John

The man's eyebrows rose slightly and a slight smile touched his lips.

"You are rich?" he asked. "Perhaps you have brought cash with you?"

John shook his head. "No," he said. "But I'll stay in John's place. I'll pay his debt."

The man stared at John for a long moment. Long enough for John's words to sink in and my brain to register one clear though: surely John can't be serious? Doesn't he know what that means?

"You understand what this means." The man could have been reading my mind.

John nodded, a look of peace on his face that I could not in a million years wrap my head around.

"John," I croaked, my voice tinged with desperation. "John, what are you doing."

John took a few steps toward me and wrapped his arms around me. "And this is love," he whispered, "that a man lay down his life for his friend."

I shook my head against his chest as my own chest began to constrict. "No."

John gently pushed me toward Paul, who put his arm around me to hold me up, which was good because my legs weren't holding up too well at this point. I could feel Paul trembling slightly, but he just nodded to John. By this time, the reality of what was happning finally caught up to Pete.

"No," he said in a surprisingly firm voice. "John, I'm not letting you do this."

"It's not up to you," John said. "But one day you'll understand."

He turned to the man who'd been watching us, his face only showing the faintest traces of incredulty at a situation I could be fairly certain he'd never encountered before. As John told the man "I'm ready," Paul leaned down to whisper in my ear: "You're going to have to be strong, Gia, and hold it together for a few minutes. I'm going to have to get Pete to the car, you know?" I nodded, and reached inside me for whatever strength I could find. John turned toward Pete and smiled as the two thugs began walking toward us to lead John from the room.

"Sorry, Pete," John said. "But I think you'll forgive me later." Before Pete could respond John reached back and planted a monster punch across Pete's face, knocking him out. Paul was ready for it, and I moved to help him grab Pete. After one last look at John's retreating figure and the bizarre, chilling room, I helped Paul wrestle Pete out the door and into the car. I felt completely numb as we shoved him in the back seat. Paul hurried around to the driver's side as I slid into the front seat. As I shut the door, I heard the gun shots. I doubled over, moaning; Paul clutched the wheel for a brief moment, tears running down his face. Then he turned keys and shot out of the driveway.