Note: I don't own Four Brothers or Nowhere Road by Steve Earle

Chapter 25

I been down this road just searching' for the end
It don't go nowhere, it just brings you back again

Growing up in Detroit, you learned two things pretty quick: You don't have to go looking for trouble because trouble sure as hell was gonna find you whether you wanted it to or not; and no matter what, anytime you're part of a pickup hockey game, you wanted to be on the side Bobby Mercer was playing on. On average, that would help cut your emergency room bill in half unless things went downhill pretty fast and the other side got in some lucky hits.

The Green brothers knew these things but tended to ignore them. The eldest Green, Terrence, was a cop, a fact that cracked Bobby up on a regular basis. He'd known Green for years, and they'd always been friends – not the kind of friend Bobby ran with when he was doing stuff he shouldn't be doing – but the kind of friend he'd shoot the shit with on weekends and grab a beer with at Johnny G's.

Jerry liked Terrence, liked the fact that someone from their neighborhood chose the high road for a change. He liked to think he could be something like a cop one day. If not a cop, then at least someone who could make some changes around there, clean up the streets a bit. Make his mom proud.

Green's younger brother, Marcus, was in Jerry's class. They were both graduating that year and Marcus was headed to college on a full scholarship and Terrence bragged about it constantly. His little brother was smart and was going to make something of himself. It was nice to beat the odds every once in a while.

Jerry already had a job working construction on the weekends and his boss had decided to take him under his wing, seeing potential there that Jerry had trouble seeing himself. His mom told him time and time again that he was going places, but that meeting last week with his boss was the first time he could see a path for himself.

So the Green brothers didn't like playing by the rules, and at that moment their stubbornness wasn't exactly working in their favor. Bobby was pummeling them out on the ice. It was brutal. Jerry couldn't help but wince every time Marcus took an elbow to his side or a stick to his shin. Bobby played dirty. Everyone knew that.

Jerry glided by, taking up the puck and heading for the goal. Terrence came into view out of the corner of his eye. Blood was running down his face from a cut above his eyebrow and he was grinning like mad. Jerry decided to add a new rule to the previous two rules you learned while growing up in Detroit: Bobby Mercer's little brothers would go through life with giant targets painted on their backs and suffer the payback for any crap Bobby pulled.

He couldn't get out of the way fast enough and the impact was jarring, throwing both guys off their feet and onto the ice, hard. He heard Bobby yell something and then all hell broke loose.

The familiar flash of blue and red light, accompanied by a quick chirp of a siren, broke things up pretty quick. Jerry had no idea whose side won, just that he had to hightail it back home or risk having to call his mom from the police station to come and pick him up. The cops gave them three minutes to grab their stuff and scram - Jerry was out of there with twenty seconds to spare.

He was out of breath with a stitch in his side when he finally slowed to a stop. Angel was right behind him and the fourteen-year-old was laughing. "Jerry, man, I didn't know you could run so fast." He dropped a pair of skates on the ground at Jerry's feet. "Left these behind. Ma woulda been pissed if she had to buy you a new pair."

Holding onto his ribs, Jerry slumped onto the steps of his house, deciding catching his breath was more important than answering his kid brother.

Bobby sauntered up a few minutes later. Jerry was surprised to see him, certain he was going to get grabbed by the cops. "Jeez, you two ran like a couple of little girls." He shook his head. "Little embarrassing, to tell the truth. You two need to toughen up a bit, grow some balls. I'll have a talk with Ma, make sure she isn't turning you soft since I ain't around to act as a positive influence on your upbringing."

"Parenting tips from Bobby Mercer? Now I've seen everything," a familiar voice said. Jerry looked up, watching as Terrence and Marcus strolled up the sidewalk. Both were definitely in worse shape than the Mercers and Jerry fought back a grin.

"Marcus," Bobby said with a nod. "Terry," he said pointedly, making sure to call Green by the nickname he hated. It didn't go unnoticed. Green's fist clenched and the muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. But Green was the good cop, the calm one who tricked you into liking him and trusting him while his partner waited to swoop in and scare the shit out of you. He was a pro at keeping his anger in check – shit he probably used all those years hanging out with Bobby on his resume. "Can control temper in extreme situations." Things didn't get much more extreme than Bobby Mercer running his mouth.

"Terry, you can confess – you called in your buddies in blue to save you and your brother the humiliating ass whooping we both know you were about to experience," Bobby said with a grin that Green matched.

"Right, Bobby. You figured me out. Last I checked, we'd just scored, again, on your pathetic excuse for a goalie."

"Hey!" Angel said, taking a step forward, his eyes narrowing.

"I just call 'em like I see 'em, kid," Green said with a shrug.

