The Rules of Survival (Mercer #1)

RoS Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Seven

I was surprised Mr. Jacobs didn't immediately slam his door in my face following my little lead in speech. His comment about Justice being my bodyguard took a while to process too, and I cranked my head sideways to regard him thoughtfully.

He in turn was looking at me, his eyebrow arched in an is-this-guy-serious kind of way. When it was apparent that Mr. Jacobs was waiting for an answer, I obliged with, "Well, he's not a bodyguard, and when I say I'm here to talk to you, he's here to help fill in some of the blanks."

"Wait a second, he's a gangster isn't he?" Mr. Jacobs asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion as he pointed at Justice.

"Relax, I'm not here to rob you blind or shoot you."

That being said, it took me a few minutes to convince my English teacher that despite Justice's career choice he was not about to go Godfather on Mr. Jacobs's ass and chop him up into tiny pieces. I had to swear up and down that my visit was for legitimate reasons and that letting a seasoned gangster into his house wasn't going to be the biggest, or last, mistake of his life. And since Mr. Jacobs was going for broke – what did he have to lose at this point? – he invited my brothers and sisters in along with Sal, 'the babysitter', whom he'd finally noticed were standing at the end of his driveway.

The inside of Mr. Jacobs's house consisted of sparse modern furnishings in dark greys and blacks that complemented the light peach wallpaper. He led us into the living room and switched on a forty inch plasma TV bracketed to the far wall, handing the remote to Scout who just stared at him wide eyed.

"Watch whatever you want," Mr. Jacobs said, gesturing towards two plush leather sofas. When they did nothing but stand there and gape at him, he laughed nervously and raised his eyebrows at me. "Wow, okay, is this normal?"

"Guys, it's fine," I said, ruffling Lucky's hair and urging Scout forward towards the closest sofa. "I'm just going to talk to Mr. Jacobs for a minute. How about you watch some TV until we're done? Sal's going to sit with you, too."

Sal made a rude noise of disagreement from the lounge doorway, one that Justice silenced with a look and a slight shake of his head. Sighing in resignation, Sal forced a smile to his face and got out through clenched teeth, "Oh, boy, who's up for some Dora the Explorer?"

When Mycha screwed his face up in disgust, Sal rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. Spongebob it is."

Mycha was aghast. "Dude, you're like, twenty five. How do you even know what cartoons are playing?"

Highly offended, Sal came fully into the room to cuff Mycha over the back of the head, where he was standing with Ryan in his arms.

"Ouch!"

"I'm twenty three, thank you very much, and I'm five at heart. That's how I know what cartoons are playing. Now sit your butt down and respect your elders."

Leaving the two boys to their bickering and Scout channel surfing, Mr. Jacobs led the way to his kitchen through a wooden sliding door. He was about to close it behind Justice when there was a startled squawk and Ryan wriggled his way out of Mycha's lap. Running as fast as his chubby little legs would carry him, he flung his arms out. "Momma! Momma!"

Justice swiftly sidestepped to avoid coming into contact with him, and I snatched Ryan up into my arms a second before he would have crashed into my leg.

"Ryan, what's wrong?" I smoothed his curly blond hair out of his eyes.

His small hand grabbed a fistful of my denim jacket at the collar. "No, Momma, no," he said, big blue eyes wide and fearful.