A/N: I do not own anything but the plot. Although I do wish that I owned Leo Howard ;D the first part is 3rd person limited, 2nd part is Kim's POV
Hero
As another blow connected with Kim's stomach she prayed silently 'Please let this end. Please, God please.' She couldn't believe how many hits he'd dealt to her recovering body since returning home from the dojo. If only it would stop. As if reading her mind, the blows finally subsided and she heard him slamming the door and starting his car. Thinking about John, her big brother and guardian since their father died in a car crash and their mother's subsequent suicide. Everyday this occurred. Him violating her mind with cruel words, abusing her body with his angered fists and steel-toe boot covered feet, and assaulting her in her dreams, verbally, mentally and physically. She never understood why he felt the need to hurt her. She used to be his top priority, the one thing he'd protect with his life and all he had.
Today had been her final straw, she knew she needed to gather the strength to leave or she may never live to see graduation. With the abuse done for now until John returned from the bar doing God knows what and God knows who, she went to go collect her belongings that had been strewn all over the ground when John had wrenched her bag off of her arm for his daily assault.
She looked at her phone, seeing there was no physical damage to the device she activated the screen. The locked screen picture was the last happy memory with her whole family. They'd driven to Miami Beach and spent the whole day playing games on the boardwalk and swimming. The picture showed them standing on the beach, her dad behind her, her mother standing behind John who stood next to her. They were the family divided, John and their mother both dark haired with blazing green eyes, Kim getting her father's blond tresses and chocolate brown eyes . It had been taken 5 days before their father's death.
It was the only picture she had left of her family. John had destroyed all family portraits in a drunk and drug induced rage. That was the first of many changes in character. The 19 year old boy that had claimed the straight-edge life was now 21 living the polar opposite. She still had that picture because, despite who John was now, she wanted to remember them that way. Happy, complete, whole.
She remembered when John was accepted into Florida State, going for oncology with specialization in pediatrics. When they talked about opening a hematology and oncology practice once Kim was finished with school. But when their mom committed suicide, he dropped out and turned to the same things she did before she let her lifeblood pour out in a bath. Yanked out of her reverie, she heard her phone ring. The name displayed was like a gift from God. She debated answering, not trusting her voice would have the strength and cheer needed to pull off the façade she'd become so accustomed to throwing around her. Her hand against her mind's will answered. She let out a shaky, heartbreaking greeting. "Kimmy, are you okay? Do you need help?" inquired Jack. "No," she replied "I need you to come to my house. I need your help." "I'll be there in a minute. I'm already getting my jacket on and going to start my car." Kim could hear Jack's car keys jingling.
I heard Jack calling for me as he knocked and I ran from my room to answer the door. When he saw me, he stopped. I knew I looked bad with my assortment of injuries. A developing black eye, busted lip and a multitude of bruises riddling my tank top and short-short covered body. He pulled me into such a tight hug that I winced when it added more pressure to my already sore and bruised muscles. When Jack heard, he pulled back; his eyes rimmed red with unshed tears. "How come you didn't tell any of us at the dojo that this was happening? We coulda-I coulda-something coulda been done!"
He curled his hands into fists and I involuntarily flinched. Jack noticed and automatically started apologizing. "Kimmy….I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at John. What happened to him? He used to be so cool and nice." He sounded sympathetic and furious at the same. I responded his question coldly. "Simple. He stopped taking his therapy sessions and started drinking." He looked stunned. "Sooooo….where are you going to live?" Jack was obviously trying to change the topic. "I don't care. I'll live on the streets if I have to, but I'm not living here."
"Well… I have an idea. If you're up to it." Jack said with a glint in his eyes.
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