Chapter Twenty-Six
Bobby gaped at Stray's apartment. It was awesome: hundreds of movies on homemade shelves around a decent sized entertainment system, bean bag chairs, an L shaped couch. . .it was comfortable feeling.
"Any movies you guys wanna borrow, feel free," Stray said, gesturing the shelves.
"Thanks, Stray," Bobby smiled.
"They're all horror," Jack said, searching the shelves.
"No, most are horror. . .just keep looking, it's like a treasure hunt!" she laughed. "Oh and Bobby could you write down what ones we're taking? So Ransom don't freak out. . ."
"Sure thing, kiddo," he mumbled, absorbed in his hunt.
That kid is somethin' else. . .used her knife to jimmy the freaking door. . .man oh man. . .
"Here, princess," he teased Jack, "a funny movie."
"Blow me, Bobby."
"Nah, that's sick, little brother," he laughed.
They found a decent handful of movies, including two more Resident Evil movies, and Bobby wandered into Lock's room to ask if he was allowed to smoke inside.
"Whoa," he said, seeing her room.
The walls were a deep violet, the ceiling a dark blue, and the carpet was orange. It was painted like a grave scene, grave stones, angel statues, and a big tree in one corner--with a fake skeleton on a noose tacked to the ceiling. Jack bumped into him and was just as taken by her room.
"Wow, Lock. . .Did you do all this?" Jack asked.
"Yeah. . .made the bed too. . ." she smiled, packing a black back pack.
"Jesus!" Bobby got a chill from looking at her bed.
She sleeps in a damn coffin?!
"A coffin, Lock?" Jack gulped. "Are you serious?!"
"Yeah, Ransom wouldn't let me buy a real coffin, so I just improvised. . ." she laughed.
"Ain't it weird?" Bobby asked.
"No."
Jack flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, but sat up quickly. He found it too weird obviously, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably, and gave Bobby a concerned look. The girl was a hell of a lot darker than he ever expected, more Gothic than Jackie had ever been or even dreamed of, and it freaked him out a little.
"We allowed to smoke?" he asked.
"Fire escape," she gestured her window.
"Cool," he opened the window and climbed out, Jack got up and followed him.
They lit up, sitting on the escape, and shared a comfortable silence for a moment. Jack blew smoke rings, then a jet of smoke, and looked at Bobby with concerned hazel eyes.
"I've been thinkin' about asking Stray more about her past, Cracker Jack," he mumbled.
"I don't think that's gonna happen. . .She's not ready to talk yet. . ."
"I still wanna try, Jack," he said firmly. "We need to know more about her. . ."
"Bobby. . .Don't push too hard with her. . ." Jack was on the verge of pleading. "Don't scare her off. . ."
"Jackie boy," he rubbed the kid's shoulders, "I know what I'm doing. Did I ever push too much gettin' you to tell me shit?"
'They'd touch me, Bobby. . .Make it feel good. . .But it felt bad at the same time. . .' eight-year-old Jack had told him.
Jack wasn't looking at him, the teen's eyes were black--like when he was a kid and had flashbacks. Bobby wanted to touch his arm, but sometimes that was a bad idea and Jack would freak out. Jack started to tremble violently, breathing irregularly, and Bobby chanced it.
"Jack?" he touched his arm. "Jackie?"
The hazel eyes snapped back into focus, scared and confused, and Jack started to cry. Bobby rubbed his back, not knowing what else to do for his brother.
"Fuck," Jack got himself together. "Haven't done that in years. . .Shit!"
"You all right, Apple Jacks?"
"Gettin' there. . ." he took a shaky breath.
Bobby waited patiently to see if Jack would talk about it or just leave it. Jack got himself calmed down and stared at his hands.
"Bobby?" he muttered.
"Go ahead, Jackie. Spill if you want."
"Thanks. . ." he took a deep breath. "Member when I was like twelve and they placed me somewhere else for five months. . .cuz Ma hadn't adopted me officially yet?"
