A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for reading and thanks for the reviews! I will update as often as I can! Anyway, here is chapter 2.

Disclaimer: I don't own Four Brothers or anything else I should mention that I obviously don't own.

Note: Again, I'm not entirely sure what music Jack would like. Specific bands anyway. So I'm sticking to Metallica for now because that's one I know lol. Anyone got any suggestions of bands his character would like or listen to so I don't continually write about Metallica?

…

Chapter Two:

"This stuff is fucking boring," Bobby muttered, examining a lace napkin sample thing that Camille had brought home from the store. He threw it back in the pile of other lace-type things and sat back in his chair. "Do you really need all this shit, Jer?"

Jerry shrugged but didn't answer. He was busy flipping through a tuxedo magazine to even look up at Bobby. The whole dining room table was completely covered with countless wedding magazines, material samples, pamphlets and business cards. The last hour and a half was spent leafing through magazines and trying to decide on everything from theme colours to what kind of food to have.

Correction—the last hour and a half was spent doing all that by Camille, Sofi and Evelyn. Bobby, Angel and Jerry sat around the table looking as bored as can be. Jerry, at least, was trying to make an effort by looking at tuxedos. Angel was silent most of the time, growing more and more fearful as Sofi's eyes continued to glow with excitement at all this wedding planning. All this made Bobby sure that he was never going to get married or that if, for some insane reason, he did end up getting married, it would be in a quick and easy place in Vegas.

"No, fucking seriously," Bobby said, pushing a stack of magazines away from him. "This is horrible."

Jerry finally looked up from his magazine. "Calm down, Bobby. I promised Camille ya'll would help us!"

"I didn't sign up for this shit, Jerry," Bobby replied. "Look at your brother," he nodded his head towards to Angel. "He's fucking shell-shocked by all this wedding shit." He picked up a magazine and threw it at Angel's head. It seemed to snap him out of his state.

"Ow, Bobby, what the fuck, man?"

The women looked up from the other end of the table at Angel's loud outburst. Up until this point, they had been engrossed in their discussion of bridesmaid's dresses.

"I know you boys are probably bored," Evelyn began. "But—"

"Bored doesn't cover it, Ma," Bobby said, not letting her finish. "We don't do this stuff. Jackie's more the type for this girlie shit." He looked at the clock then, raising his eye-brows when he realized the time. "Where is the little fairy anyway?"

"Yes," Evelyn said, a worried expression forming on her face. "Shouldn't he have been home an hour ago?"

Bobby stood. "No, it's okay, Ma. The scatterbrained fairy probably lost track of time. We'll find him." He motioned for Jerry and Angel to follow him into the kitchen.

"What gives, Bobby?" Jerry asked when they were out of earshot of the women. "You've been on top of Jack all week."

"Yeah," Angel said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. "Since when do you care when he doesn't come home right away?"

Bobby sighed. He figured he should tell them now—he didn't before because he figured he could handle it himself. He quickly gave his brothers the nutshell version of what Jack had told him. Jack hadn't seen the black car following him since he had confided in Bobby but that didn't necessarily mean it had stopped for good.

"So, who's this car that's been following him?" Jerry asked after Bobby had finished speaking.

"If I fucking knew that, Jerry," Bobby said with an annoyed expression, "we wouldn't be talking about it!"

"How about Julian Connors?" Angel suggested after a few seconds of silence had passed between them.

Bobby thought about it for a moment. "Yeah. I guess." He scowled. "I fucking hate that guy."

"But he is good at finding people," Angel said and Bobby rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Call him then, Angel."

"What about Jack?" Jerry asked, nodding towards the clock. "Where do you think he is?"

"Probably at his new little boyfriend's house," Bobby replied, walking over the fridge and grabbing a beer. He threw one to Angel and Jerry. "One of you fucks go get your little sister."

Jerry placed his unopened beer on the counter and began to back away from his brothers and towards the door. "Sorry, Bobby but I gotta help Camille…." And with that, he was gone, back to the land of wedding planning.

Bobby turned his gaze to Angel, raising his eye-brows expectantly.

"Oh Bobby, come on, man…"

"Just go fucking get the fairy," Bobby said, downing half his beer. "Take la vida loca with you."

"Don't call her that," Angel said and scowled. "Fine I'll go pick him up. Where the hell does this kid live anyway?"

