TW: There is a lot in this chapter that is really really heavy. First of all, there's a lot of swearing, more than usual. There is also a lot of verbal, emotional, and physical abuse at the end of this chapter! More than just hitting and shouting, there is some really intense stuff. If it is something that can cause you damage, mentally, emotionally, or physically, please be very very cautious. Your health is my priority. 

"Welcome to the Crackhead Wasteland," Sarah sighed as the van rattled along the dirt road.

"You'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy," you said, lowering your voice. You smiled at your reference. But when you got a few looks that told you that joking wasn't really appropriate, you dropped it, looking back at your hands.

"I don't know about this." Pope peered out the window. JJ didn't respond. You watched his hands tighten around the steering wheel, jaw shifting. He stopped the car in front of one of the many run-down trailers.

"Dude, why are we at Barry's?" John B asked. He sounded tired; tired of the blockades he kept hitting, tired of not getting what he wanted, tired of JJ's shit.

"This'll only take a second," JJ told him, popping open the car door.

"JJ..." He pretended not to hear you.

"Where are you going?" John B called out the window.

"Yo soy justicia," was all JJ said in response.

"Did you glean anything from that?" Pope asked John B, who rolled his eyes and opened his door.

"John B, do you want me-"

"It's alright, Elm. I got it."

You sat in the car with the others, letting out a deep breath. There had to be something you could do to help him, but you weren't sure what that was. John B and JJ had been best friends since they were children. What could you possibly do that John B couldn't?

You jumped out of the van when you heard shouting from inside.

"Elm, wait!" Sarah followed after you and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going any further. Pope and Kie climbed out after the two of you, standing just outside the house. "Let John B handle this."

"Handle what?" You snapped, spinning around. You pulled your wrist from her grip. In shock, Sarah took a step back. You turned away from them, tucking your hands underneath your arms.

"Alright," JJ said, walking out of the house as if nothing had happened. "We're looking at about 5 grand each. Reparations for putting us through that shit."

JJ tried to hand you the money, but you kept your hands back. He looked at you for a moment before scoffing and offering the money to Pope and Kie, who also didn't take it.

"So that's what we're doing now?" Kie asked. "Robbing drug dealers?"

JJ pressed his lips together.

"This Barry guy's gonna find out." There was a slight tremor in Sarah's voice as she spoke. "And he's going to come after us."

"Yes, he will," Pope confirmed, his voice a lot more steady than Sarah's. He turned to JJ. "Now's not the time to start wilin' out."

"How'd you like having a gun pulled on you?" JJ asked. He looked like an animal caught in the corner. Animals in corners had a habit of fighting, often forgetting the difference between friend and foe.

"Relax," John B said, stepping between JJ and Pope. You put your hands on the sides of your face, trying to push out the shaking before it even started. You could always handle your dad yelling. He was more like a yapping puppy to you now than anything. But listening to your friends shouting at each other? That was a new experience you didn't really enjoy.

"He had it right here on you, bro," JJ said, putting his fingers up to John B's head.

"Listen." John B was still trying to reason with him. "We've gotta go get the gold. Give me that shit."

He reached down to grab the bag with the money in it out of JJ's hand. Wrong move.

JJ lurched forward and shoved John B up against the side of the van. Sarah took a few hurried steps to go to John B's aid, but you grabbed her by the arms, holding her back. The only thing she would succeed in doing would be getting herself hurt.

"You feel like a tough guy, huh?" John B asked. "What are you gonna do when he comes for us? For Elm?"

JJ's lips twitched.

"We punch him," JJ said finally. "In the throat."

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes and letting your hands fall from Sarah's arms. JJ let John B go, though he didn't stand down.

"Yeah, good fucking idea, JJ," John B snapped.

"I'm not putting it back." JJ took the bag back from John B and stepped into the van. No one moved. You crossed your arms and looked away. "You guys coming or what?"

Sarah scratched the back of her head. Everyone else stared at JJ as he sat in the back of the van. He clenched his jaw, lips twitching. When he clambered back out of the van and placed his hands on his hips, you tried to avoid looking at him. He was wrong, you knew that, so why did it feel so much like you were betraying him?

