Chapter Five
Lock was in her room, staring at the cement walls and trying to think of what colors she wanted to paint them. Evelyn had called a bit ago and had Bobby tell Lock to think of paint colors for tomorrow, they were going shopping.
Wonder if they'll have silver. . .black, blood-red, purple. . .those they should have. . .she thought as she looked her room over.
Lock looked through her bag for her sketch pad, figuring she could maybe pick some sketches to use on her walls. Apparently, she hadn't packed it, just like so much other stuff.
Bobby had meant to go find a pick up hockey game, but Evelyn had called, so he hung around for a bit. Jack had taken a nap, he claimed to "not feel well", and was just getting up as she had gone downstairs. Angel hadn't moved from the recliner at all, except to use the bathroom and to eat.
I hate to admit this shit, but I think if I stay here much longer. . .these guys will start to grow on me--hell, I've already started to get used to Bobby, with him protectin' me. . .nobody's ever done that before. . .she thought.
She ran a hand through her hair as she sorted things out. She didn't want to get close to these people, it seemed like every single time she let someone in, they ended up hurting her.
Bobby could do the worst damage. . .she thought, laying back on her bed. He's gotta hot temper and a short ass fuse, but the way he acts with Jackie. . .those two are close, Bobby's his guardian. . . .that don't mean he won't flip out on me though. . .
She sighed and laced her fingers behind her head, the silence around her was deafening and maddening, she wished she had a radio and some CDs. Music was her life, it kept her grounded in sanity, and more often than not, it explained how she felt. Atreyu was her top favorite band, closely followed by AFI and My Chemical Romance, but she listened to just about any and everything. Most of the stuff she played at the club was Atreyu, with a sprinkle of her own stuff tossed into the mix. Her mind suddenly turned to Jack Mercer, the youngest screw-up, and the wanna be rock star.
I wonder what music he's into. . . she smirked, closing her eyes. He's got that punk rock look goin' for him, sorta hot, well cute, not really hot. . .really friggin' cute. . .STOP IT!
She shook her head, trying to push the boy from her mind. She had never dated anyone, she couldn't let people that close, but she did have a fair amount of 'crushes' in her life. She growled at herself when the image of the older teen wouldn't leave willingly, his hazel eyes and sandy hair residing in her minds eye.
Dammit, enough Lock! she scolded. You will not get close to these people, you'll stick it out a few weeks, then just bail-get the heck out!
She sat up, rolling her sore shoulders, and rubbed the back of her neck. Being so tense and on edge on the time wrecked havoc on her muscles, and she sighed as she managed to loosen up some of the knots. She heard someone coming down the stairs and she quickly tried to look busy, no one had bothered coming down here so far.
"Lock?" Bobby's muffled voice floated through the door as he knocked lightly. "Can I uhhh. . .come in?"
What in the world does he want from me now? she thought, feeling her body tense up again.
"Sure, I guess," she said, grabbing her knife from the stand and putting it under her leg.
Take no chances, Lock. Be on guard, these guys aren't your friends. . .
"Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to join us in a pick up game? We're all goin'. . .You skate?" he asked, opening the door and speaking from there.
"Yeah, I skate. . .but I'll pass on the game," she muttered.
"A'ight, I figured you might not wanna. . . .," he smiled. "The offer still stands if you change your mind, I'll leave a note telling where we are. . . And Jackie left you somethin' upstairs, he says if you like it you can go ahead and keep it," he said, turning and going back upstairs.
Jack left me somethin'? she wondered, listening as the boys stomped outside.
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She stood in the kitchen, eyeing the black, leather jacket that was draped over one of the chairs with suspicion. A note was pinned to the sleeve and she carefully removed it, putting the open safety-pin in her mouth and playing with it while she read the note.
Lock, Bobby tells me you don't have a coat or even a hoodie. . .So I figured this old leather coat of mine might fit ya, if you like it go right ahead and keep it. . . Think of it as a "house warming" gift. . .Welcome home, Stray.