"Ma knows, go fucking ask her," Bobby replied, giving Angel a little push out of the kitchen. He laughed as Angel shot a death glare his way.

Bobby chuckled to himself as he watched Angel tell Sofi he'd be back soon and then leave the house with a sullen expression on his face. He downed the rest of his beer and grabbed his jacket from the kitchen chair and left from the back door. Pausing on the porch, he quickly scanned his eyes over the backyard. Shrugging, he continued on his way.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

…

"You're crazy, man!"

Jack smirked. "I am not! I'm right. And you know it."

Mark shook his head and threw his pillow at Jack who was sitting in the desk chair. Jack ducked and the pillow knocked over the desk lamp. The old black lamp hit the ground and the light bulb shattered. The two looked at each other for a few seconds with bewildered expressions until Mark shrugged and waved it off.

"I'll get that later," he said. "Now seriously, are you fucking nuts? Enter Sandman is ten times better than One. Hands down. I don't even know why we're having this conversation!"

"We're having this conversation," Jack said with a roll of his eyes, "because you won't let it go. One is much better musically."

"Dude!" Mark was not having it. He grew more animated as the conversation continued and waved his hands wildly to make his point. "I don't care that you play guitar; it doesn't mean you are knowledgeable in music! I'm telling you, Enter Sandman is the supreme song. It's just….it's-oh I know what I'm talking about!"

Jack outright chuckled this time. "This coming from the guy with the Barbara Streisand CD…."

"Hey man, I told you, that CD isn't mine!"

"Right."

Both boys tried to hold their smiles from each other but both failed after only a few seconds and they burst into loud laughter. Their friendship had moulded quickly over the past week; they seemed to share the same interests in almost everything but music was the sole thing that seemed to have brought them together. It would seem that they were almost inseparable. At school, they were constantly together and almost every day after school for the past week, they got together. One seeing them for the first time would most surely come to the conclusion that they had been friends all their lives.

Of course, this resulted in endless teasing from Bobby. Constant allusions were made to Jack's "boyfriend" or Jack's "little friend." Jack did his best to ignore Bobby like usual but there were times where it got too much and he would storm off in anger. He always regretted doing that because Bobby would call him a princess after. He sighed internally as thought about it. He wasn't going to let Bobby bother him; not about this. Jack was happy to finally have a friend who he could hang out with and talk to; someone that actually understood what he liked instead of insulting it. Lord he knew he didn't want to hang out with his brothers for the rest of his life.

"Jack? Hello?"

Jack snapped out of his reverie just then. He gave Mark an apologetic smile. "Sorry man," he said. "I was just thinking."

"So," Mark said, nodding towards Jack's cell phone that sat on the desk, "I'm surprised your brother didn't call you yet."

Jack scoffed. "Yeah I know. I'm surprised he isn't banging down the door looking for me."

"Why is he constantly on you?" Mark asked, cocking his head to the side. His expression was confused as if a protective older brother was a foreign concept to him.

"I don't know," Jack said with a shrug. "I'm the youngest so I guess he thinks I need to be constantly watched. Like I might get kidnapped or walk off a cliff if I'm left alone." A look of distain mixed with slight anger crossed his face. It was a look usually only adopted by one of the young ones in a family; one who felt smothered by being constantly overprotected and worried about. "Curse of being the youngest, I guess," Jack said finally with a sigh, the expression leaving his face.

Anyone looking closely at Mark could see jealousy flash in his eyes for the briefest of moments as Jack was speaking. But Jack was looking at his hands while he spoke and didn't notice anything. Before Mark could say anything, the sound of the doorbell ringing reverberated through the house. Both of them stood and looked down from Mark's bedroom window. Jack grimaced when he saw who was out the door.

"It figures!" Jack said in an annoyed tone. "Speaking of one of the fuckin' devils."

"Who's that?" Mark asked as Jack began to grab all of his belongings.

"My brother," Jack replied. He and Mark left the room and made their way downstairs. Just as they reached the landing, the doorbell rang again. It seemed to piss Jack off more.

Mark looked confused. "But he's-well, I don't want to sound-umm-"

"We're adopted," Jack offered in explanation as he pulled on his converse shoes.

