Way Down I'll Go

Flutter, Float, and Change to Butterflies

As the kitchen crew began to trickle out at the end of the shift, Jo decided to leave sooner rather than later, hoping to avoid an encounter with Frank or "sir."  He wasn't sure which scared him more at this point, but neither man seemed to be paying him any mind at the moment. He folded his towel and left it on the pristine sink, then snuck out the door.

Several streets away, he figured he was safe and slowed his pace.

He didn't hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late.

A hand grabbed him and shoved him against a building wall, the bricks scraping along the belt marks his father had left the day before.

"Not so fast, little one. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Jo shoved off the wall with all his strength and slammed his shoulder in the man's chest. This bought him only a second to run before the hand grabbed his wrist and a fist slammed into his already-tender ribs. His face was backhanded and he soon found himself shoved face first into the wall.

Sir's breath came out in puffs and he held tightly to the back of Jo's neck, slamming his face into the wall several times. Jo's arm was twisted behind his back and his shoulder burned as Sir continued to twist it.

"It always turns me on when you try to fight, boy. Makes the fuck even better."

Jo wanted to fight, to run. He willed himself to escape as the man's hand slid from his neck and crept beneath his shirt, but he was frozen in pain and fear. Sir ran his hands over Jo's back and torso, then threw him to the ground without warning. Landing several kicks to his midsection, he pulled the boy to his knees.

Jo struggled to remain upright, feeling the blood drip from his nose and face. He was dazed and almost didn't register the sound of a belt being undone and a fly bring unzipped. Then, the hand returned to the back of his neck, forcing him forward. He resisted and received a punch across the face for his trouble.

"Be the good little whore you are and open that pretty mouth of yours, or I'll have to-"

He never finished that sentence. 

Jo didn't know where Frank came from, but within seconds, the man in front of him was reduced to a groveling, bloody mess. Frank stepped back for a second, catching his breath, then grabbed the sobbing man off the ground by his collar and landed his fist firmly across his face, the crunch of bone echoing off the alley walls. Grabbing his face, Frank forced it toward his own.

"If I ever catch sight of you again, I'm gonna cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat. In fact, I have a good mind to right now..."

"Oh, god, no, please! I'll go! I'll leave! Please!" 

The pleas trailed off in hiccuping gasps.

Frank threw the man away from him and he took off running down the alleyway and out of sight. Satisfied that he was gone for good, Frank pushed his hair from his face and turned his attention to Jo, who was still on his knees, swaying slightly.

"You okay, kid?" he asked gently, approaching with caution.

Jo said nothing, trying to wrap his head around this turn of events. He'd never been saved before. He wondered what Frank wanted in return, and couldn't help flinching when he knelt in front of him.