Bobby tilted his head at his youngest brother. "You were pretty pathetic tonight. We should tell Ma to adopt a girl so we can replace your sorry ass."

Jerry laughed at Angel's frustrated glare. "He does have a point."

"Thanks a lot, Jer," he mumbled as he crossed his arms and slumped onto steps leading up to the porch.

"Let's call it a draw," Green said diplomatically, clasping his hand on the eldest Mercer's shoulder. "Wanna grab a beer?"

"Cool," Marcus chimed in. "Johnny G's?" Johnny wasn't supposed to allow under-aged kids in, but he made exceptions every once in a while. Of course, Johnny made exceptions, but Super Cop didn't.

"No little kids allowed." Green gave his brother a "what the hell" look and shook his head.

"But …"

"Hangout here for a couple of hours, little brother. You don't need to tag along every where I go."

Marcus slumped next to Angel on the steps and let out a sigh, watching as his brother and Bobby disappeared down the street.

XxXxXxXxXx

"Well, Jeremiah, are you going to let me in?"

Jerry blinked slowly, feeling a bit disoriented. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Oh, right. Sorry. Just wasn't expecting …"

"A familiar face?"

"Yeah, I guess that's it. I never realized how much you look like him."

The man at the door nodded thoughtfully. "I know. Same here – it's weird to see my brother staring back at me from the mirror. I guess I never really noticed the resemblance until he was gone."

"The mind can be funny sometimes."

"Tell me about it." He motioned toward the door again. "Let me in, Jerry. What I have to say really shouldn't been said out in the open like this."

Angel did a double take as their guest stepped into the family room. "What the …" he started, sitting up straighter on the couch, dropping the phone onto his lap. Sofi angrily elbowed him in the side, but he ignored her. Picking up the phone, he mumbled, "Call you back," and then hung up on the caterer who was chattering a mile a minute on the other end.

Jerry stepped into the room. "Angel, you remember Marcus, Terrence Green's little brother."

Angel jumped up and held out his hand. "Of course, man. Long time."

Marcus smiled as they shook hands. "Eight, nine years at least. Miss those hockey games." He groaned and rolled his shoulders. "Don't miss those hockey fights, though."

"Bobby," Angel simply stated and Marcus laughed.

"Bobby Mercer. The Michigan Mauler."

"A legend in his own mind," Angel finished for him. Sofi snorted a laugh and winced in pain, grabbing her bruised jaw.

Jerry sat down on the couch, his hands clasped in his lap as he balanced on the edge of his seat, anxious to find out why Marcus was paying them a visit. "Sorry about your brother. Wished we'd figured out Fowler was crooked before it was too late."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty. I think my brother knew his partner wasn't exactly on the straight and narrow, but he didn't realize just how corrupt he was. Lieutenant Fowler was more gangster than cop and my brother paid the price for it."

"And our mother." Angel said quietly.

"And your mother," Marcus repeated, his expression shuttered.

"Not to be rude," Angel said, "but why are you here?"

"I understand that the problem you all ran into a few months ago may not be as taken care of as you originally thought?"

Jerry felt his chest tighten. He wasn't sure he liked where this conversation was going. "Maybe," he said, not even sure he should reveal that much. He was tired of getting burned by people he trusted.

"Well, I think we might have the same problem," Marcus said cryptically.

Jerry cocked his head. "Just what are you gettin' at?"

Marcus reached for his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and Angel, Jerry and Sofi all leaned in to get a better look.

It was an ID and Jerry only needed to glance at it once to see just what it was an ID for, though he'd only ever seen one on TV.

FBI.

"I think we can be of some use to each other," Marcus said, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

Jerry stood there, the last few months playing through his mind like a greatest hits clip show of the World's Least Funny Home Videos. Bad luck piled on top of bad luck. He was sure he should allow himself even an ounce of hope, but he couldn't help it. He glanced at Angel who shrugged and then he looked back at Marcus and said, "I think you may be right."

XxXxXxXxXx

Bobby opened the door a crack and peered outside. Jack laughed behind him. "Are you expecting a sneak attack or something?"

Bobby glanced over his shoulder, an annoyed look on his face. "Are you fucking kidding me or did you happen to forget what happened back in November?" He nodded at Jack's knee and the laughter came to an abrupt halt.

"Not funny, man," Jack said under his breath.

"Didn't mean for it to be. You gotta start payin' attention to what's goin' on around you. You're not gonna get lucky twice."

"Didn't get lucky once," Jack mumbled as he hiked his duffle bag over his shoulder.

Bobby pushed the door open and took a step back. "Coast is clear. After you, sweetheart."

