Jonathan stared at the door, half expecting the woman to walk back inside at any given moment. After a short while had passed he locked the door and sat down on the bed. He grabbed his wallet and pulled out the picture of him and Sandy. He glared at the picture in his hands. "What you used to be…" he said. "You're not anymore… When did you become such a haughty little bitch, Sandy? Thinking that you could just take anything that you wanted? You don't deserve a family, Sandy… Not even this fucked up one. You don't deserve the money. Dirty, dirty money that not even I would touch. And you most certainly don't deserve to be loved… Not by anyone!!! You wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for me!" he growled.

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"Well, well, well… If it isn't Sandy Foster…" a voice called out from behind him. A voice that he recognized instantly.

"What do you want, Jim?" Sandy asked, turning to face his classmate.

"I think that the better question would be what do you want?"

"I wanna get outta here…" Sandy said. "There's somewhere I need to be…"

Jim laughed. "Where? At home to baby-sit your psycho mother? Or over to your boyfriend's house to suck his cock?"

"Not that it's any of your business…" Sandy growled. "But I don't have a boyfriend…"

"No, but you want one… Don't you Sandy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"So what if I do?" Sandy said. "Explain to me again how that affects you…"

"It affects me when I have to get dressed in the locker room with you… It affects me when I can feel your eyes leering at me…" Jim said, throwing his backpack onto the ground in case he felt the need to throw a punch.

Sandy mirrored his move, throwing his backpack onto the ground and balling his fists defensively. "If I was staring…" he said. "I apologize… But don't worry… I'm not gonna make a pass at you… I only stared out of a morbid curiosity… Believe me… For me to want a guy… He'd have to have something that I could actually feel going in…"

Jim was completely incensed, and before Sandy could react, Jim punched him in the face and had him pushed up against the brick wall. He glared at him, without a word.

Sandy glared with equal intensity. He could feel the blood trickling down his lip.

"You know…" Jim said. "I could kill you if I wanted to…"

"Go ahead and try…" Sandy said, before spitting the blood onto Jim's face.

"FUCKING FAGGOT!" Jim yelled, pulling back to wipe the blood from his face.

This was it. Fight or flight. No. Just fight. Sandy threw a punch at Jim's face and managed to hit him in the nose.

Jim stepped back for a moment, but quickly recovered. He punched Sandy in the stomach and took advantage of his momentary breathlessness to push him back up against the wall, this time facing against it. He pushed all of his body weight against Sandy to keep him trapped there. "You made a big mistake there, Sandy boy…" he growled.

Sandy struggled against him, but couldn't pull away.

Jim pulled a knife out of his pocket. "Do you know what I'm gonna do to you now, Sandy?" He asked. "No. Not that. Not that, because that's what you want. Not that, because that would make me as sick and disgusting as you are. No, Sandy. I'm gonna do something much, much worse." He pressed the knife against Sandy's neck. "I'm gonna slit your throat, Sandy… I'm gonna perform the duty that the good Lord tells me to in His Word… I'm gonna send you straight to hell… Because that's exactly where you belong…"

Sandy found himself frozen with fear. And then he heard the sound of a gun cocking.

"You'll be doing no such thing…" Another voice, just as familiar.

Now Jim was the one frozen in fear.

"Drop the knife…"

Jim dropped the knife.

"Good, now back away from him…"

Jim did as he was told, grabbed his backpack, and ran off into the distance as quickly as he could.

"He's gone, Sandy… You're safe now…"

Sandy turned to face the guy who'd saved his life. "Jonathan…" he said, falling into his arms.

"It's OK…" Jonathan said. "I have a feeling the Bible-thumper won't be bothering you ever again…"

"If you wouldn't've been here…" Sandy started.

"But I am here…" Jonathan said, wiping away the few tears that Sandy had shed. "I am here…"

"You saved my life…" Sandy said.

"Yes…" Jonathan said. "But before you go telling me how wonderful I am, keep in mind that I had very selfish motives for doing so…"

Sandy looked up into his eyes. "What… Motives…" he asked, almost hesitantly.

"I see the way you look at me in class… In the locker room… But I always wondered why you've never approached me…"

"I've seen you…" Sandy said. "With girls… I mean… I just figured…"

Jonathan chuckled slightly. "Not everyone is as simple as that, Sandy…" he said. "Just because somebody goes one way, doesn't mean they don't go the other…"

"So…" Sandy said. "You saved my life… To get into my pants…"

"I saved your life, because I want you alive…" he said. "And if that eventually entails getting into your pants… Well… I certainly wouldn't turn you down…"

Sandy smiled softly, but didn't say anything.

"Now come on…" Jonathan said. "Let me take you home…"

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"I saved your life…" Jonathan growled. "And when it came time for you to return the favor you couldn't do it. You let me fall. And then you left me there to die… You didn't look for me… You didn't even call for help… You abandoned me, just like they did. But you're worse. Because you said you loved me. And you know that I loved you. Even if I could never say it. But now… I hate you… I hate you more than I've ever hated anyone or anything. And I promise you, Sandy. When I strike… Nobody, and I mean nobody… Is going to be there to save you…"