Four Brothers
Feb. 13th, 2010 10:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veiledndarknessTitle: Strays 14/?
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Bobby/Jack
Rating: R
Summary: What’s it all worth when you’re alone?
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.
Notes: AU, the brothers were not raised together by Evelyn.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
X
Evan flicked his cigarette, listening intently to the nervous man nearby, his grunted responses a mere reflex as the man babbled on. He inhaled, a slightly dizzy feeling rushing through him. He'd known something like this was going to happen.
"Dwayne, man, you need to calm the fuck down or he's gonna smell the sweat on ya." He dropped the cigarette butt to the snow covered cement steps and ground it out with the tip of his boot. "Don't give him no reason to think you're weak."
"I ain't half as scared of him as I am of Mercer," Dwayne wiped at his forehead with the sleeve of his coat. "Ain't nothin' good gonna come outta this. It's too much, man, way too much."
Evan shrugged, indifferent, "Gotta know how to play guys like that."
"Bullshit. I saw you few weeks back, fucking knees were knockin' together, Evan," Dwayne snorted and spat on the ground, drawing some semblance of calm from the steady eyes of Evan. "You looked ready t' piss yourself."
"Let's see you sit in front of him an' not be sweatin' like he's gonna break out them thumbscrews or his damn lighter."
Dwayne smirked a little. "Uh huh, Sweet's offerin' what Mercer never will. You gotta pick the right side ahead of time."
Evan glanced back at the windows of the house, shifting his weight on the porch. "I picked what I picked, not about to regret it, but I'll say one thing for ya, Dwayne. Mercer don't forget, he don't forgive and he's gonna kill ya when he finds out."
"If..." Dwayne wiped at his forehead again, his smirk fading fast. "If he finds out. I know he don't forgive but if he don't know..."
"Big risk to take," Even looked at his watch. "You know where they're keepin' the kid?" he asked casually.
Dwayne frowned. "Why?"
"Curious is all," Evan mentally counted out several seconds before smiling thinly. "I figured he'd stick him in his house, keep a close eye."
"Nah, man, house is too easy, too obvious," Dwayne crossed his arms. "Bobby ain't the only one with warehouses."
Evan raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Huh...Yeah, ok, I gotta run. Shit to do still today."
"You think I made the wrong choice, don'tcha?"
He looked at Dwayne, pitying him for the briefest moment. There had been a time when Dwayne had been one of his closest friends. "It don't matter much what I think Dwayne. You made ya choice when Sweet dangled all them pretty promises in front of you. Just..." he sighed and shook his head. "Victor ain't Bobby, for better or worse."
He stepped away from him and walked away from the carefully nondescript meeting house. "Bye Dwayne," he murmured under his breath.
X
It was a blur of noise, muffled shouts and harsh breathing above him. Jack swayed from side to side, blood trickling down the back of his neck in a sticky, still warm trail. He wrinkled his nose and shifted, struggling to find his balance. He flexed his fingers at his sides, his head radiating a dull, yet vicious ache. He shifted again, the world around him rumbling more.
He wet his lips and took a breath, shivering. A van...? A car maybe...He turned his head and opened his eyes. He opened his mouth to call out for help, the feeble sound fading away at the sight of the legs next to him, of the black jeans that reeked of blood and smoke. Jack lifted his head more, clamping down hard on the pain that slammed through his skull. He let out a tiny moan of pain and struggled to kneel on the floorboard, his legs cramped and confined in the small space.
"Stay down."
Jack scowled at the floorboard. "I ain't a dog," he muttered.
A hand came down, slapping him and splitting his lip. Jack reeled back against the floor, blood flooding his mouth. He spit weakly, the blood dribbling down his chin, ignoring the fresh bursts of pain in the back of his head. Jack felt for his knife in his pocket, fear seeping into him at the realization that, at best, his knife was in the snow. Lucy....he hung his head. Oh god....Lucy...
"Shut the fuck up! You hear me?"
Jack edged away from the man, curling up. Small, gotta stay small...He closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop racing. The man grunted and pushed at him with one gloved hand. "Stay put an' I won't cuff you. Move an' I'll make you regret it, pretty boy."