"Oh, okay, cool," Mark said, nodding in understanding. "How many do you have?"

"Three," Jack said. He was in the process of getting into his leather jacket as Mark opened the door.

"Come on Jackie," Angel said. He looked bored and not happy that he had to be the one to pick Jack up. Fuckin' Bobby, he thought to himself. "Hurry up," Angel said before turning and walking down the steps.

"Sorry." Jack turned to Mark and shrugged. "I gotta go now."

"See you tomorrow!"

Jack nodded in reply and then walked down the steps to meet Angel. He didn't say anything as they walked away from the house. Mark stood there watching them for a few moments before shutting the door. He slumped against the door, letting out a sigh so deep that he thought his chest would crack open. The guilt he had grew everyday and he felt it burn in his stomach. It seemed to grow worse with each passing day. He hated doing this and wished he didn't have to. He really did like Jack. After all, Jack was the only friend he ever had. Sighing again, he pushed himself away from the door, preparing to go back to his room.

It'll be over soon, he told himself though it was no consolation.

A door creaking open suddenly caught him off guard and he spun around, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He locked eyes with his older brother who was just closing the basement door behind him.

"I—I didn't know you were home," Mark stammered nervously. "I didn't-I thought you were out."

"I wanted to make sure you were doing your job properly," was his brother's reply. His voice was gravelly and had an edge to it like he was always one step away from ripping your throat out. Mark should have been used to it by now but it still gave him chills.

His brother walked forward and for a second, the light from the window hit the side of his face and caused his scar to glow. It was a long, jagged line that began at the corner of his eyes and ended at the middle of his cheek. The scar had always scared Mark; his brother told him that he had gotten it in bar fight. Mark tried not to look at it.

"Well then," his brother said, taking another step forward. He was getting closer to Mark. "Are you doing your job properly?"

"I am," Mark said with more confidence than he felt. "I swear! It's just-" He stopped himself. He didn't want to start anything.

But it was too late.

"What?"

"No, nothing," Mark said quickly. He began to back away into the small living room. It was cramped; it only had a couch, two chairs, a broken table and an old TV set. Mark didn't have much space to move around.

"Oh no, NO!" his brother said loudly, slamming his hand against the wall and causing Mark to jump. "You were fucking saying something! What is it?" A sudden knowing expression crossed his features and he shook his head. "You are having second thoughts aren't you?"

"No I…."

"Aren't you, you little shit?" he said, this time more forcefully. He took a step towards Mark.

In spite of himself, Mark nodded. "I'm sorry, I just-do we really have to do this? I really like Jack. He's—he's my friend." He nervously pulled at the silver cross around his neck. By the way his brother's eyes darkened, he knew he would need some sort of divine protection.

"What happened to 'I won't fail you' and 'I know exactly what to do'?" the older brother spat angrily. He began to pace, throwing his hands up in the air as he spoke. His voice rose higher as he became angrier. "I knew you would fucking crack! You are a weak little shit!" He didn't give Mark a chance; he backhanded him causing him to fall to the ground.

"No! I'm sorry! I didn't—"

Mark was cut off when his brother kicked him in the ribs, hard. He gasped for air and held his stomach. He looked up at his brother and saw only pure anger and hate radiating from him. His brother was screaming curses and kicking him over and over again. Mark's screams of pain did nothing to stop him. He should have known this was coming. He wished he could have just kept his mouth shut. Finally, his brother did stop, having grown tired. It was completely silent, save for Mark's whimpers of pain and his brother's laboured breathing.

"You listen to me," the older of the two said, looking down at Mark. "I never want to hear you say what you said ever again. Do you understand?"

Mark nodded quickly. He had to force away the tears that threatened to fall. He wasn't allowed to cry. Crying showed weakness and weakness wasn't allowed in his brother's house. With a sudden swift movement, he was picked up from the ground and thrown into the nearest chair.

"Remember," his brother said, standing in front of him. He tore the front of his white t-shirt open suddenly and easily as if he was ripping paper. He pointed to the letters tattooed on his chest. "What does it say?"

Mark looked at the tattoo. He had seen it many times and practically had each intricate detail memorized. His brother made him go when he had it tattooed. Mark had to sit by him for six hours and watch as the two words were permanently drawn on his brother's skin. He was always reminded of the tattoo when his brother felt that he had forgotten or lost sight of what he called their "mission."