Jack dumped their bags and his guitar into the trunk and was about to slam it close when he heard his brother let out a shout. Limping around the car to see what was going on, his brother was standing at the hotel room door, about to lock it, but someone had startled him – Jolene to be exact. She was standing there, giant suitcase in tow, clueless grin on her pretty face. Jack knew that scowl that turned his brother's face bright red wasn't a good sign and that Bobby was deciding whether or not he should draw his gun. Jolene was seconds from getting the brunt of Bobby's anger and that was if she was lucky. He didn't think Bobby would shoot her, but the way things had been going, Jack wasn't about to place bets on his hunch.

Jack cleared his throat, hoping to diffuse the situation. "Thought you said we should be paying attention to what's going on around us."

"Fuck you," Bobby bit out, not taking his eyes off their new friend. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want to come," Jolene said, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder and smiling that smile that worked so well on Jack last night. Bobby, apparently, wasn't as easily swayed and his scowl stayed stubbornly in place.

"What?" he practically barked.

"To California. Jack said that's where y'all were headed and that's where I want to be, so I figured I'd tag along." At the mention of his name, Jack took a step back, figuring that if he had to make a run for it, he could duck behind the open trunk. It would be a good shield for when the bullets started flying.

"Oh, that's what Jackiepoo told you? Well, you figured wrong."

"I got money; I'll pay my way."

"Then pay your way on a fucking bus. We ain't Amtrak here, doll."

"Jack said …" she started and Bobby snorted a laugh.

"I don't give a shit what Jack said. This ain't a committee, it's a dictatorship and I say you're staying put."

Jolene scuffed her boot across the ground and looked down and Jack felt the hair on the back of his neck standup. He hoped like hell she wasn't about to cry. She sniffed a little and he fought the urge to bolt.

Bobby laughed. "So you're going to California to become an actress, is that the plan?"

She nodded, her hair hanging over her shoulders, obscuring her face. "Yeah, how did ya know?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling.

"Lucky guess," Bobby said dryly and she looked up, eyes blazing, not a tear in sight.

She took a step toward Bobby, determined and fiery. "Look. Let me lay it out straight for you. I want to go. I don't take up much space. I'll keep my mouth shut." Bobby laughed again, interrupting her. She took a breath before continuing. "And I think Jack and me might have something special. Don't you think so, sweetie?" she called out to him and Jack furrowed his brow. Sure. Special. If he could remember more than half of it.

"Um …" he started but his brother saved him from trying to force his hungover brain to string two words together.

"Sorry, babe, you can't come. There ain't no room for your shit – trunk's full of snack cakes. Blame the kid."

She huffed and crossed her arms and Jack sighed, shutting the trunk and bracing his hands against it. He really needed a cigarette and the rest of that bottle of whiskey. It was going to be a long day. "Bobby …"

"Don't fucking say it."

"Just let her come."

XxXxXxXxXx

Luther sighed as his partner's phone started to ring. He was quickly learning to hate that sound. His boss, Roy Sweet, was a persistent son of a bitch and if they were one minute late in reporting in, he was right there, riding their asses and demanding an update. Problem was, there was nothing to update. They hadn't found the guy who was watching the strip club, though Luther was positive finding him wasn't going to help. Last he checked, corpses didn't do much talking.

"Yes, sir," his partner, Mike, said in the clipped tone he used whenever talking to Sweet. "No, sir. Sorry, sir. I know, sir." Luther sighed again. The conversation was going just as well as all the previous conversations had gone. Sweet wasn't going to be happy. Not much scared Luther, but the idea of Sweet coming down on him for screwing up this job made his palms sweat and his heart race. If half of what they'd heard about this dude was true, then they were in deep shit if they didn't produce that damn kid and his brother.

"You found out what?" Mike asked, his beady little eyes narrowing into slits.

Luther sat up a little straighter, his hand tightening on the wheel as he drove. This was different. The conversation usually wound up with Sweet barking on the other end and his partner hanging up, telling him the new and inventive ways they were going to be castrated when they got back to Detroit.

"Thank you, sir," Mike said before closing the phone. He looked at Luther. "They filled a prescription in Nebraska."

"So they are heading west," Luther observed, glancing out the window at the brown and green landscape they'd been stuck in ever since leaving Bobby Mercer's apartment.

"Looks that way."

"So our hunch was right."

Mike nodded and motioned behind him. "Told you that bitch would come in handy."

Luther glanced into the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting the heated gaze of the woman tied up in the backseat. She was pissed. Nothing new there, she was always pissed.

Mike turned in his seat and laughed that creepy laugh that got under Luther's skin. "Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll find your boyfriend soon enough."

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A/N - I am so sorry this took so long to write - I got sidetracked with my other story. Thank you to everyone who is still reading and thanks for all the reviews. I promise not to take so long with chapter 26.