Chapter Ten
Three hours after Bobby had seen Lock in the club, he sent Jackie to bed. Ma sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and Bobby sat next to her, twisting the top off a beer.
"Bobby," Ma scolded, "it's four in the morning. You shouldn't be drinking."
"Just this one, Ma," he grinned, taking a swig. "I promise."
"Bobby, how long has she been sneaking out? How many nights?"
"Every night this week," he grumbled, taking another drink. "She's been bitchy too, mean. Just lookin' for a fight. . ."
"She's on the verge of self-destruct," Ma whispered, taking a sip of her coffee. "There's so much anger in that little girl, so much fear, and even more pain."
"Ma, Stray ain't no little girl. She's an eighteen-year-old young woman."
"She may be eighteen, Bobby," Ma muttered. "But she's still a scared little girl on the inside. Just like Jackie's a terrified little boy still. . ."
"I get what you're sayin' now, Ma," he took another long gulp from his beer.
"She's not willing to let anyone too close to her, Bobby," she whispered. "For her, that means, pain, abuse, and heartache."
"That's all she knows. . ."
"Yes, very sadly," Ma shook her head. "And when she feels she's getting too close, growing too attached, she runs--before anything can happen."
"But if she never gives anyone a chance to show her that being close doesn't always end up in abuse," Bobby felt that he was starting to understand the scared girl. "How will she ever learn to let people close?"
"That's why she's here, Bobby. To learn that she can let someone in and not be harmed."
"Ma, shit's gonna get real bad when she gets back here," Bobby made direct eye contact with Evelyn. "She's gonna be seriously pissed they're bringin' her back here."
"I know, Bobby. I know," she sighed. "We'll just let her get it out. . .she'll need it, believe me."
The phone rang and Bobby grabbed it before it went off a second time.
"Hello?"
"Bobby Mercer, I presume?" a gruff voice said.
"Who wants to know?" he snarled.
"This is Officer Smiths, I spoke with Evelyn earlier."
"Oh, yeah. I've seen you around the precinct a few times, you're a decent cop. You callin' about Lock?"
Bobby saw his mother's light blue eyes light up with hope. He prayed that they found the girl, he didn't want to see his mother let down.
"Yes, we found her," Smiths paused. "Bobby, I have to warn you, she's in rough shape."
"How do you mean?" he turned his back to his mother, to avoid letting her see anything in his face.
"Well, she got into it with my Rookie once already. . .we're not filing assault charged, Lock had no clue he was with me. . ."
"I see. . .What all--?" he let the cop fill in the blank.
"Well, she's got a blood lip and bruised up hand. . .but she's all cut to hell. . ."
"Yeah, I know about that. . .Are you bringin' her home?" Bobby felt his mother staring holes in his back.
"Yes, let me tell you- she is not pleased," a slight amusement in the man's voice.
"I figured. . .she's pretty pissed then, huh?"
"Beyond pretty pissed, Bobby. This girl's ready to fight the devil and then God himself, she's probably gonna start hell when she steps in that door," Smiths said.
" S'all right. I can take care of it."
"Bobby," the cop said softly.
"No, I didn't mean it like. . .shit," he mumbled.
"We're close, Bobby. Real close. . .Your Ma still up?"
"Yeah," he muttered, thankful the cop didn't take what he had said the wrong way.
"Warn her. . .We'll be there in about ten," the cop said and hung up.
"Robert?" Ma asked, she used his whole first name when-and only when- she was very nervous or pissed.
"Brace yourself, Ma," he sat back down. "She's on the warpath and she's already decked a Rook. . .They're not pressing charges. . ."
"Bobby. . .help her," she pleaded gently. "Help me to help her. . ."
"Sure, Ma. . .Just to warn you, ten minutes or so. . . All hell is gonna break loose."
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"Why the fuck are you takin' me back there, Smiths?!" Lock growled from the back of the cruiser. "Why not put me in jail?!"
"Lock, Mrs. Mercer isn't going to just give up on you," Smiths said calmly from behind the wheel.
"I'm not goin' back!" she snapped.
"Yes, you are!" Rookie turned and stared at her through the metal grate. "So shut the fuck up!"
"Blow me! You Rook piece of shit!" she slammed her cut hands on the grating, wishing she could reach him.
"That's enough!" Smiths bellowed. "We're almost there."
"Turn this car around, Smiths!" she yelled.
"No, Locket," he said gently. "This is for your own good."
"Don't you call me that!" she felt tears coming. "Don't you dare! My mother and only her could ever call me that!"
"I'm sorry, Lock," he whispered. "I forgot."
"Don't do it again," she muttered, wiping her face.
I'll just run away again! They can put me back there, but they can't make me stay!
The house came into view and anger seared in her blood. She growled like an enraged animal and kicked her feet against the mesh grate, then slammed her hands on it.
"Why didn't we cuff that little shit?!" the Rookie barked.
"I'll fuckin' cuff you!" she slammed against the grate. "Again!"