"What does it say?" his brother repeated and slapped him for not answering fast enough.

"Ultionem Fraternae," Mark said quietly. He didn't even have to look at it. He had memorized the words long ago.

"And what does that mean?"

Mark sighed before meeting his brother's gaze dead on. "Revenge for a brother," he whispered quietly.

"Good. You remember that next time when you decide to question the mission."

And with that, his brother turned and left. Mark slumped low in the chair and wished for a moment that he could cry. But that was something he had forgotten how to do a long time ago.

…

Jack walked home from school slowly the next day. He was still pissed off at Bobby. When Angel came to get him from Mark's house, he didn't say one word. It was fine for Angel; he was already mad that he was sent to get Jack. Jack didn't expect Angel to say anything to him anyway. But when Bobby returned home after dinner, he definitely had something to say. He cornered Jack in is room and bawled him out for not coming home after school or not calling to say where he was. Bobby had told him that if he didn't come home right after school the next day he would "come and find you and drag you home by your fucking pixie hair!"

At sixteen years old, all Jack wanted was a little independence. He spent the past few years being protected and watched over by his three brothers and he was beginning to grow sick of it. Evelyn worried for him too but at least she let him leave the house without giving him the third degree. Bobby, on the other hand, was something else. He was worried that something would happen to him—more so now that Jack had told him that a car followed him. The rational part of him knew that he was being stupid and that he was lucky to have people that cared about him enough to worry. But stubbornness always prevailed and his anger continued to boil inside of him as he walked home.

He was angry also because he was looking forward to going to the record store with Mark. They had made plans to go two days ago and Jack was excited. He loved going to the little shop and looking through the mass amounts of vinyl records they had. Some dated back to as early as the 1950s. But, thanks to Bobby, his plans were dashed. He sucked in a lungful of air and then slowly exhaled; calming himself with the thought that one day he'd go off to New York alone to pursue his music career. That was about as alone as you could get. He couldn't wait.

A sudden feeling of being watched swept over him and he slowly turned to look behind him. Sure enough, a good way up the block but still visible was the black car with tinted windows that had been following him a week ago. Fear filled him immediately and he felt his heart start to beat faster. He looked up and down the street and silently cursed to himself when he realized that he was the only one there. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to do. His started to grab for his cell phone, so that he could call Bobby but he stopped.

No, he thought stubbornly. I don't need Bobby. I can handle this myself.

Calmly, he kept walking as if he was oblivious of the car that was slowly inching forward with every step that he took. For another painstaking five minutes, it remained like this; Jack walking and the car creeping at a snail's pace behind him. Once he reached the end of the street, he turned right, instead of turning left onto his street, and quickly ducked into the convenience store. He bought a pack of cigarettes and a Coke so he wouldn't look suspicious to the shopkeeper and when he exited the store again, the black car was nowhere in sight. With a sigh of relief, he began to walk towards home.

See, I can take of myself, he thought as he walked home.

…

"The fairy princess arrives!" Bobby said, putting down his newspaper and chuckling as Jack walked into the house. Angel, who was sitting next to Bobby, joined in the laughter.

Jack just scowled and began to make his way up to his room. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. He was angry from the previous day and more than shaken up from being followed again. He had decided as he walked home that he wasn't going to mention it. He was sure that he had taken care of it—for now at least.

"Hey Jackie, wait!" Bobby called before Jack had fully made it up the stairs. "Come here for a second."

Jack cursed under his breath and turned back down the stairs. He leaned against the doorway to the living room and waited. He was starting to feel tired and he just wanted to crash for a few hours before dinner. But something on Bobby's face told him he wouldn't get to do that just yet.

"You gotta unload the dishwasher," Bobby said. Jack could swear he was smirking a bit.

"Bobby!" he exclaimed with his eyes widened. "You were home all day. Why didn't you do it?"

"Cause, princess, it was waiting for you," Bobby said with a grin. "Now get to it. Me and Angel have something to take care of. Tell Ma we'll be home before dinner." Bobby stood and looked down at Angel. "Let's go!"

Angel seemed enticed by the TV. "Wait I wanna see what happens—"

"Oh get the fuck over it!" Bobby said, pulling Angel up by the arm and giving him shove towards the door. "The broad takes her clothes off then the ship sinks and everyone dies. The end."

