Jack had finally caved and used some of his money to get a hotel room. He'd hated doing it; it made him feel so weak and was he really the same savage chief from the island all those years ago? Jack had also found his way back to his bank and withdrew everything in his savings. There had been questions, sure, but with the right paperwork – he'd spent a night learning how to exactly replicate his father's signature – he'd been able to get everything.

Now he had money, a gun, food, and all he needed was a plan.

He wanted to go back to Bill and Ralph and beg for forgiveness is that what you want to do Jacky just go back and BEG to be let back in just get down on your KNEES and BEG for them to believe you that YOU DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH WHAT ROGER DID and YOU DON'T EVEN FUCKING KNOW WHERE ROGER IS and that sort? They'll never believe you. Not in a million years.

Jack silenced the voice in his head and took a sip of his wine. He'd also bought a bottle of wine and a fancy wineglass – a waste of money, maybe, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. And right now it certainly seemed like a good idea.

He'd bought a newspaper on the way up to his hotel room and was flipping through it now. He needed to follow Roger's story because he needed to join him know when to get the hell out of there. There were a few pages of nothing and then a large headline stating that a twin (a twin oh god) and a teenaged girl had gone missing. He didn't want to read it but knew that he should. He skimmed it, feeling sicker with each word. Eventually he had to put the newspaper down and very calmly make his way to the bathroom to throw up.

What to do next?

There was a telephone in the lobby. He'd kept tabs on Robert; in fact, Robert had come over to his house every once in a while when he was younger. Right after he'd come back from the island, in fact. He hadn't contacted Robert in a few years but he still knew his phone number. He'd memorized it.

He felt awkward the entire way down to the lobby. It felt like everyone's looking at you Jacky they're silently judging you and thinking that you don't have any idea what you're doing "Excuse me, may I use the phone?" your hands are shaking Jacky that's suspicious who are you calling that's what they're all wondering "Is Robert there?" he moved he moved these people have no idea who you're talking about-

But, no, the voice – Robert's mother? – was calling for him now. Screaming his name really. She had to, over the racket he could even hear over the phone. Eventually Robert got to the phone, breathless. "Yeah?" he asked.

"It's Jack."

"Who?"

"Merridew," Jack said. Robert was quiet. "Listen, I need you. Just… come to my hotel, and I'll tell you everything you need to know."

Robert didn't speak for a few more minutes, then let out a long sigh. "Alright," he said. "But just because I owe you. And there better be beer. Where is it?"

Jack gave him directions and then headed out to buy Robert some beer. It was cold – what was to be expected for December 22nd – but nothing that wasn't manageable. He was glad that he'd stuck some money in his pocket before leaving his hotel room must be fate huh Jacky?

Ten minutes later he was back in his room, finishing off his glass of wine and warming up from his trek outside. Robert's beers sat on the desk, on top of the newspaper. Jack waited, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was too bad he'd gotten just the single bed. If he had thought of Robert sooner he would've gotten a room with two beds. But it was too late for that now. Jack was sure that Robert would sleep at his feet if he had to because Robert has never failed you he is the ultimate subordinate no, not subordinate friend? Is that what you think? Robert is a thug he needs you because you tell him what to do and that's it.

There was a knock at the door and Jack had to hold himself back from jumping up and answering it right away. If it was Robert – and it probably was – he couldn't let himself act too eager. Be someone he can respect, Jack, because if he doesn't respect you he won't follow your orders.

He opened the door and, sure enough, Robert was on the other side. Sixteen years old, a little on the short side, but broad-shouldered and muscled, Robert was perfect for a bodyguard/accomplice. He was tanned and blond, with muddy hazel eyes and an almost permanent smirk. "This better be good," was all he said, looking into the room.

"This is war," Jack said. "Only instead of two sides this time, there are three. Roger and Maurice. Bill and Ralph. And us."

"Hold up – Bill and Ralph? How the hell did that happen?" Robert asked, reaching for a beer. "I always liked Bill. I mean, I'm not surprised that Roger went out on his own and that Maurice followed him, but I expected Bill to be on your side."

"I expected that, too," Jack said. "But it's not happening."

"So, what's the plan, chief?" Robert asked. "Are we going to fuck shit up or what?"

Jack grinned a little. He'd forgotten how much he liked having Robert around. Even back on the island he'd liked Robert the best – Roger was efficient, sure, but he was a little creepy and always seemed to have his own agenda and Bill was… well, a little dense, and Bill – and the fact that Robert was completely ready to finish what they had started on the island made it all the better.

"Yeah," Jack said. "We are going to fuck shit up."

it's a little short but robert was supposed to be some guy that roger killed he's not making this easy for me either the next chapter should be longer i think