Chapter Three-Hundred and Twenty-Six
Clarissa bit her lip as Ryan changed the bandage on John's waist, looking away when he picked up a pair of tweezers and motioned for Thomas to hold John still while he picked a few glass shards out of the wound.
"Fuck…" John hissed, dropping his head against Thomas's shoulders and biting the skin on his wrist.
Carl pulled John's arm down, offering a wadded-up piece of t-shirt to him. "Here, bite this." He smiled when John bit down on the fabric, patting the back of his head as he gave a muffled scream through the shirt. He picked up a rag from Ryan's medical kit, wiping the blood away from the cut as the doctor picked out the few bits of glass and rocks that he'd missed yesterday. "Can't you give him something?" He asked, the sight of seeing John in pain causing his heart to ache.
Ryan shook his head, hands steady as he removed another bit of foreign debris from John's skin. "What I have with us wouldn't be enough." He blotted the blood away from the teen's skin, dabbing a little bit of disinfecting cream over it before he wrapped him back up.
Thomas started to moved John away from his body, pausing when John's hands gripped at his shirt. "Do you want me to stay?" He asked, smiling slightly when John nodded. "Okay."
Justin watched as John limped out of the tour bus, cocking a brow when he caught the flash of yellow in his eyes. "So why were you in foster care?" He asked as soon as John took a seat, hardly giving him the chance to get comfortable.
John lifted his tired eyes to Justin's, heaving a sigh with the memory. "Jacob was —is— a psychopath. He abused me for seventeen years of my life, and nearly killed me at least twenty times." He took a drink of water, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I swore I would die before now… but… I'm here because I ended up in the foster system about a year ago, after Jacob broke my ribs, nose, and choked me with a bike chain until I lost consciousness. Claire, Andy, and Brian found me in the park and hauled me to the hospital."
Justin's gaze softened slightly, looking John's body over where pale scars laced over his chest, shoulders, biceps, and forearms. "So, he wasn't just a rapist?"
John shook his head, swallowing as his stomach twisted. "No. He was a wife-beater, child abuser, thief, rapist, gangster, gangbanger, and everything in-between." John pushed himself away from the table, stumbling to the back of the bus with a hand pressed over his mouth.
Justin listened as John retched, suddenly realizing what he'd come from, what he could have been, and what his biological father had been. His heart ached with what Jacob had put John through, what had happened to his little brother. "Damn…" He whispered, dropping his gaze as Claire and the boy he'd learned was named Brian rushed to John's aid.
Asher sighed, taking a seat across from the young man. "My brother was never quite right in the head. But I can assure you, John is not his father —your father." He closed his eyes as the sound of John gagging reached his ears. "I've been where you are Justin… saying that you want justice —believing that's what you're trying to accomplish— but what you really want, is revenge." He thought back to when he was in his twenties, the hatred that burned inside of him. "It's time that you learn the difference." He pushed a knife toward the young man, letting him take hold of the hilt. "If you want justice, you'll let Jacob live his miserable life and become his own villain… if you want revenge, you'll take this knife, and turn that blade against John, Dominic, Jade, the quads, my wife and daughter, and everyone in this family." He let Justin take the knife. "But that's your choice to make."
Justin turned the blade over in his hand as if considering what Asher had said. "Tell me about him." He stated, setting the knife to the side. "I want to know more."