Mr. Jefferson grabbed one of the bottles in front of him. His eyes stay locked on Warren, as the drunken teen stumbled further into the room. His anger was easy to see, Mark ignored it. To him, it was funny. He knew that he could take the youngster, especially if he was drunk. What he couldn't see from where he was standing, that Warren was not alone; he had brought backup along with him. "So, Mr. Graham, what is your choice? Do you want to be like Max? Or...that punk friend of hers...Chloe I think her name is?" Mark smirked, pulling the needle out of the bottle.
Warren stumbled forward, the anger showing on his face. "How dare you hurt her? You're her teacher! You were supposed to protect her! To protect all of them! Instead, you're some sick and twisted freak!" Warren shouted his hands still balled into fists.
"So, how did you come to find us anyway?" Mark asked, moving from behind the desk, ready to get Warren with the drug. "You obviously didn't follow us, I was very careful to make sure of that. Plus, you're so drunk you can barely walk, let alone drive."
Glaring at the teacher in front of him, Warren stopped. He wanted to stay far enough away. Although he wanted to punch the man, he couldn't get close without getting dosed; which would make all of this pointless. "I had some help. When Max didn't answer her text messages, I knew something was wrong...so I came looking for her. And I just so happen to know someone who has seen the place before."
From behind, someone else followed him in, gun in hand. He walked quietly into the room, aiming the gun at Mark. Although, he too seemed surprised to find the teacher there. "Mr. Jefferson? It's you?" David asked, his voice full of anger.
"Yes, it's me," Mark laughed, rolling his eyes. He was doing his best to keep calm. Reaching back, he set the needle down on the desk. "I guess this just won't do," he said as he reached into his back pocket. His fingers wrapped around his gun, pulling it out.
Now that Mark's focus had changed to David, Warren saw his chance. Diving at the older man, Warren's fist slammed into Mr. Jefferson's jaw as hard as he could. He knew it was dangerous, but for Max, it was worth it. The hit caused Jefferson to jerk, pulling the trigger. A bullet shot out of the gun, just barely missing David who was across the room; now kneeling next to Chloe's dead body. This caused him to stand, aiming his gun at Mark. However, with Warren there, he didn't have a clear shot, so he was unable to fire.
Warren's fist slammed into the other side of Mr. Jefferson's face. With the second hit, Mark dropped the gun to the ground, landing with a loud THUD against the cold pavement. Warren kicked it to the side, focusing on the older man in front of him. "How could you do this to Max? She looked up to you!" Warren spat, hitting him again. His fists still hurt from beating Nathan up earlier that day, but the adrenaline made him forget; hell, the adrenaline sobered him up. He knew what he was doing, and even though part of him had regret beating up Nathan, he didn't want to stop. No, with watching what this man had just done to Max, there was too much anger inside of Warren. The man had drugged Max and killed her best friend. He'd never been so mad.
Mr. Jefferson was able to get one hit in, knocking Warren back slightly. As he dove for the gun, Warren kneed him in the gut. "I don't think so," he snapped. He kicked the gun away again, this time towards David so he could grab it. His foot then connected with Mr. Jefferson's gut. This caused the older man to reach down and grab his stomach in pain. "Think it's funny to drug young girls huh?" Warren yelled, kicking him again. "Are you the one that drugged Kate too?" he continued. Mr. Jefferson tried to roll away from Warren, which only caused Warren to lean down and grab his jacket. His fist met his face again, however this time in the nose, causing his glasses to break. He got a few chunks of the lens stuck in his hand, but he didn't stop punching.
"Mr. Graham," David's voice came stern from behind him as if he was in trouble. Mr. Jefferson was no longer moving. Still holding onto his shirt, Warren turned around to look. Before he could say anything, David's features softened; so did his voice. He reached him, gently putting his hand on his shoulder. "Go and check on Max, make sure she is okay."
Hearing David's words, Warren nodded. He looked at Mr. Jefferson; he was still breathing, but didn't seem to be moving. his face was red and already bruising. Warren didn't feel bad for doing it though, feeling as though the man deserved it; although his hands were starting to hurt again now. Letting go of the man's shirt, Warren rushed to Max's side. He carefully picked her up, holding her head against his chest. "It's okay, Max...I am here. You are going to be okay," he whispered, gently rubbing her arm with one of his hands. Tears stung the boy's eyes as he held her limp body close to his. Leaning in, he pressed his lips softly to her forehead. "Please be okay, you have to be," he whispered softer than before. These words more for himself, as if a prayer.
Behind them, David was calling 911. However, his eyes never left Mr. Jefferson, making sure that he stayed down. So far, he had not moved.
