did tell me if that one band, oh what’s their name -”

  “Rules Bent.”

  “Yes!” I yell, slapping my hands together. “You never did tell me if they signed with you.”

  “I didn’t? Well they did!” She screams.

  “That’s great, honey!” I am so proud of June. She deserves this success so much.

  “Thanks. Oh here, switch the music on my iPod will ya? I want you to hear what JINKS sounds like. They are amazing.”

  I find JINKS for her and hit play. However, what comes out of the car speakers shocks me to the core. I just sit there, clenching my blouse, listening to the voice I haven’t heard in such a long time. It takes me back when he used to sing for me late at night; his voice lulled me to sleep, it was breathtaking and soothing. As I look over at my best friend rocking out, a wave of nausea overtakes me.

  “What do you think?” June asks.

  I groan, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “What’s wrong?” I quickly turn off the iPod and shove the damn thing inside the glove department.

  “Hey, what’s gotten into you! Why’d you turn it off?”

  I can barely breath. “Pull over.”

  “Faith, what’s wrong?”

  I scream with tears in my eyes. “I said pull over!”

  June swerves the little Porsche to the right and skids to the side of the road. I can’t unbuckle my seatbelt fast enough. I throw open the passenger door, fall to the ground and vomit. I can’t hear what June is saying to me; the cars on the freeway are so loud and my head is starting to pound. I cough up more phlegm and get my bearings before I get back into the car. I take a few deep breaths, and try to feel the cool summer breeze. Once I know I am not going to throw up anymore I climb back inside the car and sit there, feeling like shit.

  “Okay, what the fuck was that all about?”

  “I can’t go to Reds,” I tell her in a raspy voice.

  “Why?”

  Why? I ask myself. I have never told anyone about Lucas; he’s been buried so deep I haven’t wanted to bring him up. Yet, June is my best friend and she should know the truth. She needs to know she is going to work with a man who was my whole heart and who completely destroyed it.

  “That band. . . . that lead singer. . . . I know him—well I used to know him,” I confess.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously!” I shout, and begin to shake.

  “Okay, calm down Faith,” she rubs my shoulder. “Tell me how you know this guy?”

  I take a deep breath and stare out the front windshield; I can feel the pressure of each car as they zoom by. “His name is Lucas Jones. I dated him after I graduated High School when I was 19. He worked for my fathers company. I met him at one of the construction sites and completely fell head over heels for him. My father hated the fact we were together because he wasn’t who my father wanted me to be with. Lucas wasn’t rich and never went to college. At the time he played in a band called Inked; he took care of his mother because she was a junkie and had nobody else but him. We planned on getting married and I was going to support his music career with my trust fund. Turns out that’s why he wanted to be with me—for money. Since my father hated him so much he paid Lucas one million dollars to leave me. . . . he did. He took that money and never looked back.”

  “Holy shit!” June slams her hands on the steering wheel.

  I look at her and see she is stunned, speechless. “Now you know why I cannot go and see his band play? He broke my heart. He broke my trust in any guy that comes into my life. I can’t love anyone because he ruined it for me.”

  “Damn, is that why Phillip is always on the backburner?”

  I nod my head. “Yes. I can’t, nor will I ever love him.”

  “You’re still in love with this Lucas guy aren’t you?”

  Yes, I am and always will be.

  I don’t answer her question, instead I insist, “Can you just take me back home, please?”

  “This is my job, Faith, I have to be there. I’m already late as it is, so I can’t take you back. You can wait in the car or something. I need to meet them and hopefully get them to sign with me.”

  I have no other choice then. “Fine, I’ll wait in the car.”<
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  “Don’t you think you’re being a little childish about this?”

  I gasp, “Oh my God, you didn’t just call me childish!” I can’t believe June would say something like that to me!

  “Well, I mean, it was a long time ago, so maybe -”

  I quickly cut her off and yell, “June! He took money from my father! He used me!”

  She sighs. I can tell she feels bad about what she said. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll wait in the car,” I sternly repeat to her.

  “Okay.”

  For the rest of the drive we pretty much keep silent. Even though June pissed me off I could never stay mad at her; she’s my best friend, we would do anything for each other and if it meant I didn’t want to talk about Lucas anymore, then we wouldn’t talk about him.

  I’m not surprised the street in front of Reds is packed; it’s a Friday night and the place is booming with customers. Fortunately we get lucky. Someone leaves a parking spot just as we pull up in front of the restaurant. June asks me one more time if I want to come in, but she knew my answer even before the question came out; knowing Lucas is behind those walls scares the shit out of me. What would happen if I decide to go see him play? Would he recognize me if he happened to see me in the crowd? Would he stop singing in the middle of his song and come charging for me, kissing me in front of everyone? Would he say he missed me and couldn’t live another single day without me? What would I do if he did all those things? Would I return the favor and hold him and never let him go? Or would I slap him if he tried to kiss me? Maybe he wouldn’t do anything? Maybe I’m delusional thinking he ever loved me? He took that money and never contacted me again; his betrayal showed me what a coward he really was, what damage he caused me.

  As I sit inside the car cemented, frozen, I hear his familiar voice coming through the walls of Reds; it’s a bit muffled, but I can hear his tone. I am wringing my hands together, getting the urge to sneak a peek at the man who I would have died for, the one who used to play his guitar and sing me to sleep after we made love. I want to see what he looks like now; does he look the same since I last saw him? Will he still make my knees weak the moment I lay my eyes on him? Why am I so tempted to see the man who caused me such pain? Ugh! I am driving myself crazy with my stupid thoughts! I am only going to torture myself if I go see him, so I should wait it out and sit here. . . . by myself. . . . .hearing his muffled voice. . . . hearing the screaming women who want Lucas.