Chapter One-Hundred and Fifty
John sat at the counter as Amelia lathered antibacterial soap over his tattoo, wincing as the friction of her skin against his irritated it.
"The soap's turning black…" She stated, watching him pick up a paper towel and wipe the suds away.
He nodded, picking up the container of coconut scented body butter that they'd raided from Claire's bathroom stuff. "That's alright. Dom said the ink would bleed out a little." He smeared the lotion over his skin, looking up as Claire's laugh reached his ears. "Hey Sweets." He smiled, helping Amelia as she tried to cover his tattoo again.
She shook her head, noticing that his skin was beginning to return to its healthy tan. His eyes were still surrounded by dark circles and the whites were still slightly off colored, but he was slowly starting to get better. She looked at the tattoo, gently touching it and jumping away when he flinched. "Sorry-" She started, stopping when she saw his goofy grin that always appeared when he was messing with someone. "You asshole!" She playfully hit his shoulder, giggling as he pulled her onto his lap. "I thought I hurt you."
He chuckled, kissing her tenderly as he pushed his hands into her fiery hair. He parted his lips, letting her slide her tongue into his mouth. He moaned, the sound vibrating deep in his chest as her hand pressed over his heart. He nipped at her lips, pleased at the gasp of pleasure from her. He stood from his seat, moving her so that her legs were straddling his hips walking to the living room. He laid her back against the sofa cushions, smirking as her ankles locked behind his hips. He felt her move against him, pulling away as he realized he couldn't let anyone touch him yet. The memory of the six thugs touching him and forcing him to take them was still too fresh in his mind. "No." He rasped, closing his eyes against the memory.
Claire sat up, releasing his hips from between her legs. "You alright?" She asked, noticing how his hands began to shake. "John?"
"No." He choked, fighting back the tears as the image of the thugs tying his hands behind his back and securing his legs so that he was spread eagle began to surface. "I'm not."
Claire scooted closer, placing her hand on his arm and turning his head to look at her. "Talk to me." She looked into his dark eyes, praying that she could somehow help him. "You need to talk. If not with me, then with a therapist. You can't go through life like this. With this horrible guilt building behind that wall you keep." She brushed her fingers over a long-faded scar on his jaw, able to see the dying spark behind his eyes. "If you keep bottling it all up… then… I can't be with you. You're too explosive when you hide your emotions. And I can't marry someone like that."
He nodded, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch. "I'm not worthy of you…" He started, letting the last few bricks in his wall crumble. "I just want to give you what you deserve." He heaved a breath, placing his hand over the top of hers. "I… I feel like… like I'm filthy. Like… no matter what I do, I'll always be dirty. Like their cum will never be washed from my body."
She pulled him close, remembering the little that Allison had told her about finding John. "You are what so much more than what happened to you." She whispered, nipping at his earlobe as he tilted his head to allow her close to his neck. "And I will always love you, no matter what." She breathed, her breath fanning over his jawline as she began kissing him.