Four Brothers
Apr. 1st, 2010 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veiledndarknessTitle: Strays 17/?
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.
Please be advised that this story does contain language which may offend some readers.
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
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
X
"You think he's gonna bolt?" Fowler asked. He ran two fingers over his tie, smoothing the faint wrinkles out of it. "He might've already if he knows half of what we know."
Green watched the numbers on the screen flash higher and higher in the elevator. It figured that Jerry would live in the penthouse condo suites. "He won't."
"How do you know?"
"I know Jerry. Man's a lotta things, but he isn't a coward. He won't run."
Fowler nodded. "Looks like he's done well by cozyin' up to Mercer. Places like this don't come cheap."
Green glanced at him. "Don't be impressed. Places like this are bought with blood money." He resumed staring at the digital numbers as the elevator whisked them higher into the sky. Sofi's words echoed, nagging at his memory. Fourth Street...He frowned deeply. Just how many places did Sweet own?
"I got a contact working on finding all his properties. Looks doubtful that he would have used his own name on all of them. You got an area or are we searchin' blind?"
Green blinked. "Uh, yeah, I got a tip, source told me about some warehouses on Fourth."
"Fourth?" Fowler's lip curled. "Jesus..."
"S' the area he'd have places. Guys like him don't trade illegals in nice neighborhoods. He'll blend with his surroundings."
Fowler shrugged. "He could be cocky enough to do it, sure he could."
"Victor Sweet never does nothin' like what you'd expect. Malcolm left one hell of a legacy when he washed up on shore. With Victor, you'd best believe he's got big fucking plans an' delusions of grandeur."
The door pinged open at the final floor. Fowler looked a touch queasy when they stepped out of the elevator, greeted by tall windows that showcased the city below them. "Forty goddamn floors up," he muttered. "Long way to fall."
"Keep that in mind," Green elbowed him and strode down the hallway. The entire penthouse was split into only two condos, one of which was Jerry's. He looked to Fowler and nodded, knocking loudly on the heavy wood door.
Silence greeted them. Green knocked again and leaned in, listening. "Jeremiah Williams?"
"Told you he woulda bolted," Fowler said under his breath.
Green ignored him. He knocked once more and then stood back. "Footsteps."
Heels clicked behind the door. "Who is this?" a female voice demanded.
"Lieutenant Green and Detective Fowler with the Detroit Police Department, I need to speak with Jeremiah. It's to do with Bobby Mercer."
Another prolonged moment of silence before several locks and chains slid out of place. The door opened a crack and the woman's eyes, narrowed in suspicion, peered out at them. "Prove it."
Fowler glared at her. "Look lady, we're not some grab ass security guards..."
Green waved him off. "Shut the fuck up. I'm sorry to bother you, Miss, but I need to speak to Jeremiah. I know he was in business with Bobby. Is he here?"
She stared back at them, her glossy lips pursed in disapproval. "He's not here, officers."
"Do you know when he'll be back? This is urgent."
She flicked a glance at them. "Soon..."
"Do you mind if we come in and wait?" he said, pushing the door open with his forearm, not waiting for her to refuse.
She took several steps back and then turned and walked away from the door, heels clacking again on the tiled floor. "Make yourselves right at home," she said over her shoulder. She picked up a cell phone from the table and turned away, whispering into it and snapping it shut..
Fowler closed the door behind them. "Charming lil' thing, isn't she?"
"You shut up an' let me deal with this," Green whispered. He followed behind her. "I didn't catch your name."
"Camille," she said. She sat down on the plush couch and crossed her legs, her skirt slipping a little over her shapely calves. She watched them, a hint of distrust in her eyes. "What's he done, what's that damned man got mine into now?"
Green sat on a chair across from her, nodding to Fowler to sit. "Do you mean Bobby Mercer?"
She rolled her eyes. "Like anyone else could make Jerry jump like a trained puppy. Course I mean him. What's he done now?"
"Has Jerry mentioned anything to you lately about Bobby?"
She leaned back against the cushions, anger sparking in her eyes. "He let him go. Like anyone else can run his 'empire' like Jerry. He's gonna crash an' crash hard."
Fowler took out a pad and pen from his coat pocket. "You're saying Jerry was more than a partner? That he took care of...things?"
"Did I say that?" she snapped at him. "No, I didn't, so you go on and write that down."
