Chapter Nine
Jack felt horrible for leaving Lock, but he also knew his mother would never hurt the girl. He lay on his bed, arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. He was dressed for bed, only pajama pants, he hated wearing a shirt to bed- always had.
Lock, I wish you would at least come upstairs to say good night. . .he thought, absently going over his tattoos with one hand.
The teen had stayed in her room after Evelyn had spoken with her, she didn't even come up to clean the fresh paint off of her. Jack had asked his mother what she had said, merely out of worry. Of course, Ma had only told the girl that she loved the room and was 'happy to see her adjusting'.
Jack sighed and sat up. There was no way he could get to sleep, he was too keyed up. He sort of wanted to go check on Lock, but didn't want to seem so obsessed with the girl. He felt he had already pushed it by kissing her behind the ear and he didn't want to scare her away. His cell rang and he snatched it off his nightstand before it woke someone up, answering without checking the I.D.
"Hello?"
"Jack-o?" Kett asked.
"What the fuck do you want, Kett?" he snapped. "It's done between us!"
"Babe, please listen to what I have to say," he pleaded.
Jack felt his anger for the man lessen, he almost felt sorry for him, even though he thought he heard a slight slut in Kett's voice.
He's been drinking, Jack, his mind whispered. You know how he can get when he's been drinking. . .
"Jack-o? You there?"
"Yeah," he sighed, giving in. "I'm here. What do you wanna say?"
"I love you so much, Jack," Kett said softly. "I never meant to hurt you or Lock. . .I don't know what came over me, baby. "I'm sorry."
Don't give in, Jack! Remember what you told Lock, you'd never go back. . .
"I've heard this before, Kett," he mumbled. "Your words literally mean nothing to me. All you do is lie and fuck me over."
"Jack-o," Kett whispered, voice full of emotion.
"No, Kett," he grumbled. "You've been drinking, I can tell-."
"Do you know why?" Kett asked harshly. "Do you know why I've been drinking?!"
Jack felt tears roll down his face, burning like acid, and he quickly wiped them away. He ached in his heart, hearing the pain in Kett, and felt his wall tumble down.
"Why, Kett?" he whispered.
"Because it hurts, Jack."
"What hurts, Kett?"
"My heart, my soul, every fiber of my existence! I miss you, Jack-o! I want to see you," he begged.
"No, Kett. . ." he was caving.
"Please, Jack. . .I just want to see you one last time, kiss you once more. . .Jack, do this for me and you'll never have to see or hear from me again."
It's only one more time, he thought. What can it hurt? See him, maybe give him a quick kiss, and then be done. . .
"Jack?"
"Kett," he sighed, "where are you?"
"Outside a club. . .oh shit. . .what's the name?" he slurred.
"What part of town are you in?" Jack whispered.
"Oh, here! HA! The club's called 'The Velvet Noose'. . .about twenty- no thirty- minutes from your house--if you're walking. . ."
"Could you pick me up at the end of the street?" Jack asked, quietly getting dressed.
"Sure thing, sweet stuff! I'll be there shortly. . ."
"Yeah, see ya."
Jack shoved his cell into his jeans, his heart pounding nervously in his chest, and pulled on his leather jacket.
Am I doing the right thing? Or am I just signing myself up for more trouble than he's worth?
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Jack could feel Kett staring at him as he got into the car. He sat in the passenger seat and could smell the booze coming from his ex.
"Kett?" he muttered.
"Yeah, baby?" Kett's hand was on his neck, playing with his hair and ears.
"How drunk are you?" he shivered as the fingers grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of his neck.
"Let's go back to my place, Jack-o," Kett purred, kissing his neck. "Come on, for old times sake. . ."
"Kett," he whined, "you're drunk, stop it."
To his utter surprise, the man backed off, sitting and staring out the windshield. Kett had never been one to stop when Jack asked, why the sudden change?
"Jack," Kett murmured, "I love you. I want one last chance. . .one last shot. . .I'll make it work, sweetie, really I will!"
"You're drunk, Kett! You don't even-."
"I'll stop drinking!" Kett reached over and grabbed his hands. "Right this second! Please, Jack! I can't live without you! Please!"
Jack looked into the green eyes, searching hard for a sign of something- be it truth or lies. Kett's eyes were full of sincere emotion and jack felt every last bit of his defenses fall down. He let go of Kett's hands, grabbing the man's face, and pulled him close. Kett moaned as Jack's tongue begged to be let in, letting Jack explore his mouth, and Kett's hands rubbed his thighs, moving higher.
