Oh, you fuck right off with that kinda bullshit. Who the hell do you think you are? Accusing me of that kinda shit? You think I grew up to be like you? Fuck off. Chrissy, we're leaving.

[Honestly, it's taking every shred of decency he has to not fly off the bike right now to punch his Papa's lights out at an insult like that.

Yeah, he feels bad for Chrissy's nosebleed but that's something they can sort out somewhere else. They don't have to go far. They can find themselves somewhere to pull over out of this asshole's sight. Fuck. He starts the engine, and the sound roars over his father's protests.]

Johnnie, come on. Bring her inside, she can get cleaned up, then you can go. That's all I'm asking.

[But Johnnie barely gives him the time to finish his sentence. He's leaving, Chrissy is coming along, fuck that guy for pretending to care now, suddenly, too many years too late. He served his purpose getting them out of the storm but anything more and Johnnie won't be able to contain the fight in him. Chrissy doesn't need to see him beat on a pathetic fucked up drunk asshole anyway. He huffs an angry breath, then gets the bike rocketing down the street, going who knows where.]