The Name of the Game

Chapter 18

"Hey, just so you know, dad got shot a couple of times, and mom got a little scratched up, so one of the doctors is at our place right now."

Mikey's jaw dropped. "Gee, what the hell?!" he cried. "You told me everyone was fine!"

"They are!" Gerard said. "They're just a little banged up, that's all."

Mikey sighed. "As long as they aren't dead," he said. "What about Frank? How's he?"

"Oh, he's alright." Gerard looked over at his brother. "So," he said, "I guess now... everyone knows everything."

Mikey bobbed his head up and down, licking his chapped lips. "Everyone knows everything."

"You okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm kind of relieved. Well, obviously this puts a whole bunch of new shit on our shoulders, but at least we aren't hiding anything from our boyfriends anymore."

"That's true. But our parents-"

"We can work around them." Mikey wriggled out of his shirt so that he could start putting his suit back on. The material scratched his skin. "Where'd you tell them I was?" he asked.

"I told them you were camping out behind Il Buco because you had no idea what the protocol was."

"Gotcha." Mikey pulled his suit pants on, squirming as the dried mud rubbed his legs. "What exactly... happened to you guys?" he asked.

Gerard sighed. "Well, we ran out the back, I shot some guy in the face, got grazed somewhere along the way, and then we hid in the woods for about a half hour. Then I called mom and told her I had dropped my phone, which was true. So she sent a car for me, and it was Jim. He was totally fine. Turns out, he had been behind the bar to shoot, so he was able to avoid every single bullet."

"Sneaky bastard," Mikey muttered. "What'd mom and dad get into?"

"Dad was, obviously, right in the middle of the action, hence why there are about seven bullets and two stab wounds in him right now. But he's doing fine, don't worry. I like Frank, but his men are pretty shit at shoot-outs. Anyway, mom saw a woman grab a gun off the floor and aim it at dad, so she lunged at her. Now there are three pretty scratches on her face, and some good old fashioned gashes in her forearms where the woman was grabbing at her."

"Wow. I guess mom really would take a bullet for her family."

Gerard nodded and pulled up to their house. Mikey stared at it. He felt a hint of resentment rising in his chest. He could feel the threatening authority of the house. He wanted nothing more than a simple welcoming feeling when looking at it. Gerard then spoke, snapping Mikey out of his thoughts.

"Got all your shit together?" Gerard asked.

"Are we talking about the clothes or my sanity?"

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Let's go, Mikes."

The brothers walked up and into their house. Donald was in the living room, laying on a fold-out cot. He was speaking angrily to the doctor, who was knelt beside him and surrounded by blood-soaked white cloths. Donna was in the kitchen, reading a book. There were bandages on her forearms, and three red scratches on her face, just like Gerard had said.

Donna looked up at her sons and dropped the book. She scurried over to them, grabbing Mikey in a tight hug. "Darling," she said, "I was so worried about you. Are you okay?"

"I got shot in the ear at some point, I'm pretty bruised and scratched up, but that's all of us," Mikey said. "Other than that, I'm doing just fine. How are you feeling, though?"