"What?" JJ asked, looking around, his voice tight.

"We're sick of your shit," John B told him.

"Oh, my shit?"

"Yeah, your pulling guns on people shit," Kie added, stepping closer to him. There it was again, the animal backed into a corner.

"Guys, c'mon." You tried to step forward and provide at least some separation between JJ and the others, but Pope jumped in before you could.

"You acting like a maniac. That kind of shit," he said. JJ turned to him, eyes wide. That burning rage was gone and replaced by something else, something you couldn't really place.

"Okay, Pope, I took the fall for you, man!" JJ yelled. "You know how much I owe because of you?"

There was a moment of calm before Pope exploded.

"I'm gonna pay you back and I never asked you to do that!"

You tried not to flinch, but you couldn't help it.

"Pay it back then! Or do I have to do it by myself?" You could hear the hysteria in JJ's voice. He had so much on his plate already, it didn't help that his friends weren't backing him up. They were his family. His one good thing. It tore you apart to see them like this. "You know what? That's exactly what I'm gonna do. Go off by myself."

Pope stepped forward, calling his name.

"Hey, man, wait," John B said, grabbing Pope by the arm.

"Just let him go," Sarah said from the back of the group.

"Fuck that," you snapped, pushing past Kie and following after JJ. "Hey, Maybank, stop!"

He didn't turn around. You jogged to catch up with him, but he still wouldn't look at you. You ran up to him and put a hand on his arm.

"What?" he whirled around to face you. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you," you said, pinching your eyebrows together.

"Some great help you were back there," he huffed, fixing the bag on his shoulder.

"What did you want me to do?" You asked, voice rising. "Cause I'll do it. I'll march right back up to them and say 'take the damn drug money' if that's what you want me to do, JJ!"

"That's not what I want."

You put your hands up to your face, hands trembling as you pressed the heels of your palms against your forehead.

"JJ, just put the money back," you said. "I'll pay for your restitution...."

"Ellie, no."

"...we'll get the rest of the gold..."

"Ellie."

"...and we'll figure out a way to get all the money we're owed..."

"Stop."

"...just please, put the money back."

"Ellie, would you listen to me?" JJ threw his backpack on the ground. You startled, taking a half a step back. "I don't need your help paying for restitution, okay? Cause I know what will happen if you ask for money from your dad."

You shook your head, crossing your arms slowly.

"I'll make something up. I'll lie. That's what I'm good at," you told him.

"You're not going back there, Ellie," he said. "You know what will happen if you do."

"I don't care." You shook your head. "If it means you put that money back, I'll go home to my dad and ask him for the 25k. No problem. Easy peasy."
"You're not getting yourself killed for me!"

"I don't care what happens to me because I love you, alright?" He was taken aback by your words, but this time, you didn't care. "And I know that word scares you but it's true and I'm not going to stand by and let you get yourself killed over drug money."

He was quiet for a moment, watching you with narrowed eyes as you breathed heavily, shaking your hands.

"Please," you begged. "Let me help you."

"I'm taking this money," he said. "And I'm going home."

With that, he turned and started to walk away.

"Home?" You called after him, not moving from your spot. "And where is that exactly? Huh?"

He still didn't say anything, but he froze for a moment. After the moment passed, he shifted the backpack on his shoulder and walked away again.

You clenched your jaw, considering calling after him. But you had more dignity than that. You weren't going to scream until your throat was dry, not for him. Not for anyone. If he didn't want your help, fine.

"Fuck you," you said quietly, voice breaking as a sudden wave of emotion hit you. When you turned around to walk back to the others, you realized that they had driven away without you. "Well, fuck you, too then."

***

It had taken you more than three hours to walk back to the decent part of the cut and still, you felt eyes staring you down. The cut barely had any normal streets and trying to navigate it without someone who knew where they were going was nearly impossible. You felt cold, even though the sun glared down on you from above. A strong part of you wanted to tear JJ's shirt off of you, even if it meant you walked around half naked, as long as you didn't have to be surrounded by his smell, constantly reminded of your argument.