"Camille," Green interrupted smoothly. "You're aware that Bobby and Jerry had a fallin' out, obviously, but what we need to know is if Jerry ever discussed business with you. We've had some upheaval with Bobby and someone named Victor Sweet. Does that name sound familiar?"
Her eyes widened a little. "N-No..."
Fowler opened his mouth to speak, then closed it at the elbow to his side from Green. "I think maybe he mentioned Sweet to you, maybe even in passing? This is serious, Camille. Jerry's life might be in danger."
"And then where will you be? Back on the street corners?" Fowler got out.
Camille moved to stand, fury surging through her. "Oh, he did not call me a whore!" she shouted.
Green was up fast, holding her arms carefully. "No, no, you ignore him, listen to me, ok? Listen to me...C'mon, look at me now," he soothed, drawing her attention again. "He's new, he don't know better, you tell me what you know an' we'll get Jerry and you someplace safe."
She shivered. "Safe from who? Sweet or Mercer?"
X
He drove past another building, his car at a steady thirty down the road. Each building looked nearly the same, rundown and unused. Many had broken windows and trampled wire fencing. Bobby pitched a cigarette out the window and exhaled. "Fuckin' Motor City," he muttered. These buildings, these areas had scared and protected him on many a night. He frowned and grabbed his cell phone from the passenger seat where it lay, chirping at him.
"What?"
"Met up with someone," the wind caught Angel's voice, distorting it. "No houses, Bobby, don't bother there."
Bobby's brow furrowed. "Who?"
"Never mind on who. Meet up with me, I got an idea where we can look."
"I wanna know who snitched on Sweet, y' hear me, Angel?" Bobby shouted, his restraint thin over his anger. "I wanna know what the fuck is goin' on!"
Angel sighed. "Later man, later. I got Em back home. She said t' doctors still got nothin' on Lucy's gettin' better."
Bobby clenched his teeth, raw anger bubbling, hatred burning through veins. "House locked up?" he managed to ask without screaming.
"Yeah, she's safe, got everythin' she needs. She said t' tell you t' come home an' sleep in case your head blows up or some shit."
"I'm fine," he said automatically. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and pulled over to the side of the road, resting his head to the cool leather of the wheel. His head was pounding, there was no escaping that. He swallowed and pushed at the pain, willing it to fade. "Angel, you gotta meet with me soon. The longer we wait..."
Angel sighed again. "Don't even think it, Bobby."
Bobby closed his eyes, furious tears prickling under his eyelids. "Meet on Persanth and South, hurry the fuck up. I promised him he'd be safe, damn it! You don't...We hafta find him, I swear I'll take them all out to find him."
"We'll find him. Meet with you in thirty. Just...breathe, Bobby. Breathe..."
X
Green got the call an hour or so after they left Jerry's condo, Camille's information tucked away in his book. He exhaled heavily in the car, his attention miles away. Detective Fowler drove the car, his lips thinned with great disapproval. Green looked at him and shook his head.
"You don't rile up your witnesses, Fowler. That's entry level shit, you oughta know better!"
Fowler snorted. "Who gives a shit. She's no better than any other street walking whore."
Green glared at him. "Shut your fucking mouth. If you can't treat ev'rybody with the same respect, no matter what they do, then you're in the wrong business, boy."
"I ever tell you that you're my civil rights hero?" Fowler drawled. "The fucking wind beneath my rookie wings."
"Shut up an' drive." Green pointed to the road as his cell went off. "Make it quick, I'm on the road," he said, tucking the phone under his chin. "Yeah...Weston? You know there's beat guys for this right? So call them an' tell them t' handle this, I got bigger shit to do right now."
Green fell silent, grim resignation tightening his mouth. "Yeah..." he closed the phone and let it slip onto his lap. "We got a body to see."
"The fuck? Aren't we kinda, oh I don't know, trying to keep a blood war from happening right now?"
Green rubbed a hand over his face. "Contact says this is tied in. Bobby's executions, boy keeps to a pattern."
"All this info on the shit he does, and is the man behind bars? No sir," Fowler grumbled under his breath as he drove. "Weston and what?"
"Do I really need to explain lack of evidence to you? Weston and Keale...off the side street."
"Oh for Christ's sake! We all know what he does, everyone knows!"
Green smirked a little. "Knowin' an' provin' is two different things. Make it quick, we don't got a lot of time here."