Horrified, Jack struggled to pull the words back but they burst forth, spilling hot and hateful over his lips, his head raised to spit at him. "This the only way you can get hard? Roughin' up young boys, huh? Yeah, all you repressed, closeted motherfuckers are the same, can't get it up till they're bleedin' an' cryin', you sick pieces of shit!"
With a snarl, the man's fist slammed into Jack's face, cutting off the flurry of insults. Jack cried out and flopped back, stars dancing behind his left eyelid. A well placed kick to his upper thigh, another punch to the back of the head and Jack drifted off, slipping gratefully into unconsciousness.
X
“Don’t know if’n this be a good idea, Boss man.” Em gripped the handles of her purse and took a deep, shuddering sigh. “Seein’ Miss Lucy now, ain’t nothin’ easy ‘bout all this.”
Bobby stared out the window, the city rolling past them in a dirty gray blur, the snow streaked with salt and grit from the roads. “They said critical. That doesn’t mean dead.”
“Maybe not, but don’t mindin’ me sayin’ so thatcha ain’t in the right mind t’ see Lucy girl like this. Them officials, them doctors, they don’t let ya anywhere near c-critical…” Em trailed off and swallowed hard. She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.
“Let’s see them stop me,” Bobby whispered. His eyes were bleak. “Let’s seem them try.”
Em toyed with the straps of her purse, nodding. “Yessir,” she bit her lip, worry creasing her face.
They rode in silence to the hospital, wind buffeting the car along the road. Bobby grimaced as they pulled into the parking lot. His migraine was gathering strength by the hour. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, holding the rush of pain back.
Bobby walked into the hospital, Em close at his side. He strode past the main reception desk, and with a minimum of fuss, made his way to the intensive care unit. His steps slowed as he neared the darkened room, his boots creaking in the whisper quiet halls. He let out a breath and stood in the doorway, watching the coloured lights on the machines, the tubes that were connected to Lucy’s still body.
Em crossed herself. “Lord…Little Miss Lucy,” she sniffled softly.
“She looks like she’s sleepin’,” Bobby looked away, his face crumpled. He took a moment, gathering his senses. He stepped up to the bedside and felt his eyes prickle and sting. He blinked back the tears and touched his gloved hand to Lucy's lower arm. An i.v. line ran into her hand, taped in place. He made a sound and turned his head, breathing hard. "Bastards...fucking bastards," he hissed, tears threatening again.
"Boy, don't," Em crooned at his side. She rested one hand over his gloved fingers and squeezed gently. "Cursin' won't help, Lucy girl needs good thoughts."
Bobby closed his eyes. The fury was back, oh yes, rolling and turning in his stomach. He swayed, his head splitting apart at the flash of each spasm of pain. He could dimly hear Em, her voice smooth and steady, a calm sound that called his attention, pulled him back from the horrible rage that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Em," he whispered. "I can't do this..I can't." A tear ran down his cheek. He wiped at his face with his arm, sniffing. "I can't sit here when Victor Sweet ain't dead yet!"
She moved her hand, her fingers cupping his cheek. Bobby pressed into the familiar, loving touch, his shoulders hitching. More silent tears coursed down and she made soothing sounds, the low croon calming him. "That'sa boy," she stroked his cheek. "Sit boy, g' on, sit down with Miss Lucy."
Bobby sat on the nearest chair and held his head in his hands. "Need a pill...God help me, I can't do this straight." He lifted his head and peered at Em. "Don't look at me like that."
"Never had a mind t' listen when you was a younger man," she smoothed his hair back with her palms, coaxing the strands into place. "Speakin' bad things won't help Miss Lucy or Jackie none, an' ya know that, boy."
"I can't not do somethin' Em," Bobby took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The monitors attached to Lucy beeped steadily. "Victor Sweet did this. He..."
Em brushed a motherly kiss over Bobby's forehead. "Shh, boy." She petted his head, standing at his side. Bobby pressed against her, taking one breath after the next, his migraine ebbing back as the minutes ticked by. Jack could have fixed it just with his thumbs, he thought, his stomach rolling with the flashes of pain behind his eyes. Jack...
Bobby took another deep breath. The thought of losing him was unbearable. In such a short period of time, his affection for Jack had turned, turned into something that frightened him. Bobby's shoulders jerked. If Victor hurt him...of all the things he could do to Jack... Bobby held back a snarl. If Victor touched one finger to Jack...He bit his lip, indulging in thoughts of different ways to destroy Victor.
