The Rules of Survival (Mercer #1)

RoS Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One

Ignorance was bliss. And it royally pissed people off, which in my case didn't hurt.

Justice wasn't stupid; he knew I was avoiding him and the lecture he was dying to deliver to me. As soon as he pulled Sal's car up to my house I was out like a shot– albeit a very slow, unsteady, wounded shot.

My stomach was unimpressed with all the moving about I was doing and expressed its dislike by cramping and sparing me with sharp bolts of pain. I'd definitely have some serious bruising the next day. As for my face, I could already feel the skin below my right eye tightening, a hot heaviness replacing the original stinging itch.

I'd somehow bruised my tailbone, and I had the sneaking suspicion my killer headache was the result of being hit in the face one too many times today. As a whole, the magnitude of pain I was in was drastically impeding my chances of getting away from Justice before he could start in on me.

While I made a wobbly beeline for the house, Justice and Sal had a quick word by the car. I was just unlocking my front door when Sal started his Beamer and drove off. He was on taxi duty today and headed for the high school first; Mycha had become his personal buffer between him and the kids.

I let myself in and left the door open behind me, disregarding the fleeting temptation I had to lock it and therefore keep my impending chastisement on the other side of the flimsy wood. Not that locking Justice out would do me any good. If he was in the mood to expend a little energy, he'd just break it down and then tell me off for implementing yet another ludicrous idea.

The first thing I did was check on Ray. He was passed out face down in the living room, his soft snoring easily discernible in the otherwise quiet house. Not quite reassured, I forced my battered body to crouch over him to run my hands over the back of his head, down his neck, and along his spine. He wasn't wearing Justice's coat anymore, having shed it to get his stitches.

Satisfied that he was okay for the moment, I tugged the edge of a blanket free from under his body and tucked it around him. Deep in sleep his face was completely lax. Void of the rage and momentary insanity that had consumed him earlier. It was this reassurance most of all that had me breathing out a sigh of relief. He was back to normal.

I pushed his mop of brown hair out of his eyes and he didn't even twitch. It made me wonder if he was actually asleep, or rather, unconscious.

"He's fine," Henry said, though when I glanced up I discovered he was speaking to Justice who nodded in acknowledgement.

"Those pills were a real help, too. There's enough punch in one of those to knock out an elephant. The kid was out before we even left the hospital, and we had to carry his heavy ass inside. This was the easiest place to toss him."

Alec walked around the corner then, having come from down the short hall. In his hand was a pack of cigarettes and in his mouth was one he was halfway to lighting.

"Out," I barked at him, clambering to my feet. I pointed in the direction of the back door. He raised his dark brows, his mouth forming a tiny O of disbelief.

"You're not smoking in my house," I said with a firm shake of my head.

"Why not?" He flicked his Zippo open to strike a flame.

"Because I said so," I ground out through clenched teeth. When he sneered at me and started to bring the lighter to his lips, I added, "Light up in here and I will shove that Zippo down your throat. The entire pack of smokes will follow, just so it's not lonely."