Author's Note: I know the language is a bit much, and I normally don't fling obscenities around like this, but to keep the characters true to the movie, I kind of feel compelled to do so. Hope it doesn't offend anyone. Thanks, as always, to my lovely reviewers. Your kind words are fuel for my inspiration.
Pleased with my own cunning, I slipped out the front door with as much stealth as possible, then headed off in the direction of the corner store.
The more I walked, the more annoyed I became with Bobby's confiscation of my cigarettes.
I kicked at a beer can that was lying helpless in the street and glared at it as it clattered several feet ahead. How dare Bobby tackle me like that and snatch the cigarettes that I had bought? What gave him the right? Who declared Bobby Mercer to be Jack Mercer's moral compass, anyway?
I smiled to myself as the corner store I frequented to feed my nicotine addiction came into view. This would teach Bobby to hide my property.
After I'd gotten my cigarettes, paid and thanked the clerk, I headed out and walked back toward the house, contraband item in hand and a cocky spring to my step.
I opened the pack and shook one free as I stepped onto my lawn. In retrospect, this was a bit of a stupid move, but at the time I doubted anyone was watching.
I should have known better. This wasn't the first time I'd been dead-wrong.
As I reached to my back pocket for my lighter, I heard what could only be described as a battle-cry coming from my left. Confused, I turned just in time to watch my oldest brother vault over the hedge and make a beeline for me. I barely got a chance to process this information before Bobby slammed into me full-force, sending us both sprawling in the long grass in a tangle of limbs and a flurry of curses.
He flipped me over with more ease than I'd care to admit, climbing on top and pressing his knees into my kidneys. "I figured you'd be stupid enough to try to pull that shit," he ground out, mercilessly twisting my arm behind me until my fingers went numb and the pack dropped onto the small of my back. "I wasn't born yesterday, Jackie, my boy. I'm older. Wiser. I've seen 'em all. Every goddamn trick in the book. You can't outsmart me."
Shouting various obscenities, I struggled as mightily as I could, but I was no match for Bobby. He shifted his weight (more specifically, totally onto me) and the air rushed out of my lungs in a whoosh. Gasping for breath, I managed somehow to throw him off, but he rolled expertly and then was upon me again in seconds. I started coughing and he just laughed, thumping me hard on the back. This only increased my hacking, which I swear felt like it was coming from the depths of my soul. "See?" he said casually. "This is why I want you to quit. You can't even breathe, idiot."
My coughs subsided and I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but before I could, we heard the screen door bang open, and both paused long enough to discern who had materialized on the front steps. Angel stared back at us, not looking the least bit surprised that his oldest and youngest brothers were tussling in the yard.
He groaned. "Bobby, man, get up off Jack. What the hell are you doing?"
"Just takin' what was promised, Angel. Go on back inside. I've got this under control."
Jerry must have heard the commotion, because he came outside to investigate for himself. He stopped dead on the first step, gawking in disbelief. "The fuck?" he half-shouted. "What is going on here?! Bobby! Get your ass up before you crush our little brother! Jack, what did you do now?"
"Why is it always my fault?!" I gasped out, but everyone ignored me.
"Bobby!" Angel yelled again. "Get your cracker-ass up!"
Bobby seemed to be weighing his options. It was a quick decision. "Angel!" he yelled, tossing the pack in his general direction. "Catch!"
Angel nabbed my cigarettes in midair with one hand. Not for the first time, I begrudged him his quick reflexes and unerring hand-eye coordination.
Bobby didn't realize his mistake, but I did and wasted no time. He'd let go of my hand to throw my pack at our brother, and I seized my opportunity with pleasure. I reared back my arm and landed a decent punch to Bobby's jaw. He released me in his surprise. Guess he didn't expect the little fairy to retaliate, or to have such a strong right hook, for that matter. Even backward, I evidently have good aim. As I tried to untangle myself, Bobby hollered, "Go!" When Angel just stared at him, perplexed, he repeated himself in desperation. "GO!"
"Go wh—" Angel cut himself off, watching as I wrestled free of Bobby and leaped to my feet. When I started running toward him, he spun around and took off into the house, nearly bowling Jerry over in the process.