"Kett," he panted, pulling back, "we can't. Not here!"
"Then where, Jackie?" Kett groaned, lust clouding his emerald eyes.
"Where else?" Jack slid a hand to the belt, his whole body burned for the blue-haired man.
"I can't drive, Jack-o," Kett panted. "Too drunk and no blood flow to my brain."
"I'll drive, switch me spots."
"All right," Kett kissed him hard, groaning as the shift forced Jack's hand lower.
They switched places, Jack's heart pounded and Kett panted in the passenger seat. Jack couldn't believe it! Normally, Kett would never have stopped--he would have fucked Jack right there.
He really is changing. . .Jack thought, driving to Kett's apartment.
"I love you, Jack," Kett purred.
"Love you too, Kett," he smiled, reaching over and massaging the inner thigh--earning a loud groan in return.
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Another week went by, Lock knew Jack had started seeing Kett again. She even confronted him about it, trying to talk sense into the teen, but it was to no avail. Jack was convinced that Kett was a changed man, a better man, he was still 'in love' with him.
He's so used to playing victim, she growled, tuning her guitar. Will he ever move past that?
"And now! Presenting again, for the first time in a long ass time," Ransom announced to the crowd, "I give you: 'Heart's Locket'!"
Lock had started sneaking out at night to go play at the Velvet Noose again, putting her defenses up full force against the Mercer household. She rarely spoke to anyone, even Bobby, and was trying to get herself built up to ditch them and be done with it.
The band was making due with a temp named Aiden, making it so they could have Lock sing and play, or just play, or just sing, with ease. It was now, herself, Aiden, Connor, and Cooper (the gay couple), but she was playing. They moved to their places on stage, the curtains slowly opened, and Lock felt the ever familiar rush of her music high.
"This first song goes out to all the little girls who wanted to be princesses," she said in a low voice to the crowd.
The teens cheered and clapped, calling her band's name over and over, fueling her heart even more. She slowly started to play a phantom-like solo, soon being joined by Coop's bass and Aiden's guitar. She looked up, over the microphone, and the beat changed--going from sweet and cute to dark and insane. Cooper pounded on his drums, Lock's guitar screeching a haunting solo, and she poured her soul into the mic.
"There are no happy endings!
That's only I lie,
For pretty little girls at bedtime!
There are no princes,
Only monsters in disguise.
Broken-hearted princess
And tattered little promises.
When the charm and glitter's faded,
And the sparkle can't be found,
When the crown turns to ashes,
And you're breathless on the ground--
Would a fairytale help save you?
Or simply make you drown?"
She and Aiden broke into a slow, depressing guitar duet, leaning their heads together. Slowly, they were joined by the other two, and the beat picked back up.
"Can you believe a heartfelt song?
When you've lived without a heart
For so very long.
Tell me little princess,
Do you wish upon the stars?
Tell me pretty baby,
Has anyone seen your scar?
Has someone come to save you
From the way you behave?
Reckless little beauty,
With eyes so full of pain,
Is it even possible
For you to be saved?
When the charm and glitter's faded
And the sparkle can't be found,
When the crown turns to ashes
And I'm breathless on the ground!
Will you come to save me?
Or simply watch me drown. . .?"
They went through three more songs, then took their pay and hung around the club. Lock sat away from everyone, drinking a Cherry Coke, and people watching. Ransom bounced up and sat on her lap, wrapping her arms around Lock's neck.
"Man, we have missed you playin', babe!" she grinned. "When are you comin' home?"
"I dunno," Lock muttered. "Soon I hope. . ."
She fidgeted with her hoodie, she had stopped wearing Jack's coat for the most part--as a way to distance herself further.
"Locket," Ransom sighed, "you were getting close to the Mercers, weren't you?"
"No, and don't fuckin' call me Locket!" she snapped. "You know I hate that nickname."
"What's your issue?"
"Nothing," she growled, "just stressed."
"Yeah, well I hate to add to it," Ransom murmured, staring at the entrance. "But uhhh. . .isn't that Bobby Mercer right there at the door?"
Lock looked to the door, seeing the familiar dark brown hair, and his brown leather jacket with the red hoodie under it. His blue eyes scanned the people, quick and expert. Bobby knew how to find people, but what he didn't know was that Lock had made a living disappearing.
"Shit," she growled, "Ransom, get off me! I gotta vanish. . ."
