Author's Note: Out of nowhere I got an idea to explain Jack's horrified face after and during the car chase.

Disclaimer: I don't own Four Brothers. Well, I own the DVD, but you know what I mean.

I don't even know how it started, but I'm sure it was my fault. I always made my parents fight. Mama would give me some slack, but my dad would never let me hear the end of it. I bet I was only like six at the time. I didn't understand why he hated me. I know now why dad hated me, I wasn't his son. I wasn't my mama's son either. From what I remember from their fights I was mama's sister's son. She was a "crack whore" as my dad said. I didn't exactly know what that was at the time, but after mandatory therapy sessions, I've figured all these things out.

"I don't even care that he's my nephew. He is a little, bastard mutt and you know it. The kid is obviously gonna be a fuck up. He is already causing shit around here and I don't need to deal with him. Throw him out on the street where you know he belongs." He stepped on the gas and we went even faster. I didn't have my seat belt on. Hell, I don't even think I knew how to use one.

"No! He is just a baby! I'm not giving him up. He'd die out there!" she protested.

" I don't care!" He grabbed her by the hair and yanked at it. She screamed and the car swerved a little.

"Lori, stop fucking screaming! I'm sick of hearing you!" My dad screamed. I don't really remember much of it. I just remembered that I wanted my dad to stop hitting my mama.

"Greg, just stop. Please! Jack! Crouch down and cover your head Jack!" My mama pleaded.

I almost followed my mama's order, but my father piped up, "Don't even think of moving you little fuck. Sit up, and watch your mommy get what she deserves." Dad slapped her across the face and I swore people outside of the car could hear it.

"Daddy, no!" I tried to get him to stop. My mama was crying her eyes out and I just wanted to go home.

"Shut up!" He pulled a gun out from the inside of his coat and pointed it at me. He fired and missed.

"Jack!" My mother screamed.

My father pointed the gun at her face and her eyes got wide and pleading. Suddenly, she leaned forward and pushed the break pedal as hard she could. "Go!" I heard the car screech and two ear shattering bangs. My mother yelped, then stopped screaming. My father's eyes got wide and he started crying. He turned to me and his tears stopped. Another shot was fired and at first I felt nothing, but then my stomach felt as if someone stuck a sword that has been on the sun for three days in me. Burning radiating pain crippled me before I could crawl out of the car. A third and final bang went off and blood was coming out of my father's ears. The last thing I heard was faint sirens before it all went black.

I remembered all of that after years and years of therapy sessions trying to remember it. It was because after a terrifying car chace Angel and Bobby were shooting the guys who killed Mom. Part of me was glad that those bastards were dead, but I don't know. I just don't think anyone should die like that, not even my dad or those contract killers. Both of my moms died like that and I guess if you kill someone you die the same way.

Author's Note 2: Thank you again people of Garrett Minds!