Jackie
She stuffed the note in her pocket and picked the coat up by its shoulders, looking it over. The leather was worn, broken in, but still heavy enough to be warm. A smell drifted up from the coat, pleasant and calming. When Lock sniffed the coat, she realized it was the teen's cologne and smiled a little.
She shrugged the coat on, losing herself in the new scent that somehow made her feel like everything would be all right. The coat was a good fit, a little big on her, but that's how she liked it. She went into the bathroom to check it out, turning and looking at herself in the mirror, with a big smile on her face. She looked damn good in the coat, she'd definitely be keeping it.
She was still smirking as she picked up the phone and dialed Ransom. She leaned on the wall, one hand stuck in the pocket of her "new" coat, and counted the rings on the other line.
"C'mon, Ransom! Pick up the damn phone!" she said, growing annoyed. "I know you're home. . ."
"Hi, to you too, Lock," Ransom's voice said sarcastically. "What's the deal? You're not in trouble again already, are you?"
"No, Ransom, I'm not in trouble," she snickered. "I was wonderin' if you could bring me some of my shit. . ."
"Wait, I thought you weren't stickin' around there for too long, why do you need your stuff?" concern rang in the girl's sweet voice.
"I'm only stayin' here for a month, tops. Just long enough for Smiths to sorta forget about me, ya know?" she toyed absently with the zipper on the coat.
"Right, right. . .What ya need?" Ransom asked.
"Clothes for one, my damn radio and some CDs for another, lack of music is drivin' me fucking nuts. . ."
"What 'bout your coat?"
"Nah, I found one in the basement here," Lock lied.
"I'll grab your cell too. . .What CDs you want?"
"Atreyu, the new one. . .AFI. . .My Chem. . .Shit you know what I like, Ransom! Just bring a damn handful. . ."
"All right, hun. I'll be there shortly. . .How long do we have 'fore everyone's back?" the girl knew Lock wouldn't be calling unless she was alone.
"I really don't know. . .Just bring my stuff, please?"
"Right, see ya."
"See ya," she mumbled, hanging the phone up.
Not fifteen minutes later, Lock heard the familiar roar of Ransom's truck and she bolted outside. Her friend was just starting the unload the stuff she brought when she hear Lock coming.
"Hey, bitch!" she cried, wrapping her arms around Lock's neck.
"Hey, whore!" Lock giggled, hugging just as hard. "Purple hair, huh?"
"Hey, I look damn hot! Thank you very much," Ransom smiled, shoving her.
Lock shook her head and went to get her stuff, feeling her best friend stare at her. She grabbed a back pack, slinging it over her shoulder.
"So, what are they like? Are they cute? What!? Tell me all the details!" her friend smiled.
"Give it up, Ransom. I'm not even getting close to people here. . ." she muttered.
"Lock, cute jacket!" she merely jumped from random subject to random subject. "Damn! It almost makes you sexy!"
"Blow me!" she snickered. "What all did you bring?"
"Clothes, enough for a couple of weeks," Ransom listed off on her fingers. "CDs, radio, cell phone, head phones, and my left over purple hair dye. Oh and a razor!"
"You brought me your left over hair dye?" she arched an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I figured you'd put a streak or two in. . .It'd look good with the new coat. . ."
"All right," Lock smiled, grabbing the rest of her stuff. "Can you grab the radio and bring it in? Then get the hell outta here. . ."
"Sure thing, Locket."
"Don't fuckin' call me that. . ." she growled, leading the way inside.
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Bobby noticed several things as soon as the three of them stepped inside. The first was that Jackie's old coat was gone, Lock had apparently liked it. The next was that Ma was sitting in the kitchen, a very pleased smile on her face, and then he heard the noise coming from the basement.
"What in the hell is that noise?" he growled, taking off his coat.
