Chapter Fifty-Four.
John curled around Amelia, taking every blow for himself. He hugged her head to his chest, biting his tongue to keep from crying out. He would not let this child feel what he had. He would not let them touch her. If he died protecting her, so be it. But he would not fuck up again. For once in his life, he would do something right.
Joe Silverman grabbed the back of John's hair, laughing at his grimace. "What's wrong you little fuck up?" He dragged a knife that he'd laced with meth across John's hairline, spitting in his eyes. "To scared to tell the cops about our son?"
John covered Amelia's ears, not wanting her to hear anything that was happening. He fought as the drug seeped into his system, he would not let the addiction win. He would not let that happen. He felt the blade hovering over his eyebrow, bracing himself for another forced hit of who knew what.
"John…" Amelia whimpered, clutching at his shirt like a lifeline. "I'm scared-"
He pushed a hand over her mouth, knowing that was what they wanted. They wanted them to be scared, they wanted them to scream, to cry, to bleed; but John would make sure that they never laid a hand on Amelia.
He closed his eyes tighter as the knife bit into his face, the cut coming slowly and allowing blood to seep into his eyes. He tasted blood, and knew instantly that he'd bitten through his own tongue. His shirt was ripped at the back, sending dread though his body. He could feel the affects of the drug on the knife already, his muscles starting to twitch in pleasure at the high. He exhaled through his nose, fighting the drug with every inch of him. He couldn't go down like this, not this way, not ever.
Something pressed into his back, the sharp prick of a needle. "Come on Johnny, give us the girl so we can get our money." Rachel whispered in his ear, pushing the needle deeper into his muscles. "We promise she won't get hurt."
He heard the sound of a belt clearing beltloops, his head spinning from the drugs in his bloodstream. "Maybe we should try to hear that pretty voice of his." Joe pushed his wife away, raising the belt like a whip.
That's when John heard it, the wail of a police siren. He knew he'd only have one shot, so he twisted, launching himself toward their captors, grabbing them both and pinning them to the floor. "Amelia, get that rope!" He jabbed his knee into Joe's back, forcing him down. "Now!" He hated to do that to a little kid, but he couldn't let them go. He couldn't let them get off with what they did.
Amelia handed him the rope, tears streaming down her face when she finally saw the state John was in. "I'm… I'm scared!" She wailed, running to the corner as the door was busted down by the cops battering ram.
John rolled off of his tormentors, letting the cops finish what he'd started. He reached a hand out to Amelia, holding her close to his body, his lips close to her ear as he whispered comforting words into her mind. "What's your favorite story?" He asked, letting her tears soak his torn clothes. "Is it Rapunzel?" She shook her head, her fingernails digging into the bare skin of his shoulders. "Cinderella?" Another shake of the head. "Okay, how about the story of the Brave Princess Amelia, who saved her knight from being hurt."
She nodded, her sobs lessoning for a moment. "That one."
John grit his teeth, the drugs beginning to take full effect. He took a breath, fighting the haze in his mind. "Once, there was a brave princess, whose name was Amelia." He swallowed the blood in his mouth, his vision fading at the edges. "And she was the bravest in all the land, even braver than her favorite knight, Sir Johnathan Mess-up." He heard something move to his left, instinctively hugging the child closer. "There came to her kingdom, an evil king and queen. She saw that her knight could not face them alone, so she helped, drawing her sword to cut down the evil in her kingdom." He felt hands on his back, lashing out at the person who'd gotten too close, his brain so drug addled that he didn't realize it was Brian. He pushed Brian to the ground, snarling as his hand found a broken shard of glass. "Back off."
Hands wrapped around his arms, forcing him off of the threat. "John." Thomas spoke into the boy's ear, knowing that he was responding out of his natural fight reflex. "John, it's just us." That's when he noticed John the syringe needle that had broken off at the plastic attachment point in his back. He met Mr. Johnson's eyes, knowing that this truth would be hard for them all. "He was drugged."
Mrs. Johnson rushed to her child, scooping her into her arms as she cried. "It's okay baby. Everything's going to be okay. It's all going to be fine." She soothed.
Claire stepped toward John, gasping at the blood dripping down his face. "John!"
"Stay back Claire." Her father warned, raising a brow at her. "He was drugged, and he's scared. I don't need you getting hurt too." He stepped with Paul out the door, handing the boy off to the paramedics as soon as they could.
John did everything in his power to escape their grip, but was useless in his drugged state.
Brian watched as they loaded both John and his little sister into ambulances, taking in the blood on Bender's body and face, and the unscathed skin of his sister. "He took it all…" He gaped, watching as they sped away with their families loading into their own vehicles to follow. He ran toward the Standish car, sliding into the seat beside Claire. "He took it all for her…"
Claire nodded, turning to him so she could cry on his shoulder. "Please Lord don't let him die." She sobbed, as Brian rubbed her back. "Please…"
