Just a quick note to let everyone know this Chapter was written by firebunee..

After you are finish reading AND reviewing please check out firebunee's other stories they are wonderful..

Thank you and enjoy

Chapter 2

Johnny felt cold when he finally opened his eyes. His head was pounding and sore, his body was welted and bruised all across his back and chest. He slowly reached out his stiff fingers and one at a time flexed them as if making sure they were still attached. He groaned rather loudly as he used the little bit of strength he could muster to push himself up into a sitting position. He slowly let his right hand navigate along the contours of his face until he felt a slick spot on his forehead. He deliberately pulled his fingers down and squinted, focusing his eyes on the dark liquid from his head.

Blood.

He slowly looked around at the darkened room. He noted the piece broken off of the heater where his head must have collided with the surface when he passed out. He licked his lips as he looked past the mold spotted wall and into the cluttered living room. He could see the lights bouncing off of the wall from the black and white television set. He was sure that his father had passed out in the chair in front of the tube. He wondered to himself what had happened to make his father snap on him the way he had.

Peter Cade had always used Johnny as a sort of punching bag. His son had never quite been a son. He was treated as little more of a tool for stress release. When he and his wife had fought, Johnny had taken the abuse from the fight. When Peter had had a rough day at the bar, drinking too much, Johnny had been the one to suffer the effects. When the old man had any sort of trouble at one of the numerous jobs he had held down, Johnny had been punished for it. Johnny had always been hardened to the abuse, but now, it was different. Peter had never beaten Johnny into unconsciousness before this. A crack of a two by four, or the full contact of a closed fist, it had never been like this. It was as if something had snapped in the old man. It was scaring Johnny half to death. He was now a prisoner in his own house. Johnny only hoped someone would come looking before he became more than just scared half to death.

--

Sylvia watched Dallas Winston walk through the front door of the bar. He was devastatingly handsome in his black leather and tattered blue jeans. He walked past the woman to a spot at the bar. He sat slowly down on the stool and stared at the mug that was set down in front of him. He sighed heavily as he heard the heals of her shoes hitting the wood on the floor before he felt her fingers snake across his neck and down the collar of his shirt.

"Hello, lover." She whispered.

Sylvia could feel the tension in Dallas as she ran the tips of her red painted fingers over his warm skin and then through his hair. She leaned into the man running her hot lips across his ears.

"What do you want, Sylvia?" Dallas bit back.

"I figured you might be a little lonely. I mean, your little friend isn't with you and…"

Dallas slowly turned on the bar stool. He found himself face to face with the young woman. Her hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She wore a blue painted on blouse. It clung to her skin like it had been colored there. Her skirt was even tighter hugging her curves in all the right and appealing ways. She was defiantly out to capture someone's attention. Dallas wasn't at all sure he wanted all of that fire tonight.

Dallas sighed heavily as Sylvia pushed herself between Dallas's legs. She then leaned over the man. She pushed her chest towards Dallas as if telling him that she was open for business.

"You know what. You… you look, real good tonight, Sylvia. But I just had a run in with…" Dallas let his eyes wonder over her. Her eyes pierced his soul, her lips begged to be kissed, and her body… soft and hard all at once. He wanted her in a bad way, but she was nothing but a hundred percent trouble.

"I could, I don't know, give you something to calm you down." She cooed.

Her perfume wafted over him as if it were an elixir catching him in its clutches. Dallas grasped the mug and slammed the beer down his gullet and then stood up. He looked coolly down at her, his eyes wondering over her ample breasts. He then wrapped his hand firmly around her teasing frame pulling her closer by her narrow waist. He then felt her hands run down his back. He didn't take any time feeling his way across her body. He turned her around and walked quickly towards the steps pushing her ahead of him the whole way.

This was turning out better for her than she had intended.

--

Ponyboy stood outside of the school until five minutes after the tardy bell rang. No sign of Johnny. He turned and walked into the school stopping in the doorway to turn and look across the vacant grass. He was hoping that Johnny was just running late for school. His friend was not a great student, but at least he came to school. It wasn't like Johnny to just up and skip without first telling Pony so that they could make plans together.