But that's all it was, right? Just an argument? Everyone fought every now and again. You couldn't expect you and JJ to be any different, especially considering where you both came from. You'd get over it. He'd get over it. Everything would be fine. You just needed time to cool off.

"How the hell am I supposed to cool off if I'm sweating my ass off in this stupid ass sun walking across this stupid ass island back to who the hell knows where," you grumbled, crossing your arms. You tried not to pout like a child, but sometimes it just came out.

And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, they did.

"Hey!"

You sighed and hung your head at the sound of Rafe's voice. Putting your hands on your hips, you lifted your face to the sun, hoping that you would spontaneously combust and not have to deal with whatever was about to happen.

"What do you want, Rafe?"

"Where the hell is your crazy ass boyfriend?" Rafe asked, parking his motorcycle and walking over to you.

"I don't know."

"Have you been crying?"

"Fuck you." You looked behind him and saw Topper sitting on top of his motorcycle, doing everything he could to not look at you. You pointed a finger at him. "Yeah, and while we're at it, fuck you too."

Topper tried to smile and you sneered at him.

"You're in a splendid mood today," Rafe said. You tightened your jaw, hand curling into a fist.

"Rafe, if you don't-" Rafe grabbed your wrist with that familiar iron grip and yanked your arm upward. "Shit, man, what the hell?"

"I know your pogue boyfriend took Barry's money," Rafe sneered, pulling you closer to him. You narrowed your eyes and tried to yank your hand from his grip. "And I want you to know that it's Sarah who's gonna take the fall for it."

Your heart plummeted, but you kept it out of your face.

"What do you want me to do about it?" you asked.

"Fix it," he said. "If my sister gets hurt because of your stupid ass boyfriend-"

"Alright." You cut him off, trying to pull your wrist back again. "I've got it covered."

"You better." He released your wrist and you let it fall back to your side despite how badly it throbbed. He marched back over to his motorcycle, throwing a leg over before turning the key. You scrunched your nose as it roared to life, a puff of black smoke sputtering from the back.

"Those things trash the environment, you know," you said, almost shouting over the sound of him revving.

"Get me that money, Elma!"

You stuck up a middle finger as he and Topper rode away. Once they were out of sight, you let out a low hiss, looking down at your wrist. Damn, that boy had a painful grip. And a bad attitude. No wonder he was single.

Turning away from the road with a heavy sigh, you kicked your foot into a mound of sand.

"Fuck," you breathed.

***

It was dark by the time you made it back to the Chateau. Exhausted and feet riddled with blisters, you froze at the sight of banners and flashing lights. You could hear voices and the sound of rushing water. At the sound of the raised voices, you ran forward despite the pain in your feet.

"I got this for you!" You heard JJ yell as you neared.

You ran around a tree, skidding to a stop at the more than unusual sight. Streamers and lights were strung from the trees, all canopied around a large, bubbling jacuzzi. Dangling just above was a disco ball, which cast a strange light over the ground.

Pope and Kie stood rather rigidly on the outside of the pool, staring up at JJ. He was standing in the pool, right under the disco ball. There was a bottle in his hand, but you could see that there was very little left. But it wasn't the disco lights or the mostly empty bottle or the jacuzzi that worried you. It was the deep purple bruises that littered his ribcage that made your throat tighten.

You lifted a hand to your mouth, tears gathering in your eyes.

You knew you shouldn't have let him go home alone. You never should have let him walk away from you with that money. But you did and here he was. JJ turned toward you, his eyes widening and a smile pulling at his lips.

"Babe!" He opened his arms to you, as if inviting you to his home. "Look what I did! Look at this."

Even though there was a smile on his face and maybe even a look of pride, his eyes were filled with tears and you could tell that every move he made sent pain through him. All you could do was shake your head tearfully.

"JJ, what the hell?" Kie asked, her voice breaking. JJ looked at her and then over to you and then at Pope. He was looking for something, something that he wasn't getting from any of you. "JJ-"

"No, Kie!" JJ put up a hand. "Stop, just stop being emotional! It's fine, okay?"