X
"Bobby..." Jack shifted on the cold cement floor, shivering violently. His leather jacket was no match for the chill of the building and the harsh temperatures outside. He clenched his teeth and tried to sit up, a short sob escaping him at the fresh burst of pain in his ribs.
"Fuckin' hell," he bit at his split lips and waited for the sharp stabbing pains to ebb, tears running down his cheeks. He touched one hand to his jacket, nudging the material out of the way. Under his shirt, he could feel his clammy skin, feel the goosebumps. He moaned a little. "Broken? Please God..." he whispered. "Let them be cracked or somethin'..."
Jack looked over at the door, cringing at the sound of distant footsteps. Caught like a mouse, he thought with a hysterical giggle.
When no footsteps came any closer, he exhaled. "Bobby, man, now would be good for a miracle," Jack closed his eyes, a tiny smile forming. "Know you can...if you want me..."
He sighed and curled up, shifting his left arm, pins and needles prickling up and down his skin. He couldn't see much of anything in the darkened room. There were a few dirty windows high above him, what looked like boxes off to one side and piping up along the wall he was chained to.
He squinted, peering at the walls, struggling to ignore the growing panic inside. “Don't...don't even think about it, no cuffs, no tied down, no bad boy today,” he chanted, his smile fading away. “Bobby...Jesus, please don't let me fucking die like this. I ain't all bad...”
He licked at his lips again, trembling anew. What was it Victor Sweet had said? Using him to lure Bobby...Jack hung his head, “Lucy...Lucy girl.” He felt a surge of hatred for Sweet and closed his eyes. “Fuckin' prick...Usin' us like some kinda pawns...”
Jack drifted for some time, half asleep, half awake, in a floating daze of pain and overwhelming panic. Through numb lips, he began to sing, nearly whispering. “When I find myself in times of trouble...Mother Mary comes to me...speaking words of wisdom...” his voice cracked.
Jack swallowed and gave in to the tiny, frightened sobs that he couldn't ignore any longer.
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.
Please be advised that this story does contain language which may offend some readers.
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
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
X
"You think he's gonna bolt?" Fowler asked. He ran two fingers over his tie, smoothing the faint wrinkles out of it. "He might've already if he knows half of what we know."
Green watched the numbers on the screen flash higher and higher in the elevator. It figured that Jerry would live in the penthouse condo suites. "He won't."
"How do you know?"
"I know Jerry. Man's a lotta things, but he isn't a coward. He won't run."
Fowler nodded. "Looks like he's done well by cozyin' up to Mercer. Places like this don't come cheap."
Green glanced at him. "Don't be impressed. Places like this are bought with blood money." He resumed staring at the digital numbers as the elevator whisked them higher into the sky. Sofi's words echoed, nagging at his memory. Fourth Street...He frowned deeply. Just how many places did Sweet own?
"I got a contact working on finding all his properties. Looks doubtful that he would have used his own name on all of them. You got an area or are we searchin' blind?"
Green blinked. "Uh, yeah, I got a tip, source told me about some warehouses on Fourth."
"Fourth?" Fowler's lip curled. "Jesus..."
"S' the area he'd have places. Guys like him don't trade illegals in nice neighborhoods. He'll blend with his surroundings."
Fowler shrugged. "He could be cocky enough to do it, sure he could."
"Victor Sweet never does nothin' like what you'd expect. Malcolm left one hell of a legacy when he washed up on shore. With Victor, you'd best believe he's got big fucking plans an' delusions of grandeur."
The door pinged open at the final floor. Fowler looked a touch queasy when they stepped out of the elevator, greeted by tall windows that showcased the city below them. "Forty goddamn floors up," he muttered. "Long way to fall."
"Keep that in mind," Green elbowed him and strode down the hallway. The entire penthouse was split into only two condos, one of which was Jerry's. He looked to Fowler and nodded, knocking loudly on the heavy wood door.
Silence greeted them. Green knocked again and leaned in, listening. "Jeremiah Williams?"
"Told you he woulda bolted," Fowler said under his breath.
Green ignored him. He knocked once more and then stood back. "Footsteps."
Heels clicked behind the door. "Who is this?" a female voice demanded.
"Lieutenant Green and Detective Fowler with the Detroit Police Department, I need to speak with Jeremiah. It's to do with Bobby Mercer."