"Yeah. . ." Bobby mumbled.
I hated that. . .
"I never told you what happened there, did I?"
"Nah. . .and you were too fucked up when you came back for me to risk askin'. . ."
"Well," Jack's hand started shaking, "it was the worst one. . .They'd fucking deprive us kids, the new ones, of our shirts and pants. . .Paired us up with the older boys. . .The fuck head of a dad was a major creep. . .he'd--tape us--," he took a second.
Bobby listened to Jack, not commenting or anything, and let him just get this out.
"He'd, the dad, would come in at night, wake us up. . .set up his camera. . ." Jack's anger started to seep in. "Jerk off as he told the older one what to do with the younger. . .he'd make it last hours. . .his boys were experienced, they knew what to do and how to make it feel like it was all right. . .they made it feel good. . ."
Jack growled, his thumb rubbing his wrist like he did when he was really upset. Bobby reached over and stopped him when the teen started using his nail on his wrist, it made Bobby nervous.
He was royally fucked up after that home. . .Suicidal. . .depressed. . .That was when he entered this Gothic phase, thank god he's toned it down a lot. . .he cut himself too. . .shit. . .
"Jackie," Bobby muttered, "stop with the wrists, man, please. . ."
"Shit," he mumbled, stopping. "Sorry, Bobby. . ."
"Jack. . ."
"I'm fine, Bobby. . .Never goin' back to that dumb shit, I promised you--remember?" Jack gave him a slight smile.
Bobby nodded, grinning a little himself, and waited to see if Jack would go on. Jack made eye contact with him and shook his head, he was done sharing for now.
"In?" Bobby looked to the window.
"Yeah," Jack stood up.
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Lock was laying on her bed when the boys came back inside, she hoped they weren't wanting to leave yet, she missed her place. Bobby gave her a knowing smile, tickling her feet as he walked by, and went to go browse more movies. He shot Jack a gentle warning look before he left.
"So, any particular reason it's painted like a damn cemetery in here?" Jack asked, laying on his stomach next to her.
"I like it. . ." she didn't know how to explain her morbid fascination with death.
Jack propped himself up on his elbows, staring at her with those beautiful eyes of his, and she found him absolutely adorable. He smirked as she touched his face, she noticed how long and pretty his eyelashes were, and carefully ran her fingertips over them. His eyes closed and he nuzzled into her palm, kissing her hand, she snickered, and let her hands travel to his neck. He kept his eyes closed as she ran her fingers down his throat, biting his lip as she teased the hair on the back of his neck, and she had a daring idea.
Is it possible to replace bad memories with new ones, new people she wondered, her fingers slipping under the back of his shirt.
"Lock?" he asked quietly, eyes opening and looking concerned.
Too soon to test it! her body screamed and she listened.
"I don't know. .." she murmured, embarrassed.
"I think I do," he smirked, kissing her forehead.
"No. . . I don't think you do," she said softly.
"How much are you willing to bet?" he smiled sweetly.
"Jackie boy?" she asked, nervous.
"A kiss, bet me one kiss. . ." he grinned.
"Dork," she played with his hair. "Fine, one kiss. . ."
"You were wondering if it's possible to replace bad memories with new ones. . .Using me, I'm guessing. . ." he said, propping himself over her.
"How the hell do you fucking do that?" she was shocked. "It's freaky. . ."
"So, I believe you owe me," he grinned, hazel eyes twinkling. "Pay up."
She rolled her eyes, laughing at him, but paid up. Lock gently pulled him to her, brushing their mouths together, and his eyes fluttered shut. She thought about leaving it at that, but thought she better not, it wasn't really paying her debt. He let her control it, interacting just enough to keep it fun, and she felt light headed--in a very good way. She ignored his stud this time, focusing only on him, and he seemed a little frustrated by it, but dealt with it.
Can't always get what you want. . .she thought.
