Note: Thanks for all the reviews. My work schedule is sometimes demanding, but I will try to update regularly.
The Bridges We Burn
Chapter Two: Jack and Jaime
It didn't make sense. Jack could eat anything he wanted and not gain a single pound. Not to mention he was practically a giant. And yet, out of the four of them, he was most certainly the least harmful.
"You know, it makes it really hard to eat when someone is staring at you," Jack commented. Bobby snorted as Jack shoved another powdered doughnut into his mouth.
"Yeah, seems like," He responded. Jack narrowed his eyes and swallowed, a sign that a lecture was about to begin. Bobby slumped down on the couch in defeat. How many times had they went over this in the last two hours?
"So, she just barges in without knocking, waving her hands in the air like a maniac and screaming 'Bobby Mercer, you are the fucking father'?" Jack asks disbelievingly. He had lived with Bobby for far too long to buy his exaggerations as true. Bobby shrugged, then nodded, muttering something like 'that's what I said'. Jack shook his head.
"Was she foaming at the mouth too? Carrying a 9 mm? Or maybe a switchblade? You know, one of those cool underground gadgets that spies have," Jack mocked with his mouth full. Bobby gave him a disgusted look and flipped on the television. How come no one ever believed him?
"Fine, believe what you will. But I'll have you know that for a second there, a very long second, your favorite big brother's life was endangered. I swear the bitch is part ninja or something," Bobby answer, propping his feet up on the coffee table. Bobby vaguely remembered all those times when Evelyn would yell from the kitchen for Bobby to 'please take his feet off the furniture'.
"There are two things wrong with your theory Bobby. First off, Angel wasn't here. So his life couldn't have possibly been endangered. And second off, no one can be part ninja. I mean, being a ninja is something you are or you aren't. It's like being…part mime. How can someone be part mime?" Jack said seriously, as if he had proven an important point.
"Oh I got it!" Bobby exclaimed mockingly. "Like how someone can't be part fairy! You know, they either are-"
"Fuck you Bobby! How many times do I have to tell you that I. am not. Gay!" Jack interrupted grudgingly. Bobby inwardly smirked. Yep, he had won. Like always.
"Look Jackie. We're all liberals here. It's okay," Bobby said with mock reassurance. Bobby thought he had finally diverted the conversation to something much more…Bobby-like, when Jack answered him with,
"So does he look like you?" Bobby inwardly groaned. Of all the people he could have been brothers with…
"No. Absolutely not. Actually, he looks more like Jonathan Taylor Thomas than me. Or Leonardo DiCaprio," Bobby answered quickly. Nope, the kid mostly certainly did not look like him.
"Dude, Bobby, Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Leonardo DiCaprio do not look a like," Jack retorted, obviously disgusted with Bobby's comparison. Jack got up to get more milk, missing the squinty-eyed look Bobby gave him from behind.
"And you would know this because…?" Bobby asked, then shook his head with an air of 'sudden enlightenment. "Oh yeah-"
"I am not a fairy for the last time!" Jack answered before Bobby could finish his statement. Bobby snickered at his ability to once again, get on Jack's nerves. Bobby went back to watching a rerun of The Price is Right, that he watched solely for the purpose of making fun of the players, as he listened to Jack bang around in the kitchen. How much noise could you possibly make getting milk?
Jack was on his way into the living room again, when he noticed the pieces of a broken coffee mug on the floor by the kitchen table.
"I'm assuming the broken mug is courtesy of the rabid-wild-woman that broke into our house?" Jack asked from the kitchen. Bobby grinned. Maybe now Jack would realize he was telling the truth. Well, partially anyways.
"You know what they say about assuming things Jackie," Bobby answered. He didn't receive a reply though because Jack's attention was now on the picture that still laid, untouched by the oldest Mercer, in the middle of the table. After a thirty-second interlude of silence, Bobby twisted his head around to sneak a glance at his little brother.
"This is the kid?' Jack asked emotionlessly, as if he had sensed Bobby's stare. Bobby was about to settle on simply shrugging, when he noticed his brother's rigid posture as his leaned over to pick up the picture, almost gingerly.
"Uh…yeah. That's…that's the one," Bobby stuttered, realizing that Jack was paying him no attention at all. His brother was staring at the picture intently, as if waiting for it to do a trick.
"Uh, Jack-"
"Where is he? Where did the woman go? Where are they staying?" Jack asked with sudden urgency. Bobby could only gape for a moment, noticing how she was 'the woman' now instead of the 'rabid-wild-woman'.
"Fuck if I know," Bobby finally answered, not sounding as uncaring as he wanted. Jack turned desperate eyes towards him.
"Where Bobby? She had to have said where she was staying?!" Jack demanded. Bobby stood up slowly, approaching Jack like he would a wild animal. He was utterly confused. One moment they were making jokes and now…now Jack seemed concerned. Well, concerned was most certainly the understatement of the year.
"What does it matter Jack? I mean, I already told you it's not my kid. Look at him. He doesn't look like me. And she's a whore," Bobby would have gone on but the look in Jack's eyes stopped him dead. His brother looked hurt. Offended even. But then, as quickly as the look appeared, it vanished. Jack nodded.
"Right. She's a whore and he's not yours. Why does that not surprise me coming from you?" Jack asked quietly, but bitterly. Jack grabbed his coat and made his way to the door, much like Sabrina had done that very morning.
"Where are you going?" Bobby called after him, not liking at all how guilty he felt. Why should he feel guilty? He hadn't done anything.
"To get some milk," Jack answered blankly, not bothering to look at him. "We're out."
The front door slammed, but this time there wasn't the sound of a starting engine. Jack was walking to the store. He walked a lot when he was angry.
Bobby leaned against the kitchen wall and thought about Jack's reaction to the picture. It was as if he had seen, in that photograph, the face of someone he cared about. Loved even. Any other time Bobby would have said some line about the kid being too young for Jack, or how he thought Jack was into the blondes. But that seemed hardly appropriate now.
Bobby glanced at the table where Jack had set the picture back down gently.
"Jaime huh? How do you know my little brother, Jaime?" Bobby muttered towards the silent photograph. Oddly, Bobby didn't even feel foolish for talking to himself. Instead he reached into his pocket for the crumbled piece of paper that Sabrina had given him that morning. Unfolding it, Bobby reached for the phone.
Sabrina Wood
Parkview Hotel Room 109
Cell 459-357-8775
Quickly, before he could change his mind, Bobby dialed the number.
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