You watched as his smile fell instantly, head starting to hang. You felt glued to your spot, as if the earth was keeping you where you were. But Kie stepped forward, walking right up to the hot tub.

"I mean, it's sweet, right?" JJ asked, quiet sobs starting to come from his mouth as he tried to keep up his facade. "Everything...Just get in!"

Kie stepped into the hot tub and threw her arms around JJ's neck, pulling him toward her. As soon as she was touching him, JJ broke down. Sobs shook through him, but Kie just held him tighter, as if hoping to squeeze the pain out of him. He hooked his arms around her waist, hands curled into pained fists.

"I just couldn't do it," JJ said finally, his words whispered and trembling. "I can't take him anymore!"

You had half a mind to turn around and go find Luke Maybank, show him what it was that your dad had taught you how to do. Your hands curled into fists at your side, fighting to keep your tears from falling. JJ didn't need your tears right now, he needed your help.

You and Pope moved almost at the same time. Because Pope was closer, he got there sooner, putting his arms around both Kie and JJ. You hopped over the side of the hot tub, wading through the water. You paused for a moment behind JJ, his shoulders still shaking from sobs. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, careful not to touch any of his bruises. He flinched at your touch, but then he let out a shuddered breath, relaxing against you.

Pope moved his arm to include you as you rested your head against JJ's back.

"I just wanna do the right thing," JJ whispered into Kie's hair.

"I know," she whispered back. You pressed a gentle kiss against his shoulder, holding him even tighter.

What had happened earlier that day at Barry's hadn't been right. Then, it had been everyone against JJ. That was what had pushed him to go back to his dad with the money. But this was right. This was what he needed. To know that his friends weren't going to leave his side, even when he was at his worst, at his lowest.

You remembered what he had said the other night on the dock. Whenever his dad did what he did, JJ always walked away feeling like it was his fault, like he deserved it. But that was what John B and Kie and Pope were for, to remind him that it wasn't his fault. All the pain his father put him through, the Pogues were there to show him that he didn't deserve it. You would do anything to help them help him realize it.

Only an hour later, JJ was asleep in his bed. You stood with Pope and Kie a few feet down the hall.

"What are we going to do?" Pope crossed his arms, glancing between you and Kie. You couldn't take your eyes off of JJ's sleeping form, his breathing steady.

"I have no idea," Kie whispered. You lifted a finger to your mouth, chewing on your nail. "Elm?"

You let out a heavy sigh, still not looking away from JJ. You knew exactly what you had to do.

"I have an idea," you said, finally looking at your other two friends. Kie scowled after seeing the look in your eyes. "If there was something I could do, you guys would be behind me, right?"

"One hundred percent," Pope said without hesitation.

"Depends on what that something was," Kie said a little slower. You nodded your head, turning back to look at JJ. He was so peaceful, the moonlight illuminating his face. You realized you would do anything for him, even if it meant walking straight through hell. Resolve hardened in your chest and you nodded your head.

"Okay," you said. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?"

"Um, yeah," Pope replied.

"Care to be less ominous, Elm?" Kie crossed her arms, her scowl deepening.

"I'm going to help JJ," you said. You nodded your head again, letting out a breath. Not waiting for either of them to say anything else, you crossed the room to where JJ was asleep. Holding your hair back, you leaned down and pressed a kiss against JJ's forehead. You straightened, turning toward the door. But before you could even take a step, JJ's hand reached up and grabbed your wrist.

When you looked back at him, his eyes were still closed. The grip that he had on your wrist was loose, telling you that he really wasn't awake. Still, you lowered yourself to your knees, shifting your hand so that you were holding his.

"I'm going to take care of you," you whispered, voice barely audible as you reached up to move a few pieces of his hair from his face. "You're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."

He mumbled something into the pillow, shifting under the blankets. You lifted his hand to your lips, kissing the bruised and torn skin on his knuckles. It gave you at least some semblance of relief to know that he got a few good punches in.

You watched him for a few more moments. The way his chest rose and fell evenly, as if nothing was wrong in the world. You wanted nothing more than to keep that peace on his face when he was awake. Right now, you would trade anything to make sure that when he woke up, he was living in a safer world than when he fell asleep.