"Time's like these, ya oughta be spendin' it prayin', boy," Em tipped Bobby's chin up, her fingers grazing his cheek.
"Prayin's for when you got nothin' left," Bobby muttered. "When there's no bullets an' you see that look in their eyes as they come for you, that's when you pray it'll be over soon."
Em smiled faintly, unshed tears gathering in her eyes. "Prayin's for all times, when all hope you got fades, for them moments when ya think no, no I can't g'on no more. That's when you pray, that's when you 'member that you ain't never alone, God, Him watchin', He sees ya sufferin', He hears ya prayer, boy, He does."
Bobby pulled away from her touch, a nasty grimace contorting his face. "Bullshit!" he spat, his lips drawn back in a snarl. "He hears, but He don't give a shit!"
She took a step back from him, her eyes wide with disapproval. "Boy, you don't, in ya heart, believe that."
"I believe He's waitin' to see how much it takes before I lose my fucking mind!" Bobby moved off the bed, pacing and gripping at his head. "I've done bad shit, lifetimes of it, I know I ain't good, but why hurt everyone else? Huh? He's so fuckin' good and all mighty, then why is Lucy as good as dead an' Jack...and my Ma..." his voice cracked. "No...Fuck Him!"
He pushed away from the bed. "Fuck Him for hurtin' everyone else instead of jus' fuckin' killing me!"
Em crossed herself as the tears fell down her cheeks, the wetness gleaming in the dimly lit room. Lucy's machines beeped on, her inhales and exhales near silent. Bobby felt a ragged sob tear loose from his throat and he fled the room in a blur of hateful tears and blinding pain.
X
Jerry pressed one shaking finger to the memory button on his phone. He paced while the other line rang. "C'mon, c'mon..." he said under his breath.
"What?"
He sighed and wiped a hand over his head. "Angel, don't hang up, man. It's me."
"I know that dumbass, caller i.d."
"Where's Bobby at?"
Angel paused and Jerry felt the air rush from his chest. "Why? You gonna come at me next? Or Em? How 'bout you be a fuckin' man an' go after Bobby, 'stead of us?"
"No, no, no, you don't even...Angel, I swear t' God, I didn't have nothin' to do with this! I tried to warn y'all, you know I did!"
"Bullshit, you know what happened! You got in bed with Victor Sweet, you fucking chickenshit liar!"
Jerry held his head in one hand, breathing hard. "I swear, I didn't know he was plannin' this, not something like this."
"They shot up Lucy, did you hear me, Jeremiah? They shot her the fuck up."
Jerry stumbled mid step, his eyes wide. "No...I...Oh Jesus Christ! I thought..."
"What?" Angel cooed, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "You thought it was jus' gonna be Jack, right? You thought Victor would send his boys an' take Jack outta the picture right?"
"I didn't arrange nothing!"
Angel laughed, the jagged sound of it sending shivers down Jerry's spine. "Yeah sure you didn't. Whatcha got against Jack? You an' me, it's you an' me, it's you an' me, they think we did it. I didn't like 'im, thought he was another Billy, but I was wrong, Jerry, fucking wrong! He's a kid, nothin' but a kid that Bobby's sweet on."
"Bobby's gonna kill me..." Jerry breathed, pure panic fueling him.
Angel snorted. "Tit for tat, maybe he'll take out your woman. There ain't nobody safe from Bobby Mercer, not now."
Jerry swallowed over the sour lump in his throat. "No..."
"If I was you, I'd be findin' out where Victor stashed the kid. Maybe then Bobby won't cut your fuckin' head off."
Jerry fought the urge to laugh hysterically. The phone slipped a bit in his hand, his fingers greasy with sweat. "Yeah, yeah Angel, I wasn't kiddin', once I heard, I tried t' tell y'all what was gonna go down. You hung up on me, man."
"Don't matter if you did or I did. Victor took Jack an' damn near killed Lucy. Ain't no mercy for none of us now." Angel hung up, the click of the phone sending a crash of new fear crawling through Jerry's limbs.
Jerry sat on the edge of his desk, his shoulders slumped. "God help me," he mumbled.
