Chapter 7 Faith
FAITH
“You can wait here, Heather will look after you.” Hayden nods to a woman behind the bar.
“I’ll be ok. You go to your meeting.”
“Hey Heather, this is Sunshine, get her a glass of pop and put it on my tab, would you, love?”
“Hayden, I’m eighteen, not eight.” I blow air upwards in a huff that lifts my fringe. My fists dig into my hips as I glare at him for ordering me a fizzy pop like he would when I was a child.
He glares right back and growls. “Fine. You can have whatever drink you want, but just the one. I’m not having you get wasted on my watch. Your brother would kill me.”
“I’ll have a bottle of WKD Blue, please Heather.” I point to the bottled alcopops in the fridge.
Hayden’s lips curve into a satisfied smirk. “I’ll be back soon. If you need me for anything, come and tell Heather.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” I thank Heather for the drink, lift it from the counter and wave across the bar to a girl I knew from school and make my way towards her. “Hey Yaz, how are you?”
Yaz flicks her long dark fringe out of her eyes, surrounded by winged eyeliner and smokey eyeshadow. “Same old. How are you? Haven’t seen you since you left school.”
“Yeah, I moved out of town. Went to a closer school. I’ve just finished my A-levels. Get my results tomorrow.” I smile. “What about you?”
“Yeah, same. I got a job at the supermarket while I decide what to do next.”
“I’m looking for a job. Any chance you can get me a job at the supermarket?”
She scrunches her nose. “I don’t think there're any jobs right now. They just set on Letty.”
“Letty?”
Yaz points to a girl about my age with purple hair. “This is Letty, she’s staying at the old farmhouse with Kane. Do you remember him?” She leans in to whisper, “You know the guy who chops up bodies in his workshop with his bandsaw.”
My spine bristles. “I remember. He didn’t like us trespassing on his land.”
Letty turns around with a bottle in hand. “Sup.”
“Hi, I’m Sunsh—I mean Faith.” I roll my eyes at my own stupidity. Hayden’s called me Sunshine so much these last two days, it’s starting to stick. I also really like the way it sounds coming from him. “I desperately need a job, so if you hear of anything, let me know.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be sticking around, so you can have my job if I decide to leave.” Violet sips her drink through a straw.
“You just passing through?”
She shrugs. “I came to find my dad, but Kane says he’s not my father. He’s just letting me crash until I get back on my feet.”
“Nice. I’m just staying with my brother’s friend right now. I have no money to pay him or anything.”
“Where’s your brother? Can’t you stay with him?”
I take a sip from my bottle, wondering how much I should tell this girl I just met, but she seems like she’d understand. “He’s in prison.”
She nods, unfazed, as if I just told her he’s away on business. “It’s good of him to let you move in. Kane won’t take money from me, says he owes my mother or something. Feels like it’s his duty to care for me, even though I only arrived here a few weeks ago after leaving my foster family.”
“He sounds like Hayden.”
“I’ll keep a lookout for any jobs for you.” She gives me a sympathetic smile, as if she can sense I’m broken. And I get the feeling she’s been there too. “If you need anything—anything at all—I know what it’s like to have nowhere to go.”
“Faith!” a voice calls from across the room. It’s Chloe, who I went to school with—her eyeliner just as dramatic now, her voice still bright as a bell. “Come sing with us!”
I freeze, my bottle halfway to my mouth. “No, I couldn’t,” I say, shaking my head. “I haven’t sung in front of anyone in ages.”
“Sure you can. You love singing,” she insists. “You used to belt out songs at the top of your lungs in the girls’ toilets, remember?”
I laugh nervously. “That was different. That was high school and closed doors.”
“You’re waiting for someone, right? So sing while you wait.” She grins, already reaching for my hand.
Before I can protest, Yaz joins in. “Yeah, c’mon! You’re an amazing singer, Faith.”
“I really shouldn’t…”
“Faith,” Chloe says more gently now. “You’ll feel better. Trust me.”
That tugs at something inside me—because she’s right. I’ve felt like a shadow of myself for so long. Afraid to take up space and scared to be seen.
I nod, heart thudding, and let them pull me towards the little makeshift stage in the bay window, filled with mismatched amps, string lights, and borrowed instruments. I smile at Toby, the drummer—another familiar face from school. He taps his sticks in greeting.
I take the mic with trembling fingers. My mouth’s as dry as the local reservoir in a hosepipe ban.
I stare out at the bar, but the lights above us blur everything into a golden haze.
The first notes of a slow acoustic version of “Torn” by Natalie Imbruglia play behind me.
A song we practiced at school in music class.
I take a breath.
And I sing.