"Where's Johnny today?" Two Bit asked as Ponyboy walked home from school alone.

"Don't know." Pony responded looking off in the distance. "He never misses without letting me know."

"You don't think he, I don't know, ran into trouble on the way home last night?" Two Bit ran his fingers nervously through his hair.

"I don't know. Maybe we can walk past his house, see if he's there or something." Ponyboy squinted looking over at his friend.

"Let's walk by the lot, maybe he could be there." Two Bit interjected.

--

Johnny shook tensely as he carried the stack of laundry from the bathroom to the front door. His nerves were almost shot. His chest and back still burned from the beating he had sustained the previous evening, and his head was pounding even worse than before. He had been working since his father had pulled him out of the bed by his hair. There had been no breaks for him either. No food, no water, nothing. He had been forced up against the wall once for not hearing his father call for another beer. Johnny shuddered at the thought of what was going to happen when there were no longer any beers in the refrigerator for the man.

The beating on the door caused Johnny to jump and drop every bit of what he had been carrying. He looked at the door. He knew who was standing on the other side of it. It was Ponyboy wondering where he had been today. Johnny turned his attention to his father who stumbled out of the living room and to the door. Peter stopped in the frame and looked over at the youth. He slowly smirked as he looked down his nose at his son.

"Jonathon…"

The word was cold, and terrifying to him. Johnny wanted to fight back but his whole body shook at the sound of his own name. Johnny's breath hitched in his chest as he looked back at his father. The pounding on the door came again. Johnny's dark eyes pleaded with the man.

"Get in there…" Peter pointed towards the kitchen. It was out of the sight of anyone at the door. He could use this as a way to toy with his prey. "You know what to do; I'll deal with you in a minute… Jonathon."

Johnny looked at the door. His shot at freedom was on the other side of that opening. His best friend was out there and he was about to take yet another beating for something. His lips quivered as he looked at his father. His face continued to carry the mark of another days beating.

"Now!" Peter shouted in a forceful whisper. He then shoved Johnny forward towards the kitchen.

Johnny heard the door open as he stood in the kitchen, his hands against the wall. He could feel his stomach fall as he heard Ponyboy.

"Mr. Cade, I know Johnny's here."

"You don't know anything, young man. Now, get off of my property and don't come back."

--

Johnny jumped as he heard the door slam. It felt like forever as he waited for his father to come into the room. He could feel the perspiration dripping from his throbbing head. He could feel it as it slid down his cold clammy skin. His heart pumped rapidly as he waited for his father.

It wasn't long before the man had made his way into the kitchen. Johnny heard a drawer open. He heard the wrestling of metal against metal in a drawer. Johnny was terrified at what his father was digging for.

"You defied me, boy."

"Please, da…"

Johnny yelped as his father had him by the hair and his face shoved tightly against the wall. He gritted his teeth and clamped his eyes shut as he struggled against the weight of the man pushing against him.

"You talk back one more time, and I'll make you remember this day for the rest of your life."

His head was spinning when his father finally let go. The first crack of what ever his father had fell ruthlessly against his spine. The boy screamed and dropped to his knees clawing at the wall. His hands shook as his dirty fingernails ripped at the torn wall paper. He then felt another hit from the metal soup ladle as it landed viscously against his ribs. He bit his lip as his father threatened him if he made another noise. He closed his eyes to the blinding pain. He tasted the blood from his lip as it trickled across his teeth and danced on the tip of his tongue. He suffered the world as it finally spun out of control; there was another pop and then a crack, and then, darkness.

Peter Cade stared down at his son. The boy was bleeding from his lip and his face was black and blue along the right side of his temple and across jaw line. His ribs and back were blotchy with crimson and violet hues. He squinted as he threw the ladle at the kid. The metal utensil bounced from his body and then onto the floor. Peter Cade turned and walked from the kitchen taking with him his precious beer. He licked his lips as he thought about his meeting tomorrow with Sylvia. He could feel himself becoming aroused at the thought of her perfect, svelte body pressed against his. He thought to himself about how he was going to get rid of the boy for the evening while she was over. This was going to be better than he desired.