Don't Lose Sight of Me

(42) The Old Switcharoo

Juliette
He hastily hands me a small item. "Hide this between your legs. And only when you have to." He whispers. I glance down at the item that turned out to be a small switchblade.

"Please don't go." I beg him, reaching for his hand as he begins to pull away. He looks back at me, and frowns. I couldn't really see his eyes. The hoodie was drooping over them. "I promise to get you home safe." He whispers. "No tom, please." I beg him, a tear running down my face. He reaches over and quickly wipes it away.

He pecks my forehead and gulps again. "You'll be okay." He whispers and turns around.

"What do you want?" He asks them almost immediately. His father begins to laugh, handing the money to Peter who hands him a small gun. "Take it to the safe house." He calls out to Peter who was already walking away with it. "What's the rush? It's been years. Just trying to.. catch up on my boy's life." He smirks waving the gun around.

Tom scoffs and shakes his head. I look down at his hand, noticing it was trembling. He was terrified, trying to keep from showing it. "Cut the bullshit. You never cared about us." Tom growls. "We were just a transaction for you. A way of feeding your fucking addiction."

"Oh you make me sound so horrible." His father laughs. "We had some good times. All the sparring we did. The first beer we shared together. Your first chokehold. How about all the times I let you practice slamming me against walls? That was fun."

The whole wall thing, explained a lot. All the times Tom would slam Josiah and Austen against walls so effortlessly, suddenly made sense.

"You were a shitty father. A low.. grotesque.. pathetic excuse of a person." Tom growls. His father smirks and shrugs. "I like to think of it as.. tough love."

He steps closer to Tom, pushing the end of the gun against Tom's jaw. "Such a shame I won't get to see your brother. He was always more.. submissive. The real money maker."

In one swift move, Tom headbutts his father, grabbing the gun from him. His father barely stumbles, but does lose some balance. "Stop!!" I scream as his father grabs a hold of Tom's hoodie and manages to pull him down with him. They both hit the ground. "You little shit!" His father growls as they roll on the ground.

He reaches for the gun, but Tom manages to hit it with his hand. The gun slides across the floor, to the side. His father lets out an almost roar like yell as he grabs Tom and flings him to the side. Tom hisses in pain as he hits one of the mechanical machines, gasping shortly after as he tries to get up. I couldn't see his face from the hoodie covering him, but I could tell that blow was hurting him.

His father turns towards me. His eyes were raging with anger. His pupils were fully dilated. I couldn't help but catch my breath as his glare alone had me frozen, cowering in fear. "I think it's time we get rid of you." He smirks stepping towards me. I shakily exhale in fear, scrambling away from him as he slowly walks towards me. "TOM!!" I scream in fear, finding myself unable to get up and run from my ankles being swollen and the skin almost completely skinned from the harsh rope.

Tom pushes himself off the floor, lunging for his father. As they hit the ground, Tom raises his fist and strikes his father across the face. His father manages to grab Tom's arm and shoulder. There's a loud crack followed by Tom nearly shouting in pain as his father forces his shoulder blade out of the joint. He grabs Tom, pushing him off, before grabbing him from the collar and dragging him to a nearby wall. He raises Tom, pulling him sideways, before slamming him against the wall.

I squeeze my eyes shut as there's a loud thwack, from the blow. Tom gasps, quietly whimpering in pain once as he falls to the ground. "It seems you've forgotten what we practiced." His father chuckles over his body. He kicks Tom once in the ribs. Tom buckles over, shouting in pain. "No, stop. STOP!" I beg him trying to get up.