X
Bobby sat in the wooden pew in the hospital chapel, his eyes closed, head lowered. He took small breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating. The scent of wood, the familiar feel of absolute silence, stillness, calmness surrounded him. He fancied he could almost feel Evelyn sitting next to him. "Mom," he whispered.
He sighed and opened his eyes, looking about the chapel. "Ma, you remember all those times you tried to tell me about forgiveness?"
Silence answered him. He smiled, his lips curved down in sad, wistful memory. "Think maybe you were wrong. God doesn't care, He's laughin' at me and takin' everyone away. He ain't listenin'."
"God listens and hears our words. It's what we do with his words that matters."
Bobby flinched, his hands straying to the holstered gun he wore under his coat. "Who the fuck asked you?" he snapped at the woman that stood next to the pew.
She smiled at him, unruffled by his harsh words. "I'm sorry to intrude. You looked like you needed someone to talk to."
"Did I say I wanted t' talk to you?" he stilled his hand, watching her closely. She was very plain looking, nondescript was the first fleeting thought he had.
She tilted her head a little. "There's no better place than here when one needs to talk."
Bobby made a noncommittal grunt and looked away. "Why's there no answer when we talk if He's listening?"
She stepped into the row and sat down beside Bobby. "I think we hear what we want to when we ask a question of Him. In the silence, our answers come."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's a whole lot of fucking help."
"You have so much anger inside you. You're hurting."
Bobby glared in her direction. "Look lady, I don't wanna talk an' my 'anger' isn't any of your concern, clear?"
"Your mother, she tried to show you how to listen."
He stared at her, his heart skipping a beat. "...What?"
The woman smiled again. "She tried and I think you did learn, but in your anger and hatred now, you can't remember the way nor can you find your faith. You're lost in your anger, lost in your suffering."
"How the hell do you...who are you? Do you even know who you're sittin' beside?"
"There's few people who wouldn't know you," she leaned forward and plucked a black book from the wooden shelving on the next pew. "I can feel your anger, your hurt and suffering. You believe God is punishing you."
Bobby snorted. "I know he is."
"You think your mother's death was your fault," she paged through the book idly, her eyes on the words before her.
"Stop it..."
"We often carry the burdens we imagine are ours to bear. It's a flaw for many."
Bobby felt fresh tears threaten behind his eyelids. "I...I wasn't there."
"Your mother would never hold you responsible for what happened." She lifted her gaze for a moment and Bobby fought the urge to recoil. How could he have thought her to be non descript when her eyes seemed to see right through him?
Eyes like Evelyn's...He shuddered a little. "You don't know everythin'. It's cause of me that she got killed."
"Are you certain of that?"
"You really don't know me at all, lady," Bobby took a breath and exhaled in one rush. "People like me, we forget that havin' families, it's a bad thing. We lose them all, one by one."
"You believe that you're undeserving of a loving family," she selected a page seemingly at random, her watchful gaze still set on Bobby. "Of being loved by anyone."
Bobby bit the inside of his cheek. He could feel the edges of his migraine receding. "Stop..."
"Of his love..."
"I said stop!"
"Or God's love."
"Damn it!" Bobby stood up, panting for breath. "Shut the fuck up! I don't need this, I don't have to listen to this shit!"
She lowered her gaze to the book and spoke in a low, soothing voice. "We fear being alone at times. We fear a life where we live without the love of another. You fear this."
"I'm not afraid of anythin'! Or anyone for that fucking matter!" Bobby shouted. He grimaced and clasped his hands to his head. "I'll kill them all, you wait an' see."
After several minutes, Bobby sat down, shaking. She ran her fingers over the printed words, line after line. "Do you hear what's said in silence?"
Bobby closed his eyes, sick to his stomach. "I don't hear anythin'."
"In the silence in this room, in any place of the world, you aren't alone." She rested her cool hand to Bobby's cheek, ignoring his muttered protests. "He has not abandoned you. You simply have to listen."
Bobby opened his mouth to protest when he felt a warmth wrap around him. He blinked and let out a breath.
She was gone.
Bobby licked his dry lips, his heart pounding against his ribcage. "Jesus..." He looked down at the bible that lay beside him on the pew and read the passage her finger had moved over.
'...and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.'
Bobby closed his eyes once more, pressed his hands together and began to pray silently, the warmth soothing him as he did so.