"All right, all right, I'm going!" Angel said. "Fuck, Bobby."

"Go do the dishwasher, Jackie!" Bobby said before shutting the door behind him.

Jack exhaled the breath he was holding in, shook his head and went to do the dishwasher.

It never ends, he thought to himself.

…

"He better fucking be here," Bobby said, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he and Angel stood outside the old-looking house in which Julian Connor lived.

"He said he would," Angel replied. He looked Bobby up and down and grinned. "What the hell you look so nervous for? Worried you'll run into Patricia?"

"Fuck off, Angel," Bobby said, punching his brother in the arm. "I don't give a fuck about her."

"No, but she looooooooves you," Angel laughed and ducked as Bobby took a swing at his head.

"Just ring the fucking doorbell again!"

"Okay, okay," Angel said, laughing. He pressed the button on the side of the door and then looked inside one of the windows. The house was completely dark inside. But then he saw a flicker of movement. "See, he's coming."

"Fuckin' wonderful," Bobby muttered just before the door was opened.

Julian Connors was a tall, wiry guy with puffy red hair that stuck out every which way and skin that was so white it was nearly translucent. Bobby wouldn't rule out the word vampire if asked to describe him. He blinked and shielded his eyes from the sun as if he hadn't been out in the sun for weeks. He wore a dirty red robe over a stained undershirt and boxer shorts. He gave Bobby a disdainful look but grinned when he saw Angel. They shook hands and exchanged happy greetings.

"Angel Mercer!" Julian exclaimed. His voice was slightly squeaky. "How've you been, man?"

"Can't complain," Angel replied with a shrug. "So listen, man, we need some help tracking someone down."

Julian raised his hands to stop Angel from talking. "Say no more, dude. Come in, come in!" He moved aside and let them walk into the house.

Bobby had to bite his tongue so he wouldn't say what he really thought of the house. It was dark inside and to say it was dirty and disgusting would be the biggest of understatements. The carpet that ran through the house was a dark brown and Bobby suspected that it was a different colour all together when it was first put there. Pizza boxes, empty beer bottles, cans, wrappers-you name it-littered the floor. Bobby Mercer was no clean freak but this was plain disgusting. Ignoring the mess he saw around him, he followed Julian and Angel into a kitchen that was not much cleaner. They sat around a wobbly wooden table.

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" Julian asked, drinking out of a cup that was once white but now was a sickly green colour. Bobby and Angel declined. "Okay then," Julian said, leaning back in his chair, "what can I do for you?"

"Our brother was followed by a car," Bobby said. "We wanna find the fucker that was following him."

Julian nodded and wrote something down in a small notepad. "What did the car look like?"

"Black. With tinted windows."

Julian raised his eye-brows. "That's it?"

"What the fuck do you mean 'that's it'?" Bobby exclaimed. He already was in a bad mood for having to come here. He wanted to smack this kid already. "I told you it was a fucking car that was following him."

"Well," Julian said, blinking his eyes at Bobby, "The type of the car would help."

"I don't know what type of fucking car it was!"

"Well then how do you expect me to find it?" Again, Julian blinked his eyes, looking at Bobby like he was stupid.

Angel saw that Bobby was getting angry and was about to snap on Julian so he intervened. "Hey listen, man," Angel said, getting Julian to focus his attention on him. "Just ask around and see what you can find. Okay?"

Julian nodded. "All right. I will try. I'll call you if anything."

"Fine. Let's go, Angel," Bobby said, standing up. The sooner he left the better. If he stayed, he might pound this Julian kid's face in. He didn't bother waiting for Angel.

"Thanks," Angel said, shaking Julian's hand. "Sorry about Bobby. You know how he gets."

"Yeah," Julian replied with a grin. He shook his head. "No offense but I fucking hate that guy."

Angel chuckled and thanked him again before leaving. Bobby was waiting in the car with the engine running when Angel came out.

"Next time we need to see him, you can go alone," Bobby said as Angel got into the car. He put the car in gear and drove off.

"He only hates you 'cause of what you did to his sister," Angel replied. He held back the urge to laugh when he saw Bobby's face.

"What I did to his sister?" Bobby asked incredulously. "That fucking bitch was screwing three guys behind my back! I dump her and I'm the bad guy?"