Smiths parked outside the house, on the street, and turned to look at Lock. Sorrow filled the brown eyes as he looked at her. This man was the one who arrived first on the scene of her parent's accidents, the one who cut her belt and pulled her to safety before she died with her parents. He had done the best he could to keep her jail time short, he had tried his best to protect her.
She stared at him, shaking from the amount of anger, and shook her head. The old hound dog of a cop had called her "Locket" out of a habit. When they met, she introduced herself by her mother's pet name for her.
"Rook, go tell them we're here," Smiths commanded the young cop.
"Yes sir," he climbed out and shot Lock a look.
Bastard! her mind screamed.
"Lock, come on," Smiths was already opening the door for her.
"Fuck you," she growled, crossing her arms.
"Lock, please don't make me do this the hard way," he pleaded, extending his hand. "Now, come on."
"No!" she snapped, shoving his hand away.
"Lock, I'll ask one more-."
"Go to hell, you bastard!"
"Lock!" he bellowed. "Get your ass out of my patrol car and get in that damn house! You probably have Evelyn and Bobby worried sick!"
Bobby? Worry?! HA! Funny!!
"They don't care about me! No one does!"
"Kiddo," he knelt down, "they do care about you. I care about you! Evelyn is trying to help you, don't you see that?"
"If you cared," she glared at him, "you'd put me in jail. Where I belong!"
"Out of the car, Lock. Now."
She got out of the car, pushing his hand away, and slammed the door. Smiths took her left elbow and led her to the house. She tried to tear away as they hit the steps, but his grip was iron and he had expected this from her. She growled and went inside, Smiths still holding her elbow.
Bobby stood, leaning against the counter, Evelyn was standing in the entry to the dining room, and the Rookie was floating uselessly around. Evelyn's eyes went wide when she saw Lock, she observed the girls wounds, looking very worried about the gash on her calf. Bobby just looked at her calmly, while she glared at him. Her anger was on the verge of snapping and she didn't care who got the brunt of it.
Just not Jackie. . .
"Evelyn. Bobby," Smiths nodded. "Here she is."
"Where were you, Lock?" Evelyn asked.
"None of your damn business," she growled, wrenching from Smiths grasp.
"We found her wandering among the alleyways, near the old church," Rookie said, casting her a spiteful grin.
"You cocksucker!" she moved for him, but Smiths stepped in between them. "Move, Smiths! This fuck has had this coming all night!"
"Enough, Lock," Smiths said sternly.
"Lock," Evelyn murmured, "why did you leave?"
"Yeah, Stray," Bobby said. "I thought me an' you were just starting to get along."
"Maybe you shoulda stayed in school, Bobby!" she barked. "You could learn a lot!"
The blue eyes stayed calm, he wouldn't be lured into a fight with her this easy. She'd have to keep trying.
"Lock, what happened to your leg?" Evelyn asked.
"Like you really give a shit!"
"Lock, I'm not your enemy here," she said. "I'm trying to-."
"To what!?" Lock demanded, moving to the woman before Smiths could grab her, and glared into her face. "To what?! Save me!?"
"Yes, Lock," she kept her cool, even with Lock yelling right in her face.
"You can't fucking save me! No one can! I'm a god damned lost cause! Another fuck-up who can't be fixed! You're wasting your time!" she snapped.
"Do you really believe that, Lock?" Bobby asked, moving closer in case she took a swing on his mother. "'Cuz that's not the girl I know."
"You don't know me!" she yelled, spinning to face him. "So don't even pretend that you do! You don't know who I am, what I think!"
She stared into the clear, blue eyes, rage whirling in her mind. Her hands balled themselves into fists, and she made them relax, they continued to twitch nervously by her sides. Bobby's breathing had picked up a little, the tension was getting to him, as was the emotion, and his eyes reflected something like sorrow.
"Fuckin' spaz," rookie mumbled from behind her. "Someone oughta teach her a lesson."
"HEY!" Bobby hollered, looking over Lock and pointing a finger at him. "Don't you think about it!"
Lock's anger surged, adrenalin releasing itself into her tortured body, and she spun. She stared at the blonde bastard, who had suddenly gone into a cocky mood.
"What, Lock?" he jeered. "What the hell are you gonna do, Locket?" a grin spread on his face. "Hmm? Little Locket? Wha-?!"
She swung on his without warning, her mother's pet name sending her over the edge, and nailed the young cop in the jaw. She heard bones crunch, knew they weren't hers, and swung with her left--breaking his nose. He howled in agony and held his face, bending down. Lock grabbed his head and brought her knee up, smashing his face into it. Blood spurted everywhere, filling the air with it's familiar cloying and intoxicating scent. She went for her knife, but remembered that Smiths had taken it from her, and settled on hitting him again. She drew her left fist back, but just as she swung, someone caught it.
"Stray!" Bobby shouted. "Enough!"
"FUCK YOU!" she snapped, turning.