Before the sudden moment of courage was gone, you stood, pulling your hand from his, and walked out of the house.

No one followed you.

***

Making yourself cry was probably the easiest thing you had ever done, especially now. You had left your dad in the hopes of finding gold and, even though you did, you felt like the weight of all that gold rested on your shoulders as you stepped up to your door. You waited until there were tears in your eyes right on the verge of falling before you knocked loudly on the door.

The waiting was like teetering on the edge of a knife. If you pushed too hard, you would fall, but if you didn't sell your story, you were dead.

When your dad flung the door open, you had to force every inch of your body not to flinch. Anger bubbled on the surface of his cheeks, his eyes alight with rage. But you met his fiery eyes with tears in your own, hoping to quench the flame before it burned you.

You held his gaze for a few seconds, forcing your lower lip to tremble. It took longer than you had wanted for him to soften even the slightest bit, but as soon as you knew there was a kink in his armor, you burst into a storm of tears.

"You were right," you sobbed, shoulders shaking as your face scrunched up tight. "I shouldn't have left."

Your dad watched you cry on the doorstep for what seemed like forever. You almost thought he was just going to close the door.

"What happened?" he asked, voice still tight. You sniffed, wiping your tears on JJ's shirt. Trying to calm yourself down after your fake outburst was harder than you had expected, as the emotional and physical exhaustion of the day made you want to cry anyway.

"I'm in trouble," you said, voice whispering.

"And you expect me to help you after what you did?"

You pouted your lips, preparing for the need to start sobbing again. He was right. Anyone in their right mind wouldn't help you after what you did. Still, you had to try. For JJ.

"Daddy," you murmured, voice still shaking. "I need you."

And that was all it took. Bile rose in your throat, forcing you to clamp your teeth shut so you didn't vomit on his feet. Every cell in your body reacted when he pulled you into a tight hug. Your hands started to shake for real, a new wave of tears overcoming you. This wasn't faked. This wasn't planned. Having your dad's hands on you, holding you so close, made you want to pull away from him and run. But you couldn't. So, you let the emotion take over, even if you didn't know how to control it just yet. It made it all seem more real, you supposed. Even though it was your dad making you cry, at least maybe he thought he was helping.

"Let me get you some food," he said, almost softly, when he pulled back from you. You sucked in a shaky breath and nodded your head. "C'mon, sweetheart."

He took your hand in his. Instinct told you to pull away, to not let him touch you, but you had to let it happen. Give him whatever he wanted so that you could get what you wanted. This was the only way you could protect Sarah, to protect JJ.

You swallowed the bile in your throat, shoving your fear into the deepest depths of your heart. You would deal with it later. Now, you needed to focus. Play the game the right way, get the prize. Don't let anything distract you.

Your dad sat you down at the dining table and walked over to the kitchen. You didn't stop shaking, hands trembling and legs bouncing. Trying to keep your breathing steady, you looked up when your dad returned with a plate of microwaved chicken.

"Thank you." You took the plate and the silverware, setting them against the table. "Where's Kid?"

"He's over at a friend's house," your dad said as he took a seat beside you. You weren't sure if that was a good thing or not. But you nodded your head. The silverware was cold against your skin when you picked it up, slowly lowering the knife and fork to the chicken. Your dad watched you with unreadable eyes. You could feel the anger radiating off of him, but he kept himself calm, which was very rare for him.

You took a bite of the chicken. It was heated very unevenly. You chewed slowly, then swallowed. It felt like swallowing a rock.

"Why did you come back?" Your dad asked as you started to cut into the chicken again.

"I got into some trouble with...with my friends," you said, your movements short and slow. Don't look threatening. You're just eating chicken, you're not here for a fight.

"So, you decided to come home?" You stuck the bite into your mouth, nodding your head a few times. "What kind of trouble?"

"Some guy tried to rob us while we were driving around," you told him.

"I never thought you were the type to come crying like a bitch because someone put you in a tight situation."