Another prolonged moment of silence before several locks and chains slid out of place. The door opened a crack and the woman's eyes, narrowed in suspicion, peered out at them. "Prove it."
Fowler glared at her. "Look lady, we're not some grab ass security guards..."
Green waved him off. "Shut the fuck up. I'm sorry to bother you, Miss, but I need to speak to Jeremiah. I know he was in business with Bobby. Is he here?"
She stared back at them, her glossy lips pursed in disapproval. "He's not here, officers."
"Do you know when he'll be back? This is urgent."
She flicked a glance at them. "Soon..."
"Do you mind if we come in and wait?" he said, pushing the door open with his forearm, not waiting for her to refuse.
She took several steps back and then turned and walked away from the door, heels clacking again on the tiled floor. "Make yourselves right at home," she said over her shoulder. She picked up a cell phone from the table and turned away, whispering into it and snapping it shut..
Fowler closed the door behind them. "Charming lil' thing, isn't she?"
"You shut up an' let me deal with this," Green whispered. He followed behind her. "I didn't catch your name."
"Camille," she said. She sat down on the plush couch and crossed her legs, her skirt slipping a little over her shapely calves. She watched them, a hint of distrust in her eyes. "What's he done, what's that damned man got mine into now?"
Green sat on a chair across from her, nodding to Fowler to sit. "Do you mean Bobby Mercer?"
She rolled her eyes. "Like anyone else could make Jerry jump like a trained puppy. Course I mean him. What's he done now?"
"Has Jerry mentioned anything to you lately about Bobby?"
She leaned back against the cushions, anger sparking in her eyes. "He let him go. Like anyone else can run his 'empire' like Jerry. He's gonna crash an' crash hard."
Fowler took out a pad and pen from his coat pocket. "You're saying Jerry was more than a partner? That he took care of...things?"
"Did I say that?" she snapped at him. "No, I didn't, so you go on and write that down."
"Camille," Green interrupted smoothly. "You're aware that Bobby and Jerry had a fallin' out, obviously, but what we need to know is if Jerry ever discussed business with you. We've had some upheaval with Bobby and someone named Victor Sweet. Does that name sound familiar?"
Her eyes widened a little. "N-No..."
Fowler opened his mouth to speak, then closed it at the elbow to his side from Green. "I think maybe he mentioned Sweet to you, maybe even in passing? This is serious, Camille. Jerry's life might be in danger."
"And then where will you be? Back on the street corners?" Fowler got out.
Camille moved to stand, fury surging through her. "Oh, he did not call me a whore!" she shouted.
Green was up fast, holding her arms carefully. "No, no, you ignore him, listen to me, ok? Listen to me...C'mon, look at me now," he soothed, drawing her attention again. "He's new, he don't know better, you tell me what you know an' we'll get Jerry and you someplace safe."
She shivered. "Safe from who? Sweet or Mercer?"
X
He drove past another building, his car at a steady thirty down the road. Each building looked nearly the same, rundown and unused. Many had broken windows and trampled wire fencing. Bobby pitched a cigarette out the window and exhaled. "Fuckin' Motor City," he muttered. These buildings, these areas had scared and protected him on many a night. He frowned and grabbed his cell phone from the passenger seat where it lay, chirping at him.
"What?"
"Met up with someone," the wind caught Angel's voice, distorting it. "No houses, Bobby, don't bother there."
Bobby's brow furrowed. "Who?"
"Never mind on who. Meet up with me, I got an idea where we can look."
"I wanna know who snitched on Sweet, y' hear me, Angel?" Bobby shouted, his restraint thin over his anger. "I wanna know what the fuck is goin' on!"
Angel sighed. "Later man, later. I got Em back home. She said t' doctors still got nothin' on Lucy's gettin' better."
Bobby clenched his teeth, raw anger bubbling, hatred burning through veins. "House locked up?" he managed to ask without screaming.
"Yeah, she's safe, got everythin' she needs. She said t' tell you t' come home an' sleep in case your head blows up or some shit."
"I'm fine," he said automatically. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and pulled over to the side of the road, resting his head to the cool leather of the wheel. His head was pounding, there was no escaping that. He swallowed and pushed at the pain, willing it to fade. "Angel, you gotta meet with me soon. The longer we wait..."