"Wait, where are you gonna go? He'll see you! What if he's not alone?"
"I'll be fine! Now move!"
Ransom got off her lap and sat on the bench, pretending Lock had never been there. Lock slipped her hoodie off and pulled her hair back, changing how she looked a little. She moved through the crowd, careful not to draw attention to herself, and looked for an easy coat to lift. She was halfway to the back exit when she saw a plain, black leather jacket on the back of a chair.
Perfect, she thought, putting the hoodie on and pulling the hood up.
She walked by the chair, lifting the jacket with one fluid movement, and put it on. She had the sudden feeling she'd been spotted, and she hurried.
"Stray!" Bobby hollered.
"Fuck!" she hissed, glancing back.
Bobby had seen her and was moving toward her. Lock bolted to the ext, nailing the push handle with both hands, and burst into the snowy night. She hit the chain link fence, searching for the section that had been cut for the longest time.
"Damn!" she growled, seeing that Mac (the club owner) had finally got around to fixing it.
"Lock!" Bobby erupted through the door. "Lock, what in the hell are you doing?! Tryin' to get your dumb ass tossed into a cell?"
"Leave me the fuck alone, Bobby!" she snapped, looking to the razor wire at the top of the fence.
That's gonna hurt like hell goin' over, she thought grimly.
"Stray," Bobby said calmly. "What's goin' on with you? I thought we were getting close to you. . ."
"You are not my friend, Bobby! We are not close, you can not save me!" she yelled, her back against the fence.
I got too close. . .so much for a painless departure. . .
"Stray," he whispered, moving closer, "why are you shoving us away? Do you know what you're doin' to Ma? Or Jackie? How 'bout me!? Do you care?!"
Yes. . .but I can't risk it! My heart can't take any more sorrow, pain, lies. . .You'll all just hurt me. . .
She didn't answer him, instead she turned and scaled the fence as fast as she could. Bobby tried to grab her leg, but she kicked him and moved faster. The razor wire got closer and she knew she'd have to go over it, hearing Bobby yell something.
She ignored him and hit the top of the fence, slicing her hands open, and used the coat she took to protect her back as she rolled over. She slid her arms from the sleeves, felt a razor bite into her calf and another one into her shoulder, and free fell to the ground. Her knees gave out as she hit, but she scrambled back up and ran as quickly as she could.
They'll just give up on me! They'll just let me sit in jail, it's better this way!
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Bobby paced the kitchen furiously. Ma sat at the table patiently, speaking with a cop named Smiths, about Lock.
"Yes, she took off," Ma was saying. "No, we don't know where she is or where she would go."
She can't have gotten too far, Bobby mused. Not with that leg. . .
"No! No!" Ma said sternly. "Please don't put her back in jail. I'm bound to save this one, Officer Smiths," she paused. "Well, if I managed to save the four boys I have and call my own, why not a lost little girl?"
'You can not save me!' Lock's voice echoed in his head.
"Bobby?" Jack whispered from the living room.
"Yeah, Jackie?" he growled, turning to face the teen.
"Why'd she ditch us?" Jack had been crying, still was a little bit. "Did she say?"
"No, Jackie boy, she didn't say," he said softly, not wanting to upset the kid any more.
"It's my fault, isn't it?" he started crying more.
"Cracker Jack," he murmured, pulling the kid into a strong hug. "Why the hell would you think that?"
"'Cuz. . ." he sobbed. "I kissed her. . . And 'cuz I went back to Kett after I swore I wouldn't-."
"You're back with Kett?!" he said a little more harshly than he meant to. "Why?!"
"I don't know, Bobby! He's actually changed this time!"
"Yeah, like every other time?" he grumbled, rubbing the boy's back.
"Bobby, please! Not right now! I can't fight with you about this right now!" he whimpered into Bobby's shoulder.
"All right, all right, Jackie," he soothed. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about Stray."
"Is Ma really gonna have her back here?"
"Course she will, Cracker Jack," he snickered. "Look how many times I've fucked up! I'm still here, ain't I?"
"Only to avoid a prison stretch!" Jack whined.
"True, but I'm still here," he said firmly. "Ma is the only one in the whole world who never abandons any of us kids."
"Do you think Lock will stay here? Or just bail again?"
"I dunno, kiddo," he messed up his hair. "But I do know that if she does bail, it'll be quite a few times before she learns that Ma won't quit on her."
The song Lock sang is one of my own! Called 'Broken Little Princess'...what'd ya think?