Jerry was smart enough to move aside as I ran up. I took the steps two at a time, but still couldn't catch up to Angel and almost ran into the front door as it was slammed in my face. I tried the knob, but found the door was locked. "Shit!" I growled, looking around. I was pleased to see the kitchen window was wide open. Wouldn't be the first time I'd climbed through it when all other entrances were blocked. I ran over, gripping the ledge with both hands as I easily hoisted myself up. Years of practice have paid off, apparently. I pulled myself inside, then dashed toward the stairs, knocking over a chair in my haste. I could hear Angel moving about on the second floor, and I knew I had to reach him before he did anything drastic with my cigarettes.
The bathroom door closed just as I reached the top of the stairs. I heard the click of the lock as I approached, but I flew at it anyway, pounding on it with my fists. "Angel! Open up! Let me in!" I heard him laugh, and my temper flared. "Dammit, Angel, you asshole, this is between Bobby and me!"
"Sorry, kid, no can do; I have my orders." Angel's disembodied voice was filled with amusement.
"Don't make me kick this door down!" I shouted. I had stepped back and was preparing to do just that when I heard the toilet flush. I froze as my heart sank.
"Too late, little brother," Angel announced loudly, contriving to sound sad.
"ANGEL!" I roared, furious.
I swear I could feel him shrug. "Oops. My bad. Sorry, Jack, they just fell in."
"And then what?" I shot back, balling my hands into fists at my sides. "They just flushed themselves?!"
Angel opened the door, stepping out and watching me with a calm expression of incredulity. "Yeah, it was the weirdest thing..."
I glared, but knew better than to start something with Mr. Ex-Marine. "Asshole. This wasn't none of your business, Angel. This was between me and Bobby. Didn't have a damn thing to do with you."
"Look, Jack, I don't answer to you. I answer to Bobby. He's the man of the house."
"Yeah. So it goes. How fucking predictable. When I have an opinion, it doesn't mean shit. But when Bobby asks you to jump, you ask, 'Off what, sir?' "
Angel scowled. "Piss off, Jack. They're gone. You've already thrown your hissy-fit, little sister, so move on and get over it. You're not gonna die without them."
I called him several unflattering things beneath my breath, then turned and walked into my room, shutting the door with more force than necessary.
"Don't slam doors in this house! You know Mom hated that!" Angel yelled after me, but I ignored him. The Mom card had already been played once today. I wasn't in the mood to acknowledge it again.
I decided that the best thing to do to avoid going off on Bobby and Angel would be to mess around with my guitar and see if I couldn't coax a decent melody out of it to go along with the harmony that had been running through my head for the past two days.
I retrieved my guitar case from where it leaned against my closet door, setting it gently down onto my bed and opening it with more care than most people would believe me capable of. I gazed down at my precious instrument, then ran my left index finger lovingly over the smooth surface before lifting it reverently out of the case. I'm sure this goes without saying, but man, I do love my guitar.
I settled down cross-legged on the bed and was just about to make sure it was in tune when I heard a knock on my door. Irritated, I glared at the door and snipped, "What?"
I wasn't surprised to hear Angel reply. "You still pissed?"
"No."
"Just a little sore, eh?"
"Go away, Angel."
"I wanted to ask you something," he said, knocking again as if that would compel me to open up.
I stayed right where I was. "I get the feeling you won't leave until I answer, so fine. Shoot."
"Are you going to try to go to the store again? Bobby's put you on house arrest and I'm sure I'll be the one stuck baby-sitting your ass most of the time, and I don't feel like chasing you all over town."
"No, I won't."
"How can I be sure?"
I shot the door another hard look. I didn't even really need to do this, as I already knew the answer, but I felt my back pocket anyway. Then sighed. Sure as the world. This is why it sucks to have brothers who are well-trained in the art of thievery. Rolling my eyes, I announced coldly to Angel, "Because Bobby took my wallet."
Angel laughed. "Good move. Well, Jackie-boy, guess you're just gonna have to go cold turkey. Won't that be fun." Annoyed, I tossed a shoe at the door. The resounding thump only made him laugh harder.
To be continued...