X
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Bobby/Jack
Rating: R
Summary: What’s it all worth when you’re alone?
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.
Notes: AU, the brothers were not raised together by Evelyn.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
X
Evan flicked his cigarette, listening intently to the nervous man nearby, his grunted responses a mere reflex as the man babbled on. He inhaled, a slightly dizzy feeling rushing through him. He'd known something like this was going to happen.
"Dwayne, man, you need to calm the fuck down or he's gonna smell the sweat on ya." He dropped the cigarette butt to the snow covered cement steps and ground it out with the tip of his boot. "Don't give him no reason to think you're weak."
"I ain't half as scared of him as I am of Mercer," Dwayne wiped at his forehead with the sleeve of his coat. "Ain't nothin' good gonna come outta this. It's too much, man, way too much."
Evan shrugged, indifferent, "Gotta know how to play guys like that."
"Bullshit. I saw you few weeks back, fucking knees were knockin' together, Evan," Dwayne snorted and spat on the ground, drawing some semblance of calm from the steady eyes of Evan. "You looked ready t' piss yourself."
"Let's see you sit in front of him an' not be sweatin' like he's gonna break out them thumbscrews or his damn lighter."
Dwayne smirked a little. "Uh huh, Sweet's offerin' what Mercer never will. You gotta pick the right side ahead of time."
Evan glanced back at the windows of the house, shifting his weight on the porch. "I picked what I picked, not about to regret it, but I'll say one thing for ya, Dwayne. Mercer don't forget, he don't forgive and he's gonna kill ya when he finds out."
"If..." Dwayne wiped at his forehead again, his smirk fading fast. "If he finds out. I know he don't forgive but if he don't know..."
"Big risk to take," Even looked at his watch. "You know where they're keepin' the kid?" he asked casually.
Dwayne frowned. "Why?"
"Curious is all," Evan mentally counted out several seconds before smiling thinly. "I figured he'd stick him in his house, keep a close eye."
"Nah, man, house is too easy, too obvious," Dwayne crossed his arms. "Bobby ain't the only one with warehouses."
Evan raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Huh...Yeah, ok, I gotta run. Shit to do still today."
"You think I made the wrong choice, don'tcha?"
He looked at Dwayne, pitying him for the briefest moment. There had been a time when Dwayne had been one of his closest friends. "It don't matter much what I think Dwayne. You made ya choice when Sweet dangled all them pretty promises in front of you. Just..." he sighed and shook his head. "Victor ain't Bobby, for better or worse."
He stepped away from him and walked away from the carefully nondescript meeting house. "Bye Dwayne," he murmured under his breath.
X
It was a blur of noise, muffled shouts and harsh breathing above him. Jack swayed from side to side, blood trickling down the back of his neck in a sticky, still warm trail. He wrinkled his nose and shifted, struggling to find his balance. He flexed his fingers at his sides, his head radiating a dull, yet vicious ache. He shifted again, the world around him rumbling more.
He wet his lips and took a breath, shivering. A van...? A car maybe...He turned his head and opened his eyes. He opened his mouth to call out for help, the feeble sound fading away at the sight of the legs next to him, of the black jeans that reeked of blood and smoke. Jack lifted his head more, clamping down hard on the pain that slammed through his skull. He let out a tiny moan of pain and struggled to kneel on the floorboard, his legs cramped and confined in the small space.
"Stay down."
Jack scowled at the floorboard. "I ain't a dog," he muttered.
A hand came down, slapping him and splitting his lip. Jack reeled back against the floor, blood flooding his mouth. He spit weakly, the blood dribbling down his chin, ignoring the fresh bursts of pain in the back of his head. Jack felt for his knife in his pocket, fear seeping into him at the realization that, at best, his knife was in the snow. Lucy....he hung his head. Oh god....Lucy...
"Shut the fuck up! You hear me?"
Jack edged away from the man, curling up. Small, gotta stay small...He closed his eyes, willing his heart to stop racing. The man grunted and pushed at him with one gloved hand. "Stay put an' I won't cuff you. Move an' I'll make you regret it, pretty boy."
