A loud thud outside of his room woke Jiri from his troubled sleep. He sat up, hanging his legs over the side of his small cot. Wiping a hand down his face, Jiri tried to remember what day it was but nothing came to mind.

He wasn’t even sure if it was day or night. There were no windows in the small room he inhabited. Just a door, a small army cot, a crate Jiri used as a nightstand, a lamp, a cardboard box that housed what clothes he had, and a sink with a mirror. It wasn’t much but it was his.

Jiri stood up and walked to the small sink in the corner. He turned on the cold water and cupped some in his hands, bringing it up over his face. Turning off the water, he looked at himself in the mirror above the sink.

Lifting his hand Jiri gently touched the soft purple color around his left eye. Well, at least the swelling had gone down a little. His lower lip was another matter. It was cracked and swollen, dried blood on the small cut there.

He’d looked worse but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. He was getting tired of being beat up. Of course, he was also getting used to it. Maybe that’s what he had such a problem with. He was getting used to being knocked around by his stepfather and his buddies.

If that didn’t say how sad his life was, Jiri didn’t know what did.  A person should never get used to being beat up. Jiri just didn’t know what other choice he had. He had no where to go and no money to get there. Larry had taken all his money last night right before he and his buddies beat the crap out of Jiri.

He was stuck living in hell with Larry, his stepfather. He lived in what was once a storage closet in Larry’s auto repair shop. He worked from the time the sun came up until it went down repairing cars and working the gas station out front.

Jiri didn’t intend to be here forever. He’d run the first chance he got. He had even been saving up his tips until last night. He had to because Larry didn’t pay him anything for the work he did. Oh, Larry provided just enough food and personal supplies to keep Jiri alive, but just that.

Shaking his head at the sad condition he was in, Jiri reached into his cardboard box and pulled out the cleanest shirt he had to wear and pulled it on. He buttoned up his pants and pulled his shoes on.

He was just reaching for the door handle of his small room when he heard another loud thud outside of his room. Turning the handle slowly, Jiri eased the door open and peered out. He really hoped Larry and his buddies weren’t still around. He so didn’t need to run into them again, at least, not until he healed up from the last little party they threw for him.

Peering out, Jiri couldn’t see anything. The garage was unusually dark. Maybe it was nighttime? Jiri was a little confused by that. If it was night, Larry must have let him sleep in and Larry never let him sleep in.

Jiri looked around the door but he still couldn’t see anything. A small shaft of light was coming from Larry’s office, which meant Larry was still around. Just perfect. Jiri hoped he could avoid him but knew he probably couldn’t.

Closing the door behind him, Jiri made his way towards the far door. To get to it he would have to pass by Larry’s office but if he were real quiet, he might be able to make it without Larry hearing him.

As Jiri inched his way past the smoky glass window of Larry’s office he saw shadows move out of the corner of his eye. Jiri froze, trying to even out the breath that was rushing rapidly in and out of his chest.

It was only when Jiri heard the voices coming from Larry’s office that he realized the people in Larry’s office were not Larry’s buddies. He didn’t recognize their voices but he knew that they were angry.

“You cheated me, you son of a bitch,” someone yelled.

“I didn’t mean to, honest, Zane. It was a mistake!” That was Larry. Jiri would recognize that simpering voice anywhere.

“You’re damn right it was a mistake!” the other voice shouted. “Now, how do you plan to rectify it?”

“Rectify?” Larry asked. He sounded confused, the moron. Jiri seriously doubted Larry even knew what the word meant. He was big and beefy and dumb as the day was long. Rectify would be a word he wouldn’t understand.

“Fix it, you dumb ass. You owe me and if you don’t pay up, I’m going to let Slash here take it out of your hide.”

Jiri quickly covered his mouth with his hand as a giggle threatened to escape. He would love to have a ringside seat to Larry being handed his ass. He’d even pay for seats, if he had any money.

“I don’t have anything, I swear,” Larry cried out.

Jiri could see enough shadow coming through the smoky glass to know that Larry was cowering back in his chair. A much larger man was bent over him. Several more shadows moved throughout the small office.

“I don’t believe you, Larry,” the large man replied. “I want what’s mine!”

Jiri’s eyes widened as the man picked Larry right up out of his chair by a hand at Larry’s throat. He barely had time to scramble out of the way before Larry came sailing through the window to land on the floor at Jiri’s feet, glass spraying everywhere.

Jiri stood there, stunned to see his stepfather, the man who had made his life a living hell, lying on the floor covered in blood and broken glass. His eyes slowly made the track back up the wall to the shattered window.

Shock held Jiri immobile as his eyes landed on the biggest man he had ever seen. He was leaning out the broken window staring down at the floor where Larry lay groaning.