Chapter Ninety-Nine

John glanced at his watch, tugging on Thomas's sleeve to get his attention. He wrote a few words in his notebook, showing him what he'd interrupted his nap for. "I have to turn in my application you helped me with."

Thomas nodded, tapping Clarissa's shoulder. "I'm taking John to drop off his application at the mechanic shop, we'll be back in a little bit."

She smiled, watching John stand and slip his backpack on. "Look out for him." She patted her husband on the back, making sure John understood she was talking to him. "Tommy tends to find trouble wherever he goes."

John smiled, breathing like he wanted to laugh.

Thomas chuckled, walking with John out the door. "Should we get a taxi?" He asked, noticing how John was suppressing his limp.

John shook his head, aching to speak so he could tell him that he needed the fresh air. He was so used to spending hours and even days at a time out of the house, that he'd noticed he'd become more agitated since he was being cooped up inside while he recovered. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, making sure to keep Thomas where he could see him and where he felt he was safe.

Thomas noticed how John kept him between himself and the street, his chest swelling with pride and joy that the kid saw him as someone to protect and knowing that was how John showed his love. "John, Clarissa told me about what happened at school today."

John ducked his head, veering away from a group of men in business suits as they passed him on the sidewalk.

"She told me that you've got detention on Saturday, with Tobias Abby. And that you said you saw your father when you were fighting him…"

John lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting Thomas's with the realization of what he was asking. He pulled out his notebook, jotting down what he'd seen as he was in the middle of the fight. "I remembered my old man beating the shit out of me as a kid… Toby tried to grab my neck and that's when I lost it. It was like I could feel that damn bike chain around my throat again."

Thomas nodded, his eyes drifting the scarring around the kid's neck, remembering the first time he'd seen John in the hospital and how his throat had been black and blue from the pressure of the chain. "How old were you when he first used it?"

John shrugged, holding up seven fingers as they walked.

"Seven?" Thomas's eyes widened at the fact John had just revealed about his childhood.

John nodded, jotting a few words down on the paper. "Jacob figured out that I wasn't responding to the beatings as much as he wanted, so he started using the chain to make his message clearer. I'm not sure why I didn't respond as much, but I guess I always had a high pain tolerance or something."

Thomas remembered what Clarissa had told him about John's side being branded with his last name. "I know that you're the toughest kid I've ever met." He smiled at the little smirk on John's face, noticing that his skin was returning to his normal bright complexion and that the dullness was giving way to his natural tone. "You're looking healthier." He stated, noticing that John had even started to put on some weight in the last few weeks.

John shrugged, touching his ribs as if he was saying he still felt too thin.

"You're getting it back though. That must mean something to you." He paused as John's behavior changed, noticing that he became defensive suddenly. "What is it?" He asked, following John's line of sight to see a group of gangsters across the street. "John, it's fine. They won't bother us if we don't bother them." That was when he smelled it, the skunky scent of marijuana. He looked at John's eyes, recognizing the look of want in them. "John…" He touched John's shoulder, trying to give him the support he needed. "You're okay."

John nodded, fighting the voice in his head telling him to find their dealer.