Bates Motel: Justin Bieber

Chapter 27

Justin swung the door open, coughing up his lungs. He staggered back until he was far enough away from the smoke. He dropped to his knees and rested his head in his hands. He tried catching his breath, before his eyes flickered over to the burning house, his heart sinking. Kevin was right. That house brought so many good memories to his mind, going there made him happy . . . and now it's gone. "I'm sorry, Ryan," he whispered to himself. He was heaving in fresh air to be able to breathe normally, but he knew he couldn't just sit around waiting for his lungs to function properly.

"Violet," he muttered, as if he just now realized she was gone. He steadied himself as he stood up, and winced. His ribs were either broken or horribly bruised, and every move he made, felt like he'd been stabbed multiple times. He did his best to limp his way out of the woods, as he fished his phone out of his pocket. Of course he had no service in this shithole of a town, so he dragged himself to the nearest payphone.

He'd looked up a number in his contacts and punched it into the payphone. He awaited the dial tones and couldn't deny the smirk forming on his face when someone picked up.

"Ricky," Justin chuckled. "It's me, Bieber."

There was a short pause before the man on the other end responded. "What can I do for ya?"

"You're gonna like this one . . . Kevin. Remember that asshole? He beat the shit out of me and left me to die in Ryan's old house. He set that bitch on fire. I need you and your guys to come pick me up, you got that?"

"I guess I can make that happen," Ricky grinned.

"I'm on Seventh Street."

"Alright. See you in a bit," Ricky gruffly said. Justin hung up the phone and rested his head against the glass booth. His face twisted into a look of pain as he lifted up his shirt and took a look at his ribs.

"Ah, god damn it," he gritted through his teeth. His fingers ran across the purple skin and flinched. Luckily, he didn't feel any broken bones, but he'd have to have Ricky and his boys check him out. They were good with that stuff. He pulled at his hair, frustrated that he'd let things get this far. How careless did he have to be to let Kevin put his hands on Violet like that? Just the thought had him pounding his fist on the glass of the payphone booth.

"She's gonna be okay, man," someone said behind him. Justin quickly turned around and was face to face with Ricky. When did he get here? He didn't know, but it was quick, not even twenty minutes had passed.

"How did you know about her?"

Ricky grinned knowingly. "I have my ways . . . You forget that all my shit is precise and nothing gets passed without going through me. Now, do you really wanna sit and wait here, or do you wanna kick some ass?"

Justin smiled smugly, but winced when he tried to move. Ricky rolled his eyes and grunted. "Show me what he did." Justin lifted his shirt and Ricky nodded.

"I'll have Sven take care of that for you; give you some pain meds, you'll be good as new."

-

"Stop!" Violet screamed, her legs kicking. Leno had tried to come near her and untie the rope around her wrists. "Don't fucking touch me!"

Leno roughly kicked her legs out of the way, unknotting the rope, and yanking her wrists free. He quickly got ahold of her arms before she started swinging, but she already got a hit in his shoulder. He grabbed her by her forearms and shook her forcefully to get her attention. She winced from his grip, but immediately stood still.

"Listen up, I'll break you into two before you think about hitting me again. I'm not here to fight you, I'm doing my fucking job." He pulled her forward, as she stumbled on her feet. "You got that?" He threatened, shoving her shoulder.