"Music, dumb ass," Jack snickered, pushing past him.
"Language, you two," Ma reminded. "I believe Lock called her friend and had some of her things brought over."
"Oh," Bobby mumbled, pulling a chair up beside his mother. "How can you stand that racket?"
"It's no different than when Jackie's band used to rehearse in the garage," she grinned. "It lets me know she's maybe adjusting to things."
"She's got good taste," Jack said, sitting down and munching an apple. "Atreyu, I believe."
"Crap is more like it," Bobby growled. "How can she listen to it that damn loud? Sorry Ma."
"Bobby. . .music is her escape, hockey is yours. . ." Ma laughed. "Oh! Shhh! Listen!"
Bobby shut his mouth and opened his ears. At first there was nothing, then he heard someone yell "GO!" and a screaming guitar solo exploded from downstairs. He looked to Jack, who's eyes were closed in bliss and fingers were tapping to the beat, then to his mother, completely stunned. He went to speak, but Evelyn rose her hand to silence him. What he heard next made his body tingle. The girl's voice floated above the music as she sang along.
"A rush of blood to my head
Leaves me winded and wanting to
Feel the weakness in my body.
Beaten and crushed, like my soul,
I walked the streets flirting death,
But it never kissed back! I'm
So lucky, so cursed, so FUCKED UP!
But that's the way it goes,
It's in the ebb and the flow.
I wish that I could give you my time-
Give you my time. . .
Seems like doomsday has come early
This year, the last angel has gone. . .
I can't remember the last time I cried!
The last angel has GONE HOME!"
Lock stopped singing here and let the song finish itself, then stayed silent as the song switched. He sat in stunned quiet as he tried to absorb what he had just heard, Jack's jaw had dropped to the floor, and his hazel eyes glowed with wonder.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ!" Bobby gasped. "Was that her? Ma, was that really Lock singin'?"
"Yes, Bobby Mercer," she laughed loudly. "That was Lock singing and I believe the guitar solo we heard was her as well. . ."
"Wow!" Jack breathed, still in shock. "She's amazing!"
"Is that all you've been doin', Ma? Sittin' up here listenin' to her?" Angel spoke up from the doorway.
"Since I got home," Evelyn smiled. "Angel, come sit down. I want to tell you boys about that girl in our basement. But you don't dare bring anything up to her, understand?"
"Yes, Ma," they all muttered together.
Angel sat down and Evelyn began.
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"Lock's parents died when she was young, just five-years-old she was, in a car accident. With no other family, she became a ward of the state, much like all my boys," she spoke slowly. "And of course, she found all the worst places. Unbelievable amounts of physical abuse, she's got a scar on her shoulder from a straight razor that one man used on her. . .She was seven."
"Fuck," Bobby gasped, shaking his head. "Shit! Sorry, Ma. . ."
Evelyn Mercer shook her head, she let it slide this time. "She's managed to somehow avoid being raped," Jackie flinched at the last word, "but that doesn't mean she wasn't. . .sexually abused."
"Jesus," Bobby breathed. "That's why she tweaked out when I grabbed her wrist. . .or if she's alone with one of us. . .Fuck, Stray. . .I never knew. . ."
Jack had fallen into a sullen silence, staring at his shaking hands, and Ma reached over and held the young boys hands. Jack glanced up and nodded, he was all right, but Bobby could see the phantoms haunting him.
"She learned how to fight, but not well enough at first. She's suffered more broken bones than I care to think about, but she got better as she got older. At eleven, she hospitalized a seventeen-year-old who tried 'stuff' with her, then vanished into thin air," she paused, wiping a tear from her face. "She had taken to the streets, still going to school through the church in her part of town, and that's where she developed her voice, music and drawing talents."
"She went through hell and back," Angel mumbled. "But still went to school? That's impressive. . ."