Horrified, Jack struggled to pull the words back but they burst forth, spilling hot and hateful over his lips, his head raised to spit at him. "This the only way you can get hard? Roughin' up young boys, huh? Yeah, all you repressed, closeted motherfuckers are the same, can't get it up till they're bleedin' an' cryin', you sick pieces of shit!"
With a snarl, the man's fist slammed into Jack's face, cutting off the flurry of insults. Jack cried out and flopped back, stars dancing behind his left eyelid. A well placed kick to his upper thigh, another punch to the back of the head and Jack drifted off, slipping gratefully into unconsciousness.
X
“Don’t know if’n this be a good idea, Boss man.” Em gripped the handles of her purse and took a deep, shuddering sigh. “Seein’ Miss Lucy now, ain’t nothin’ easy ‘bout all this.”
Bobby stared out the window, the city rolling past them in a dirty gray blur, the snow streaked with salt and grit from the roads. “They said critical. That doesn’t mean dead.”
“Maybe not, but don’t mindin’ me sayin’ so thatcha ain’t in the right mind t’ see Lucy girl like this. Them officials, them doctors, they don’t let ya anywhere near c-critical…” Em trailed off and swallowed hard. She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.
“Let’s see them stop me,” Bobby whispered. His eyes were bleak. “Let’s seem them try.”
Em toyed with the straps of her purse, nodding. “Yessir,” she bit her lip, worry creasing her face.
They rode in silence to the hospital, wind buffeting the car along the road. Bobby grimaced as they pulled into the parking lot. His migraine was gathering strength by the hour. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, holding the rush of pain back.
Bobby walked into the hospital, Em close at his side. He strode past the main reception desk, and with a minimum of fuss, made his way to the intensive care unit. His steps slowed as he neared the darkened room, his boots creaking in the whisper quiet halls. He let out a breath and stood in the doorway, watching the coloured lights on the machines, the tubes that were connected to Lucy’s still body.
Em crossed herself. “Lord…Little Miss Lucy,” she sniffled softly.
“She looks like she’s sleepin’,” Bobby looked away, his face crumpled. He took a moment, gathering his senses. He stepped up to the bedside and felt his eyes prickle and sting. He blinked back the tears and touched his gloved hand to Lucy's lower arm. An i.v. line ran into her hand, taped in place. He made a sound and turned his head, breathing hard. "Bastards...fucking bastards," he hissed, tears threatening again.
"Boy, don't," Em crooned at his side. She rested one hand over his gloved fingers and squeezed gently. "Cursin' won't help, Lucy girl needs good thoughts."
Bobby closed his eyes. The fury was back, oh yes, rolling and turning in his stomach. He swayed, his head splitting apart at the flash of each spasm of pain. He could dimly hear Em, her voice smooth and steady, a calm sound that called his attention, pulled him back from the horrible rage that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Em," he whispered. "I can't do this..I can't." A tear ran down his cheek. He wiped at his face with his arm, sniffing. "I can't sit here when Victor Sweet ain't dead yet!"
She moved her hand, her fingers cupping his cheek. Bobby pressed into the familiar, loving touch, his shoulders hitching. More silent tears coursed down and she made soothing sounds, the low croon calming him. "That'sa boy," she stroked his cheek. "Sit boy, g' on, sit down with Miss Lucy."
Bobby sat on the nearest chair and held his head in his hands. "Need a pill...God help me, I can't do this straight." He lifted his head and peered at Em. "Don't look at me like that."
"Never had a mind t' listen when you was a younger man," she smoothed his hair back with her palms, coaxing the strands into place. "Speakin' bad things won't help Miss Lucy or Jackie none, an' ya know that, boy."
"I can't not do somethin' Em," Bobby took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The monitors attached to Lucy beeped steadily. "Victor Sweet did this. He..."
Em brushed a motherly kiss over Bobby's forehead. "Shh, boy." She petted his head, standing at his side. Bobby pressed against her, taking one breath after the next, his migraine ebbing back as the minutes ticked by. Jack could have fixed it just with his thumbs, he thought, his stomach rolling with the flashes of pain behind his eyes. Jack...
Bobby took another deep breath. The thought of losing him was unbearable. In such a short period of time, his affection for Jack had turned, turned into something that frightened him. Bobby's shoulders jerked. If Victor hurt him...of all the things he could do to Jack... Bobby held back a snarl. If Victor touched one finger to Jack...He bit his lip, indulging in thoughts of different ways to destroy Victor.
