Chapter One-Hundred and Eighty-One

John tightened his tie around his neck, fixing his lapel as he looked in the mirror of his room. It'd been nearly three days since his treatments at the rehab center had ended, and so far he'd been doing good with staying sober. Though, he wasn't sure how he would do after he was forced to see the men who'd raped him.

Claire rubbed her hands over his shoulders, pinching his muscles in an attempt to relax them. "It'll be okay." She whispered, kissing the hollow behind his ear as she brushed his hair back to the nape of his neck.

He breathed a laugh, turning and wrapping his hands around her back. "I love you, Sweets." He kissed her lips, his movements slow and gentle at first, but soon turning hungry for her. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, letting her playfully fight him for dominance. He closed his teeth over her tongue, gently suckling on it as she closed her lips over his. He moaned as she pushed farther into him, his pants starting to feel uncomfortable as her hands slipped into his back pockets.

She smiled, able to feel his hard against her hips. "John. Stop it."

He looked down at his hips, picking up a pillow to hide the bulge. "I can't control it, Babe." He sighed, sitting on his bed. "I couldn't control that I got a woody when the gang was going down on me, and I can't control it when you kiss me like that."

She sighed, feeling his hands slowly travel down her body and his fingers grip her thighs. "I wish you didn't have to go to court again." She mumbled as he lifted her onto his hips, she pushed his hair behind his ears, looking into his eyes that were the perfect match to dark chocolate.

He nodded, kissing her collarbone as he sat on his bed. "I'll be okay." He smiled, closing his eyes as she rubbed her fingers through his hair. "Promise."

She smiled, trying to force the memory of his seizures away. "I'm just afraid that you'll have an attack."

He chuckled, holding her hand over his heart. "I won't."

John's muscles tensed as the first of the gang members walked into the court room, his hands balling into fists at the memory of what he'd done to him. "That's Thunder Thighs." He whispered, pointing to the little notes on his notepad that he'd made to help him keep everything straight. "He's the one that tied me up, and made sure I was spread-eagle." He swallowed at the memory, scratching behind Chance's ears to distract from the return of the pain he'd felt.

Thomas reached a hand out toward John, waiting for him to give the okay for contact. "Do you remember what he said to you?" He asked, hating that he had to push for these things.

John nodded, forcing the words from his mouth. "'Suck my dick you fucking faggot slut.'" He shuddered with the taste of the words. "When I tried to refuse… he… he grabbed me and pulled so hard that I thought it would pop off."

Thomas dropped his gaze, able to see the fight inside of John. "Sicko." He nodded to another one, noticing that he had a long, hooked nose. "And that one?" He asked, listening to John's breath change.

"That's Buzzard." He stated, remembering the man's rough hands grabbing at his body. "His thing is control. He likes to control everything you do and say." He remembered how Buzzard had caused pain with every refusal, but rewarded with pleasure at every agreement. "He'll crush your balls if you don't let him, but if you say yes, he'll either give you a second, or he'll find something that feels okay." John remembered the words they'd used to describe themselves. "He's a dominant. He uses reward and punishment as tools in his arsenal."

Thomas nodded, reaching toward John as he began to slip into a memory. "Hey, stay with me son." He soothed, smiling as John's dark eyes focused on him again. "Just relax. We'll get through this."

John swallowed, giving a short bob of his head as the judge slammed her gavel down on the stand. "Court is now in session, the case is that of Johnathan Bender, verses, the Dead Cross Gang on the charges of gang rape."