Angel sighed again. "Don't even think it, Bobby."
Bobby closed his eyes, furious tears prickling under his eyelids. "Meet on Persanth and South, hurry the fuck up. I promised him he'd be safe, damn it! You don't...We hafta find him, I swear I'll take them all out to find him."
"We'll find him. Meet with you in thirty. Just...breathe, Bobby. Breathe..."
X
Green got the call an hour or so after they left Jerry's condo, Camille's information tucked away in his book. He exhaled heavily in the car, his attention miles away. Detective Fowler drove the car, his lips thinned with great disapproval. Green looked at him and shook his head.
"You don't rile up your witnesses, Fowler. That's entry level shit, you oughta know better!"
Fowler snorted. "Who gives a shit. She's no better than any other street walking whore."
Green glared at him. "Shut your fucking mouth. If you can't treat ev'rybody with the same respect, no matter what they do, then you're in the wrong business, boy."
"I ever tell you that you're my civil rights hero?" Fowler drawled. "The fucking wind beneath my rookie wings."
"Shut up an' drive." Green pointed to the road as his cell went off. "Make it quick, I'm on the road," he said, tucking the phone under his chin. "Yeah...Weston? You know there's beat guys for this right? So call them an' tell them t' handle this, I got bigger shit to do right now."
Green fell silent, grim resignation tightening his mouth. "Yeah..." he closed the phone and let it slip onto his lap. "We got a body to see."
"The fuck? Aren't we kinda, oh I don't know, trying to keep a blood war from happening right now?"
Green rubbed a hand over his face. "Contact says this is tied in. Bobby's executions, boy keeps to a pattern."
"All this info on the shit he does, and is the man behind bars? No sir," Fowler grumbled under his breath as he drove. "Weston and what?"
"Do I really need to explain lack of evidence to you? Weston and Keale...off the side street."
"Oh for Christ's sake! We all know what he does, everyone knows!"
Green smirked a little. "Knowin' an' provin' is two different things. Make it quick, we don't got a lot of time here."
X
"Bobby..." Jack shifted on the cold cement floor, shivering violently. His leather jacket was no match for the chill of the building and the harsh temperatures outside. He clenched his teeth and tried to sit up, a short sob escaping him at the fresh burst of pain in his ribs.
"Fuckin' hell," he bit at his split lips and waited for the sharp stabbing pains to ebb, tears running down his cheeks. He touched one hand to his jacket, nudging the material out of the way. Under his shirt, he could feel his clammy skin, feel the goosebumps. He moaned a little. "Broken? Please God..." he whispered. "Let them be cracked or somethin'..."
Jack looked over at the door, cringing at the sound of distant footsteps. Caught like a mouse, he thought with a hysterical giggle.
When no footsteps came any closer, he exhaled. "Bobby, man, now would be good for a miracle," Jack closed his eyes, a tiny smile forming. "Know you can...if you want me..."
He sighed and curled up, shifting his left arm, pins and needles prickling up and down his skin. He couldn't see much of anything in the darkened room. There were a few dirty windows high above him, what looked like boxes off to one side and piping up along the wall he was chained to.
He squinted, peering at the walls, struggling to ignore the growing panic inside. “Don't...don't even think about it, no cuffs, no tied down, no bad boy today,” he chanted, his smile fading away. “Bobby...Jesus, please don't let me fucking die like this. I ain't all bad...”
He licked at his lips again, trembling anew. What was it Victor Sweet had said? Using him to lure Bobby...Jack hung his head, “Lucy...Lucy girl.” He felt a surge of hatred for Sweet and closed his eyes. “Fuckin' prick...Usin' us like some kinda pawns...”
Jack drifted for some time, half asleep, half awake, in a floating daze of pain and overwhelming panic. Through numb lips, he began to sing, nearly whispering. “When I find myself in times of trouble...Mother Mary comes to me...speaking words of wisdom...” his voice cracked.
Jack swallowed and gave in to the tiny, frightened sobs that he couldn't ignore any longer.
X
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-04-07 11:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-04 03:10 am (UTC)I'm all pins and needles here; Bobby and Angel and Green and every-freaking-body needs to find Jack, like, NOW.
And then Bobby needs to rip Sweet apart and have a snuggle/lovin' fest with Cracker Jack. :D
no subject
Date: 2010-04-07 11:57 pm (UTC)