She broke the contact, heart racing pleasantly, and closed her eyes. Jack's lips met the corner of hers, trailing to her neck, then back up to her mouth, and down the other side of her throat. She snickered, letting him kiss her neck, and felt no fear whatsoever. His tongue flicked out, tracing small shapes on her, and she squirmed from the tickle. Jack slowly bit her exposed collar, gently sucking on the skin, and she realized what the brat was doing.
"Don't you dare!" she hissed, gently pulling him off by a handful of hair. "Not another one!"
"Too late," he smirked. "Better cover this one up."
"You bastard!" she laughed, sitting up.
"I love you," he said sweetly, giving her an innocent look.
I. . .love you too, Jackie boy. . .Why the hell can't I say it!? her mind screamed. I want to so badly. . .
"Suck up," she smiled, kissing his cheek.
The phone rang, Lock instinctively went to see who it was, standing by the answering machine. Bobby was busy writing down the movies they had borrowed on a pad of paper he found and Jack leaned on the counter next to him. The machine clicked on and they all listened.
"Ransom?" it was Zane. "You there? Babe, pick up the damn phone! I know you miss me--."
Lock's anger surged and she snatched up the phone, staying silent for a second.
"Told you that you missed me, Ranny," Zane purred.
"Wrong," she growled, feeling Bobby and Jack stare at her. "Zane, I think you're the one missing something. . ."
"Lock," he breathed, "what could I be missing?"
"Hmmmm. . .I dunno," she said darkly. "It's a toss-up between my fist in your face and my boot in your rib cage. . .You tell me which one you miss more and I'll be sure you get it."
"Oh, Lock," he purred, "keep up the trash talk. . .you know it turns me on. . ."
That was the one thing she kept from Ransom: the fact that if she wasn't around, Zane would hit on her and get gross. The sick fuck never got farther than saying shit to Lock, aside from the few times he'd jagged off in front of her, when she couldn't beat the living day lights out of him.
"It would, wouldn't it?" she grumbled. "You fucking disgust me. . ."
"Where's Ransom?" he asked casually.
"Away from you, like she's supposed to be."
"Mmmmm," he purred. "Lock, you're makin' me so damn hard over here. . ." she heard a hint in his voice that suggested he was already taking care of it.
"Yeah?" she pulled her knife from her pocket and held it close to the phone.
"Oh, GOD yes!" he moaned, confirming her previous thought.
"Come over here," she flicked the blade open, knowing he could hear it over the phone. "And I'll be sure to take care of it for you."
"Oh. . .kinky. . .kinky. . .little girl!" he groaned. "Don't tempt me, baby doll. . .I might just take you up on that. . ."
"Go ahead," she challenged, "I've got nothing better to do today than castrate some dumb ass like you. . .but I guess you'd have to have a dick first for me to do that, wouldn't you, Zane?"
"See you soon, Lock, baby," Zane said and hung up.
She slammed the phone on the counter, fuming in rage, closed her knife and slid it into her coat pocket. She stormed to her room, grabbing her packed bag, and ran into Bobby at her door.
"Move!" she snapped, trying unsuccessfully to get by.
"Stray," he was eerily calm, "what the fuck just happened?"
"Zane's coming over," she growled. "Figured I'd give him a proper welcome."
"No way, kiddo," he said firmly. "You let me handle his dumb ass."
She growled at him, Bobby's hand grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her face close to his, his blue eyes staring into her. He wasn't being rude or mean, he was using the only thing to make her listen: dominance and body language. He was the oldest, this was his job, and she was now the baby in his eyes.
"Fine," she mumbled, dropping her attitude for the most part. "But if I jump in, I jump in. . ."
"Deal," he grinned, massaging her neck. "Sorry about. . ."
"Don't be. . .you wouldn't have made me listen any other way. . ."
"Uhhhh. . .Lock, Jones just showed up," Jack called.
"Lock! Zane's out front, he's messing with the kids. . ." Jones called. "Get the fuck down there!"
"Right!" she yelled, moving past Bobby. "Jackie, grab the movies."