His words stuck into you like a barb, digging into your skin. You smiled. This line of the lie wasn't working. You needed to start telling the truth. It was the only way you were going to get where you wanted to be. Taking in a deep breath, you moved to cut another piece of chicken away.

"I came back because my friends are the ones in trouble and I need your help," you said, the shaking nearly gone from your body completely. Your dad let out a bitter laugh.

"You betray me and expect me to help you?"

"You love me, don't you?" Your words forced him to pause. He narrowed his eyes at you and let out a deep sigh.

"Tell me the truth, the entire truth," he said. You swallowed and nodded your head. This wasn't going to be fun.

"One of my friends did something stupid a while back, got a bit of debt with the police. We were trying to pay it back when we got robbed. My friend didn't take too kindly to it, so we went to the guy's house who robbed us. My friend took some money. The guy who robbed us thought it was my other friend and threatened her. The only way I can help them is if I pay off the robber and I pay off the restitution," you said as you cut your chicken into pieces.

"You need money."

You nodded your head, moving to pick a piece of chicken up with your fork.

"I need money."

Before you could reach your chicken, your dad's hand shot out and grabbed you by the wrist, the same wrist that Rafe had grabbed earlier. You gasped, pain blooming in your arm, and dropped the fork. It clattered against the plate. You looked over to your dad, whose face was still dead calm. It wasn't going to be that way for long.

"Which friends asked this of you?"

"None of them asked," you said, shaking your head.

"Which of them asked?" He raised his voice, squeezing your arm. You held back a shout of pain as you tried to pull your wrist out of his hand, but he wasn't letting go.

"Rafe!" You said as he started to squeeze harder. "The robber is after Sarah, so Rafe asked me to get the money back. For her sake."

His grip loosened ever so slightly and you sucked in a deep breath. The tips of your fingers started to tingle, the palm of your hand starting to throb.

"And the friend who stole the money in the first place, the one who needs the restitution?" You knew what he was asking and you knew that he already knew the answer to his question. If you lied, he would know and punishment would come for sure. If you told the truth, you would be confirming his worst fear and that would get you in a new world of trouble. It was a lose-lose. Which one would get you hurt the least while still maybe getting you what you wanted?

"He needs it, Dad," you said, real fear rising within you.

He struck with the speed of a snake and the strength of a lion, pining you to the table before you even knew that he had stood. He had one hand on your throat, pressing your against the wood, while his other hand stayed around your wrist.

"Have you slept with him?" Your dad seethed, his mouth inches from your face. You felt his spit splatter against your skin. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes tight.

"No. I haven't-"

His laughter interrupted you. He moved his hand from your throat, resting his entire forearm across your chest instead. It almost made it harder to breathe, the pressure on your chest breeding panic in your stomach. You tried to push his arm off with your free hand, but he had all the advantages of size and gravity. You were helpless to do anything.

"Why don't I believe you?" You started to say something, but he pressed down harder against your chest, making you gasp for breath and effectively shutting you up. "I mean, a pretty girl like you? No way he can keep his hands off of you."

Tears squeezed out the corner of your eyes and you fought to keep your lips from shaking. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. He wanted you to beg him for freedom, to grovel until he let you go. But not this time. You were sick of living in fear of him, exhausted from carrying his shadow everywhere you went. You weren't going to back down this time. Whatever it took, even if he killed you. You weren't going to give in.

He could see it in your eyes as the determination set in and hardened your heart. It was going to be a game of chicken, and you were determined to make him swerve first.

"But it's not just that one boy, is it?" He sneered with a cruel smile, taking your silent challenge. "I bet it's that entire little friend group of yours. And I wouldn't be surprised if it was Rafe, too. You treat 'em good, don't you, just like I showed you how?"

Breathing heavily through your nose, it took everything to keep your head on your shoulders and not bite him or scratch out his eyes. He was close enough, you could do it.

All that courage disappeared when your dad picked up the knife you had just been using off the table. Your body went painfully still at the sight of it. Your heart pounded against your ribcage. Light glinted off the tip of the knife right into your eyes. You turned away from it. Even without the pressure of his hand against your wrist, he still couldn't move out from under him. You were so sufficiently stuck where you were, there was no hope of getting out.