"Yes, it is, Angel. But that's not the end of her story. She's been in and out of jail since age thirteen, for fighting and pick pocketing, and has grown quite close to a few officers downtown. She has her connections, which is most likely the only reason she's here and not in a psych ward or prison cell somewhere, she knows all the clean cops," Ma whispered. "But they're running out of ways to save her, and have been for a while. . .At fifteen, she was off the streets, had a job playing in a club, and met Ransom-her only close friend. She still works at the club. . .well, you understand. . ."
"Yeah, Ma, we get it. . .Sorry to keep interrupting you," Bobby muttered.
"Fine, Bobby. It's fine. Anyway, like I was saying, at fifteen she was institutionalized. . .She nearly killed a man that Ransom had been dating at the time. The guy abused her friend and when Lock found out, all hell broke loose," she sighed. "Lock suffered minimal damage: three cracked ribs, a cut on her hand, busted lip, black eye. . .but the guy. . ." she shuddered and Bobby touched her arm. "She fought dirty, using what she had picked up from the streets and her life. . .She used a pool cue on the guy and smashed his face with a pool ball. . .He suffered a broken jaw, arm, seven ribs, hairline fracture to the skull, and she used the knife he cut her with. . .Sticking it between his ribs and puncturing his lung. . .He almost bled to death. . . .When the cops asked her what happened, she only said one thing. . ."
"Jesus Christ," Bobby shivered as he pictured Stray going to town on some guy, the girl was a survivor. He admired that, but pitied her at the same time. . .she had it worse than even Jackie. .
"What did she say?" Jack whispered.
"She only asked if he was 'dead yet'. She didn't show any remorse for what she had done, but did seem enraged that she hadn't killed the man. She was thrown into a psych ward for a year, I don't know what the poor thing went through in there. . ."
"Ma, please tell me her story gets better," Bobby begged, he couldn't stand the thought of what the girl had lived through.
"It does, Bobby," she smiled knowingly at him. "She was released from the ward, the doctors and shrinks couldn't diagnose her, she flipped the sessions around on them- the docs ended up being the patients," she paused, snickering. "She's a smart girl. Anyway, she was released and went back to live with Ransom and played at the club for money. She had changed a little bit, using music as her release, not fighting randomly and without purpose, she was cleaning up and flying straight, but heaven help the poor soul who came into 'her club' and messed with anyone in there," she smiled. "The little kids from her block have properly dubbed her 'The Punisher' and the 'The Protector'. . .
"The only reason she's here is because she had a slip-up. . .One of Ransom's exes came to the club and roughed her up, Lock didn't tolerate that very well. . .And now, here she is. . .She's fallen into the mindset of 'kill or be killed', she can't help what she does or how she acts. . ."
"Animal instinct. . ." Jack breathed.
"What, Jackie?" Bobby whispered.
"She's like an animal. . .going on instinct to survive. . ."
"That's right, Jackie," Evelyn moved and hugged him. "Now, you boys give her space, let her adjust on her own. She may have to be here a while. Bobby, I want to speak to you." she shooed the others out of the dining room.
"Yeah, Ma?"
"I know you take it upon yourself to protect Jackie," she said with love-filled eyes. "Can I ask you to do your best with Lock as well?"
"Ma," he smiled. "You should know by now: I don't need to be asked, I have already signed up for the role as Protector in this house."
"Oh, Bobby!" she laughed, hugging him. "You're such a good man."
"I know, Ma," he kissed her cheek. "You keep tellin' me."
"That's because I know it's true," she chuckled. "Now, out of my kitchen so I can make dinner."
Shoe:Well, now we know why Lock is all tweaky around the guys, and Bobby is actually a decent man, remember he is stuck home to avoid prison. . .Tell me what you think! By the way, the song Lock sang a bit of was "Doomsday" by Atreyu. . .I'm sure i'll be using more lyrics from this band (my one love) and others. . .I'll be sure to tell you what bands and songs i use...and of course when i use my own. . .Comment!