"Time's like these, ya oughta be spendin' it prayin', boy," Em tipped Bobby's chin up, her fingers grazing his cheek.
"Prayin's for when you got nothin' left," Bobby muttered. "When there's no bullets an' you see that look in their eyes as they come for you, that's when you pray it'll be over soon."
Em smiled faintly, unshed tears gathering in her eyes. "Prayin's for all times, when all hope you got fades, for them moments when ya think no, no I can't g'on no more. That's when you pray, that's when you 'member that you ain't never alone, God, Him watchin', He sees ya sufferin', He hears ya prayer, boy, He does."
Bobby pulled away from her touch, a nasty grimace contorting his face. "Bullshit!" he spat, his lips drawn back in a snarl. "He hears, but He don't give a shit!"
She took a step back from him, her eyes wide with disapproval. "Boy, you don't, in ya heart, believe that."
"I believe He's waitin' to see how much it takes before I lose my fucking mind!" Bobby moved off the bed, pacing and gripping at his head. "I've done bad shit, lifetimes of it, I know I ain't good, but why hurt everyone else? Huh? He's so fuckin' good and all mighty, then why is Lucy as good as dead an' Jack...and my Ma..." his voice cracked. "No...Fuck Him!"
He pushed away from the bed. "Fuck Him for hurtin' everyone else instead of jus' fuckin' killing me!"
Em crossed herself as the tears fell down her cheeks, the wetness gleaming in the dimly lit room. Lucy's machines beeped on, her inhales and exhales near silent. Bobby felt a ragged sob tear loose from his throat and he fled the room in a blur of hateful tears and blinding pain.
X
Jerry pressed one shaking finger to the memory button on his phone. He paced while the other line rang. "C'mon, c'mon..." he said under his breath.
"What?"
He sighed and wiped a hand over his head. "Angel, don't hang up, man. It's me."
"I know that dumbass, caller i.d."
"Where's Bobby at?"
Angel paused and Jerry felt the air rush from his chest. "Why? You gonna come at me next? Or Em? How 'bout you be a fuckin' man an' go after Bobby, 'stead of us?"
"No, no, no, you don't even...Angel, I swear t' God, I didn't have nothin' to do with this! I tried to warn y'all, you know I did!"
"Bullshit, you know what happened! You got in bed with Victor Sweet, you fucking chickenshit liar!"
Jerry held his head in one hand, breathing hard. "I swear, I didn't know he was plannin' this, not something like this."
"They shot up Lucy, did you hear me, Jeremiah? They shot her the fuck up."
Jerry stumbled mid step, his eyes wide. "No...I...Oh Jesus Christ! I thought..."
"What?" Angel cooed, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "You thought it was jus' gonna be Jack, right? You thought Victor would send his boys an' take Jack outta the picture right?"
"I didn't arrange nothing!"
Angel laughed, the jagged sound of it sending shivers down Jerry's spine. "Yeah sure you didn't. Whatcha got against Jack? You an' me, it's you an' me, it's you an' me, they think we did it. I didn't like 'im, thought he was another Billy, but I was wrong, Jerry, fucking wrong! He's a kid, nothin' but a kid that Bobby's sweet on."
"Bobby's gonna kill me..." Jerry breathed, pure panic fueling him.
Angel snorted. "Tit for tat, maybe he'll take out your woman. There ain't nobody safe from Bobby Mercer, not now."
Jerry swallowed over the sour lump in his throat. "No..."
"If I was you, I'd be findin' out where Victor stashed the kid. Maybe then Bobby won't cut your fuckin' head off."
Jerry fought the urge to laugh hysterically. The phone slipped a bit in his hand, his fingers greasy with sweat. "Yeah, yeah Angel, I wasn't kiddin', once I heard, I tried t' tell y'all what was gonna go down. You hung up on me, man."
"Don't matter if you did or I did. Victor took Jack an' damn near killed Lucy. Ain't no mercy for none of us now." Angel hung up, the click of the phone sending a crash of new fear crawling through Jerry's limbs.
Jerry sat on the edge of his desk, his shoulders slumped. "God help me," he mumbled.
