Chapter Forty-Nine

John rested his head on his arms, listening to Thomas chew on his meatloaf sandwich. "Can you be any louder?" He groaned, trying to ignore the smell of the food and settle his stomach.

Thomas pushed John's peanut-butter and jelly toward him, as another attempt to get the kid to eat. "If you would eat, maybe you wouldn't be so annoyed." He smiled as John lifted his head to glare at him, unfazed by his cutting gaze. "Eat." He stated, tapping the table beside John's sandwich.

John shook his head, pushing the food back toward Thomas's arm. "Not hungry." He stated, resting his chin on his fist.

Thomas sighed, knowing that the kid hadn't eaten anything in the last thirteen hours since the night before when he'd gone to bed. "You're gonna get sick if you don't eat." He stated, taking another bite of his sandwich and following it with a drink of his coke.

John shrugged, tracing his finger through some crumbs on the table. "I'm already sick." He mumbled, pushing the sandwich away again. "I don't want it." He growled, getting tired of fighting Thomas on the matter of food.

"John." Thomas spoke in a tone that only a true father could use. "Eat."

John looked up at him, defiance in his eyes. "No."

"Johnathan. Eat Goddamn it." He pushed the food toward John again, refusing to take no for an answer.

"No." John stated, pressing a hand to his stomach as an attempt to calm it.

"John! Eat the damn-" Thomas was cut off as John rushed to the nearest trashcan, his face paling as John retched into the bin. He watched as the kid spit the yellow bile into the can, wishing that he'd picked up on John's queasiness sooner.

John went to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, pausing when Thomas handed him a handkerchief. He took the cloth, wiping his mouth with it before spitting the last of the excess saliva into the garbage. "Thanks." He coughed, letting Thomas rub his back as he focused on his breath. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"What for?" Thomas asked, squeezing the base of John's neck like he used to do with Claire and her brother when they were young.

John shook his hand off, looking up at the older man hoping to convey his honesty. "I should have just told you I don't feel good."

Thomas nodded, placing John's blazer on his shoulders. "Why don't we take a walk? See if that'll settle your stomach." He smiled as John nodded, patting the taller boy on the back as they left the room. "Hopefully we can figure out how to settle your stomach so you can eat." He patted John's stomach, giving a sad smile at how thin the boy was. "Maybe we can get you to pack on some fat there."

John chuckled, lifting his gaze as he noticed something down the hall from them. "Is that Kemp?" He asked, noticing that he was talking to a young, plump woman who was wearing a huge diamond ring.

Thomas nodded, noticing that John's limp had suddenly become worst than normal. "Is your leg hurting you?" He asked, his brow furrowing as John's step returned to his normal pattern in a matter of seconds.

John shook his head, keeping an eye on Kemp. "He has hair plugs." He stated, looking back to Thomas. "He's been married for at least a year, but the plugs are new."

Thomas looked at the kid, wondering what was going through that puzzle piecing mind of his. "What're you getting at?"

John stopped, leaning against the wall. "When a woman, who's been happily married for some time, finds another man she wants to impress, but doesn't want to get a divorce, she will often get breast implants." He raised a brow. "Men, will do the same thing, but with a toupee, or hair plugs." He nodded to Kemp. "My guess, is he's cheating on his wife."

Thomas tilted his head, wondering how the kid could piece things like that together. "What if he isn't?"

John popped his knuckles on his good hand, cocking a brow as Kemp kissed his wife goodbye before disappearing into one of the offices, followed a few minutes later by a leggy blonde. "If he isn't I'll be a horse's ass." He started down the hallway, walking on silent feet as he slid his back against the wall. "I'll bet you that they're banging each other on some poor slob's desk."

Thomas chuckled, following John's lead -though not quite as silently as John. "Why are you so obscene?" He asked, noticing how John slowly peaked over the window in the door, his dark eyes widening like a curious puppy sniffing something new out.

John shushed him, ducking down and pressing his ear to the door. "Yep, they're fucking on the desk."

"Johnathan Kurtis Bender." Thomas scolded, trying to not laugh at John's expression of disgust. "What's wrong?"

John jerked away from the door, his lip curling as he backed away from it. "I think that they're killing a goat in there."

Thomas shook his head, pulling John back toward their meeting room. "Honestly, I don't want to hear it."

John smirked, trying to recreate the noise.

"Johnathan Kurtis!" Thomas scolded, covering his mouth to stop John from making the awful sound. "Knock it off."

John laughed, shoving Thomas away from him. "Just gathering evidence."

"That is evidence I didn't need to hear." Thomas handed him a water bottle, smiling as John happily drank the liquid. "And I don't want to hear it ever again."

"Sure thing, Dad." He chuckled, standing as the warning bell for court to be back in session rang. "I don't want to hear that shit again either."