My voice is quiet and unsteady, like I’ve forgotten how to be loud.
But then I see him.
Hayden’s standing at the back of the bar in the doorway to the stairs, meeting with a couple of patched members, but his eyes are on me.
Not like Nigel’s eyes. Not even like the boys at school who only saw my curves.
Hayden looks at me like I’m the sun coming out after the longest storm.
My nerves settle. My voice rises. I hit the chorus and close my eyes, letting the lyrics pour from me like they’ve been waiting to be set free.
By the time we reach the last verse, I’m not just singing—I’m flying.
The song ends, and the bar erupts into cheers.
Chloe throws an arm around my shoulders and grins at me like I’ve just won Britain’s Got Talent. “Still got it, Faith.”
I glance towards the bar again.
Hayden’s leaning against the wall now, arms crossed, that unreadable expression on his face. But I see the flicker of pride. A smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.
I feel taller somehow. Brighter and alive.
I step down from the little stage, heart pounding in my chest for a whole new reason now. I make my way towards him, cheeks flushed—not just from singing, but from being noticed.
“You were amazing up there.” His smile makes my knees weak.
“Thank you.” I glance down with flushed cheeks, but he curls his finger under my chin, lifting my gaze back to his. I hold my breath, wishing he’d kiss me. He’s close enough that I can smell a hint of his drink on his breath, the musky scent of his aftershave and leather.
“I mean it, Faith. That was incredible. You have a talent.”
My chest tightens at his words. I want to believe him. But more than that—I want to believe in myself again too. And maybe, with him near… I will.
“I always knew you could sing, but I didn’t know you could sing like that,” he says after a beat.
“I used to. Before… everything.”
“Well, you still can.” His hands warm my cheeks. “Don’t let anyone dim that light again.”
Heather slides another WKD Blue bottle across the bar. “We’re looking for a singer for a Tuesday night slot if you’re interested.”
“You’d pay me to sing?”
“It’s up to Draven. He has the final say, but I don’t see why not.” She gives me a warm smile as she collects some empty glasses and, for the first time, I feel like I could actually do this.
Just as I reach for the bottle, a voice pipes up from somewhere to the left.
“Hey, sweet cheeks, we’ve got room here for a pretty face with pipes like that,” someone says in a slurred voice.
I glance over my shoulder and see a guy in a leather cut I don’t recognise.
Before I can answer—or even react—Hayden is between us.
“Back off, Reg,” he says, calm but deadly. One arm slides around my waist. “She’s not available. For singing or anything else.”
Reg lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, man. Just paying her a compliment.”
Draven stares at Hayden from behind the bar, then back at Reg, giving him a nod that says get the hell out of here before Wrath rips your throat out.
Hayden doesn’t budge. “Keep your compliments to yourself. Or you’ll be drinking through a straw for the rest of the year.”
“You know you should mark her if she’s your property.” Reg slinks away without another word.
Hayden turns to me, his expression softening. “Let’s get out of here.”
I nod, grabbing my drink. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know,” he says. “But I wanted to.”
“Good luck with your results tomorrow, Faith,” Yaz shouts as I walk through the back door.
“Thanks, you too.”
Hayden halts mid-step, blocking the doorway. His brows pull together. “Results?” There’s a weird expression on his face, and the colour drains from his cheeks.
I shrug. “I get my A-level results tomorrow. No big deal. I’ll get the bus or something to school.”
His jaw clenches. “Like hell you will. I’m not having you get your results alone. I’ll take you.”
“I’ve put you out enough. It’s—”
He lifts a hand. “I don’t want to hear another word about it. I’m taking you and that’s the end of it.”
Outside, the air is cool and quiet, a soft breeze brushing against my legs.
Hayden walks me to his bike in silence, his hand resting protectively on the small of my back, his shoulders tense like he’s still chewing something over.
I lean against his bike before climbing on. “What did that guy mean when he said mark me?”
“Make you my old lady. Mark you with the club branding so everyone knows you’re off limits.”
“He didn’t know who I was, did he?”
“No. He’s from another chapter. He didn’t know your old man or your brother. He doesn’t understand, but next time, I’ll gladly explain with my boot in his mouth.” Hayden smiles at me, his hard edges softening under the moonlight.
I smile to myself. “You were jealous.”
He doesn’t deny it. Just looks at me with those storm-grey eyes and says, “Damn right I was.”
My heart stutters. “Why?”
He steps closer, eyes locked on mine. “Because you deserve better than that. And because of the way you sang up there… you were magic, Faith. Mine or not, I didn’t want anyone undeserving reaching for that.”
My heart skips a beat. With Hayden, I don’t feel like someone’s possession. I feel cherished. Heard and finally seen.