The pain you were used to was always hot. It made you sweat, like a fire running through your veins. That was what you were waiting for when your dad pressed the knife to your skin. But it wasn't hot like fire. This was cold as ice. You felt it freeze your bones, seize your muscles. For the first few seconds, you couldn't move.

When the pain finally registered, you had to keep your jaw screwed tight to keep from screaming. You tried to kick your legs in an attempt to get him off of you, but your dad had you pinned too tightly. Using your other arm to push against him had no effect either, even when you pressed your palm against his face, hoping to shove him off.

There was nothing you could do except try not to look at your forearm as he carved into your flesh with the steak knife. It took all of your strength to keep yourself from screaming. You couldn't stop your tears or the whimpering or the sobbing.

When he finally pulled the knife away, he smiled as if staring at a masterpiece. He released the pressure from your chest and you gasped in lungfuls of shaking breaths. A searing pain pulsed through your entire arm.

"This is a reminder for you," your dad said, letting the knife fall out of his hands and back onto the table. "And a warning to all of the boys you're ever gonna meet."

Your dad finally backed away from you completely and your body went slack. You slid off of the table, pulling your bleeding arm up to your chest. You couldn't bear to look down at what he had carved into your wrist, not with him still looming above you. A few more tears rolled down your red cheeks, running down your neck and soaking through the collar of your shirt. When you finally looked up at your dad, he was smiling down at you.

"It's what you deserved," he said, flexing his hand. His hand that was covered in blood. Your blood.

With that, he turned and walked away from you.

As soon as he was out of your sight, you let a sob out of your mouth. You slowly pulled your arm away from your chest, quiet sobs coming from your mouth as you did so. You gagged at the sight of the pool of blood on your arm. Using the oversized shirt you were wearing, you pressed the fabric against your arm in hopes of soaking up the blood.

Letting out a quiet hiss of pain, you pushed yourself off of the ground, pressing your arm into your shirt. The floor and the table were slick with your blood, a trail of footprints following your dad's departure.

All you needed to do was get upstairs to the bathroom, bandage yourself up, and get the hell out of there.

Your tears dried as you made your way to the stairs. Breathing still shaky, you shuffled up the stairs, suddenly glad that Kid wasn't home. You weren't sure what he would have done if he had been home. Whatever it was wouldn't have been good.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you flung open the cabinet where all of your first aid was. You turned on the sink, letting it run until the water was warm. Without looking at your arm, you tucked it under the faucet. The sting of the water sent chills up and down your spine, alighting your nerves, but you refused to make a sound.

You sat on the toilet as you pressed a few layers of gauze against the wound on your arm. It was going to take a lot of scrubbing to get the blood off before you drove back to the Chateau. You let out a heavy sigh, pressing a new set of gauze against the cuts and then wrapping it to keep the gauze in place. With the word that had been carved into your arm finally covered, you were able to let out one steady breath.

For as much pain your body was in, your mind felt numb. You tried to think about something, anything, but it was all just blank. What happened had yet to really sink in. You weren't sure that you wanted it to sink in. As long as you could pretend it never really happened, you would be fine.

So, forcing yourself to take another steadying breath, you pushed through the pain. You scrubbed your hands until the blood was gone, hoping to yourself that it wouldn't stain.

Once you thought everything was in place, you left your bathroom behind. Traveling back down the stairs, your eyes still puffy and stinging from your tears, you glanced into the dining room. You froze at the sight of the mess at the table. A part of you wanted to stop and clean it. That would be what your father expected you to do. Clean the mess before he saw it....

You scrunched up your nose, glaring down at the mess. You could feel your pulse through the cut in your arm, a throbbing pain. There was nothing you had to do for that man ever again. Your only responsibility now was to find that gold so you could save JJ, Sarah, and Kid. That's all you had to do.

Snatching your keys off of the counter, you nearly ran from the house, slamming the door behind you. Even as you walked to your car, you could hear it echo.

You were going back to the only place you wanted to be, the only place you could ever think of calling home.