Chapter Three-Hundred and Eleven

John listened to the arguments inside of Thomas's office, able to hear the small cries of the girl who'd been attacked at his concert. Finally, after what seemed like forever to him, he couldn't take it anymore. He pushed the door open, taking a seat beside the women in the office. "What did the guy look like?" He asked, the image of Ben so strong that he could see every line in his face.

The girl's eyes widened, hardly able to believe that John Bender was sitting next to her. "He was tall, dark hair, kind of fat… and he had these two little scars on his lips like he was bitten by something."

John nodded, running his tongue over his canine teeth. "He was bitten by me." He huffed a breath, preparing himself to tell these strangers what he'd lived through. "His name's Ben Rife. He's an escaped child molester and kidnapper. He used to be a prison cook, and escaped with my dirtbag father, Jacob Bender, back in late November last year."

The mother's mouth fell open, surprise showing on her face. "So how did you bite his lips?" She asked, not seeing the pain behind his eyes.

Thomas watched John with careful consideration, listening intently to John as he spoke of his time in Mexico. He was ready to jump to John's side if anything should happen, such as a flashback or an anxiety attack.

"Ben forced me to kiss him when Jacob was busy raping my mother." He could still taste the copper tang on Ben's blood on his tongue, shuddering at the memory of Beverly's screams. "That was right before I was forced into an illegal fighting ring and was put up against six men who were bigger than I was. And that was after I'd been starved for three days." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "After that, something happened that pissed Jacob off and he tied me to the laundry polls outside of our hideout, where he whipped me into unconsciousness."

The girl bit her lip, noticing the scarring around his throat, and wrists. "How did you escape?"

John shook his head, the memories too fuzzy to remember it all. "All I remember is being shot and the next thing I knew I was in the States again."

The mother scoffed, turning back to Thomas. "You expect this sob story to fix what happened to my daughter?"

John lifted his head, placing his hand on the desk. "Nothing can fix it!" He snapped, turning to look at the girl. "I should know… I was raped too."

"How can a boy be raped?" She asked incredulously, crossing her arms.

"There's such a thing as gay rape." John stated, the feeling of a dick down his throat returning with the thought. "Your daughter was lucky to only take one. I took six." He took a shaky breath. "Listen, I'm sorry that you had to live through this. But there's nothing that can change it. All I can say, is that if you were a virgin before this happened, you still are. It doesn't count unless it's consensual." He offered his hand to the girl, knowing better that to get too close to her. "Even seeing them behind bars won't take the pain away."

She wiped a tear from her cheek, leaning forward to let John hug her. "Thank you…" She whispered, feeling safe for the first time since the concert.

"For what?"

"For being so nice to me." She wiped her nose on her wrist, taking the old bandanna from him as he offered it to her.