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Bobby saw her fist coming for his face a split second too late. Lock's right fist came flying around as she turned, catching him in the jaw. Pain exploded in his jaw, he literally saw stars, and stumbled back.
Good fuck! She's right. . .I don't know. . .
The teen wrenched her left arm free and went to strike again. Luckily, he as on the ball this time, and he ducked, reaching out and snaking her wrist at the same time. He moved behind her, grabbing her other arm, and pinned her to him, her arms crossed in front of her.
She let out an animal roar and went insane. She twisted and turned in his grip, struggling against him, he felt her boot connect with his shin as she kicked back, and hissed as she sank her teeth into his arm. Somehow, she wrenched one arm free and elbowed him hard in the chest, twisting and trying desperately to free her other arm.
"Fuck!" he hissed as he flailed to grab her free arm.
He got a hold of her again, pinning her tightly to him, using every bit of will power he had. He didn't want to hurt the girl, just restrain her, and get her to calm down. She shrieked again, sounding like a very large, very pissed animal, but within the rageful noise was pain and sorrow. He glanced up and saw Jackie standing in the doorway, terror and astonishment all over his face. Bobby had sent him to his room for a damn reason: to avoid seeing this.
"Jackie!" Evelyn saw him too. "Upstairs now!"
Jack turned and went up the stairs, but stopped and sat, watching through the banister. He was family, he had a right to stay and watch. Lock growled again, squirming weaker, but Bobby could feel her anger coming back.
"Let me go!" she snapped, bracing herself and shoving back.
Bobby held on to her, stumbling back into the cabinets, seeing red as he hit his head against one. He saw that Jack was crying, watching the two of them struggle, and he felt determined to stop this. Lock lurched forward against his grip and he held tighter.
"Get the hell off me, you motherfucker!" she bellowed, starting to be taken by her sorrow.
"No," he said firmly, pulling her back and speaking in her ear. "Lock, no."
"YES!" she screamed, sinking to her knees. "Please!"
Bobby sank to the floor with her, still holding on to her, and pulled her closer. The teen was crying, her whole body being battered by the emotion, and she trembled. She rocked forward, screaming in agony and defeat, the sound making Bobby's heart ache. Being brave, he released one arm, and moved to take her hair out of it's holder. He didn't know why he did it, he just did. Her hair tumbled down, hanging in her face as her scream faded into tears.
So much rage, so much hurt, so much sorrow! How can she live with all this inside her? he wondered.
She can't, Bobby, his mind answered. She won't! Unless someone helps her. . .HELP her!
"Let me go!" she sobbed. "Please let me go!"
"No, Stray," he murmured, brushing her hair from her face. "I'm not gonna simply watch you drown."
The girl in his arms went slack, crying even harder at the realization that Bobby had watched her play. Bobby gently leaned back against the lower cabinets, feeling her turn. He tensed a little, half expecting a sneak attack, but relaxed when she curled into his chest, burying her face in him.
Her hands grabbed the back of his shirt, she pulled closer to him--almost as if she were trying to melt into him, and sobbed. Bobby shifted, heard her whimper and panic, and wrapped his arms around her tightly.
"Shhhh, Stray," he rubbed her back. "Big Bad Ass Bobby ain't goin' nowhere. . ."
"No, but she is!" the Rookie cop hissed through his bloody hands.
"No, she is not," Ma said firmly.
"Oh, no?" he uttered a laugh. "She just assaulted a cop, she just earned herself some jail time. C'mon, Locket."
Lock growled and clung to Bobby, he felt her bite into his chest to keep from talking and to keep the rage at bay.
"Rookie!" Smiths barked, moving in on his apprentice. "That nickname is used only by her late mother! Do you understand?!"
Shit Lock. . .I get it now. . .he pulled a low blow on you. . .I woulda kicked his ass too!
"What?! She's not getting any trouble for this?! She busted my nose and cracked my jaw!"
"Do you want that jaw to match your nose?" Smiths growled. "If not, get your ass to the patrol car!"
The young cop stormed out, Lock relaxed a little but still cried. Smiths looked at everyone, noticed that Jack had crept back to the doorway and shook his head.
"Bobby, do you got this?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure we can handle it. . .Me and Jackie, I mean. . ." he smiled. "Do you mind, Stray? If he comes over and joins in a hug? He's scared shitless. . ."
Lock shook her head, allowing Jackie to come over, but the teen stayed put for a moment.
"Lock? Are you gonna stay here?" Jack whispered.
"Jack," Ma scolded gently.
The boy shuffled his feet, looked away, and bit his lip.
"Evelyn, may I speak to you outside?" Smiths asked.
"Of course," she turned to Bobby. "Get her cleaned up when you can, all right?"
He nodded and she left with the cop. Jack turned and bolted upstairs, hiding in his room. Lock snickered, then looked up at Bobby.
"He prolly hates me right now, huh?"
"Nah. . .C'mon, let's go see him," he got up and put his arm around her shoulders.