"Maybe if you had been a better boyfriend…."

"Angel, don't you fucking finish that sentence or I'll make you walk home."

The rest of the ride consisted of Bobby driving in silence and Angel trying to hold his laughter in.

…

Colorado, 1992

"I don't fucking believe this!" Bobby yelled angrily, kicking the garbage can that was near him. "What the hell happened in there, man?"

"I'm sorry," the shorter of the two said with a reproachful look. He held a dirty rag over a cut that was near his eye and ran halfway down his face. He had received it in the bar when everything started to go bad. "It was an off night for me."

"Off night?" Bobby echoed. "Really? Chester—we just lost everything!"

Chester nodded but didn't answer. It was quiet between the pair of friends for a while. Bobby was wondering for the fifth time why he didn't just stay home instead of coming to Colorado when Chester jumped beside him.

"I've got an idea!" Chester said suddenly, his eyes lighting up. "Just stay here. I'll be right back!"

Bobby started to call after him but his friend was gone before he could even form the words. He slumped against the cold brick wall and waited. He hoped this "idea" of Chester's was going to be good. He hadn't known Chester for too long but they became fast friends when Bobby met him in a bar during his first week in Colorado. He originally came to check out the hockey scene—he heard something about a team recruiting. But he had gotten there too late and was shit out of luck. He paid the motel in advance for two months already, figuring he'd make it on the hockey team. The motel people didn't care for his problems and wouldn't give him his money back. So he had met Chester one night and they became friends—hustling pool to make money. And they were really good at it; sometimes making as much as $800 a night.

But tonight things had gone wrong. Rumour was a high stakes pool game was going on and that the winnings could total out to a few thousand. Problem was you needed $1000 to begin with. Chester had heard of a bookie/drug dealer named Marco Campanetti who "loaned" people money—as long as they paid it back almost as quick as they took it. So Bobby and Chester borrowed $1000 from Marco with promises that they would pay it back after they won. But they had gotten in way over their heads and quickly found out that they weren't as good as they thought. Within the first half hour, they lost everything they had. And they promised to pay Marco back that same night.

Bobby didn't know how the hell he got himself into such a stupid situation. He could just imagine his mother's face if she knew what he was doing. It made him feel guiltier than he already felt.

"Bobby!"

Bobby snapped out of his thoughts and saw an excited Chester running towards him. He felt hope fill him for the first time that night.

"Marco has a way for us to pay off the $1000!" Chester said with a happy smile on his face. Bobby felt relief flow through him. But it didn't last long.

"What do we have to do?" he asked.

"Well you know that Marco-," Chester began. He looked back and forth; making sure no one was around. When he was satisfied no one was in earshot, he turned back to Bobby. "You know that Marco deals right?"

"Oh fuck, no," Bobby said, understanding instantly. "I'm not going to fucking do that!"

"Come on!" Chester said, jumping up and down with excitement. "It'll be cool!"

"Cool?" Bobby raised his eye-brows incredulously. "Selling drugs is not 'cool'!"

"Okay, okay," Chester replied, putting up his hands in surrender. "But Marco said if we sell his new shipment in one week, he'll clear our debt. For good! No catch; nothing!"

Bobby thought about it for a moment before sighing in defeat. What other choice did he have? If he wanted to make it out of Colorado without an angry drug dealer chasing him, he had to. Even if it was against everything he believed in.

"Fuck it. Fine. Let's do it!"

"Yes!" Chester said; a smile on his face. "It'll be fine, Bobby, you'll see!" He checked his watch and then swore. "I gotta go meet Sid! I'll see you later, Bobby!"

Bobby nodded and watched Chester go. He couldn't believe what he just agreed to do. He hated drugs; he hated the effect they had on people. He'd seen too many people die from drug overdoses and he wasn't too keen on being a part of that world. But sometimes in life, you have to do things you don't like to survive. It'll be okay, he reasoned. I'll just sell this and go home and forget about all of this.

Besides, if he just sold and did what he had to, what could go wrong?

…

A/N: So can you tell I'm the youngest of my family? lol. And yeah I have no idea why I decided to throw in a Titanic reference. Love that movie! Anyway….Thanks for reading and please review to tell me what you thought! Until next time…. -Addie