X
Bobby sat in the wooden pew in the hospital chapel, his eyes closed, head lowered. He took small breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating. The scent of wood, the familiar feel of absolute silence, stillness, calmness surrounded him. He fancied he could almost feel Evelyn sitting next to him. "Mom," he whispered.
He sighed and opened his eyes, looking about the chapel. "Ma, you remember all those times you tried to tell me about forgiveness?"
Silence answered him. He smiled, his lips curved down in sad, wistful memory. "Think maybe you were wrong. God doesn't care, He's laughin' at me and takin' everyone away. He ain't listenin'."
"God listens and hears our words. It's what we do with his words that matters."
Bobby flinched, his hands straying to the holstered gun he wore under his coat. "Who the fuck asked you?" he snapped at the woman that stood next to the pew.
She smiled at him, unruffled by his harsh words. "I'm sorry to intrude. You looked like you needed someone to talk to."
"Did I say I wanted t' talk to you?" he stilled his hand, watching her closely. She was very plain looking, nondescript was the first fleeting thought he had.
She tilted her head a little. "There's no better place than here when one needs to talk."
Bobby made a noncommittal grunt and looked away. "Why's there no answer when we talk if He's listening?"
She stepped into the row and sat down beside Bobby. "I think we hear what we want to when we ask a question of Him. In the silence, our answers come."
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's a whole lot of fucking help."
"You have so much anger inside you. You're hurting."
Bobby glared in her direction. "Look lady, I don't wanna talk an' my 'anger' isn't any of your concern, clear?"
"Your mother, she tried to show you how to listen."
He stared at her, his heart skipping a beat. "...What?"
The woman smiled again. "She tried and I think you did learn, but in your anger and hatred now, you can't remember the way nor can you find your faith. You're lost in your anger, lost in your suffering."
"How the hell do you...who are you? Do you even know who you're sittin' beside?"
"There's few people who wouldn't know you," she leaned forward and plucked a black book from the wooden shelving on the next pew. "I can feel your anger, your hurt and suffering. You believe God is punishing you."
Bobby snorted. "I know he is."
"You think your mother's death was your fault," she paged through the book idly, her eyes on the words before her.
"Stop it..."
"We often carry the burdens we imagine are ours to bear. It's a flaw for many."
Bobby felt fresh tears threaten behind his eyelids. "I...I wasn't there."
"Your mother would never hold you responsible for what happened." She lifted her gaze for a moment and Bobby fought the urge to recoil. How could he have thought her to be non descript when her eyes seemed to see right through him?
Eyes like Evelyn's...He shuddered a little. "You don't know everythin'. It's cause of me that she got killed."
"Are you certain of that?"
"You really don't know me at all, lady," Bobby took a breath and exhaled in one rush. "People like me, we forget that havin' families, it's a bad thing. We lose them all, one by one."
"You believe that you're undeserving of a loving family," she selected a page seemingly at random, her watchful gaze still set on Bobby. "Of being loved by anyone."
Bobby bit the inside of his cheek. He could feel the edges of his migraine receding. "Stop..."
"Of his love..."
"I said stop!"
"Or God's love."
"Damn it!" Bobby stood up, panting for breath. "Shut the fuck up! I don't need this, I don't have to listen to this shit!"
She lowered her gaze to the book and spoke in a low, soothing voice. "We fear being alone at times. We fear a life where we live without the love of another. You fear this."
"I'm not afraid of anythin'! Or anyone for that fucking matter!" Bobby shouted. He grimaced and clasped his hands to his head. "I'll kill them all, you wait an' see."
After several minutes, Bobby sat down, shaking. She ran her fingers over the printed words, line after line. "Do you hear what's said in silence?"
Bobby closed his eyes, sick to his stomach. "I don't hear anythin'."
"In the silence in this room, in any place of the world, you aren't alone." She rested her cool hand to Bobby's cheek, ignoring his muttered protests. "He has not abandoned you. You simply have to listen."
Bobby opened his mouth to protest when he felt a warmth wrap around him. He blinked and let out a breath.
She was gone.
Bobby licked his dry lips, his heart pounding against his ribcage. "Jesus..." He looked down at the bible that lay beside him on the pew and read the passage her finger had moved over.
'...and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.'
Bobby closed his eyes once more, pressed his hands together and began to pray silently, the warmth soothing him as he did so.
X
