Hi guys, thank you for reading my fic I am in love with Jerome and his unpredictable personality, it's what makes me love that son of a bitch! (literally)
(I also forgot to mention this but I own absolutely NOTHING except my OC Elise!)
WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of attempted rape and attempted non/con, if that makes you uncomfortable don't read
When I wake up there is a dull ache in my forehead. I look to my left and there is a glass of water and a bow on donuts on a night stand. Current events rush into my head and jolt up and out of the bed - only to yank on the cuff around my wrist attached to the bedpost. I scream in frustration as I tug on the chain until I hear a light chuckle from behind me.
"Oh good, you're awake. Glad we didn't hit you too hard. I'm Jerome by the way, we've actually met before." He says as he strides over to me. I recognize the pale man instantly.
"Yeah, I can see you're a real hit" I say, sarcastic as hell. This takes him by surprise as he bursts into hysterical laughter, rolling on the floor and popping up at the side of my bed.
He leans in close with an ear to ear grin. "Oh, we are going to have a lot of fun, gorgeous" He sits on the bed, crawling closer to me.
"Don't fucking touch me." I pull the blanket closer to me, prepared for the worst.
His smile falls. "Is that any way to speak to the person who saved you from the streets? I mean, you have to admit this is a little nicer than your old place, and a bit less of a dump." he chuckles at his joke. When I don't reply and he sighs.
He leaves the room soon after and for some reason I don't feel any better alone. I think about that last thing he said, however. Yesterday I had been scraping cans out of the trash for dinner
I hear footsteps and a woman's voice talking with the Jerome.
A few minutes later the door creaks open and in walks a woman much more attractive and graceful than I could ever be comes in and introduces herself as Barbra. I stay silent. She looks me up and down.
"Holy hell, kid you could use a shower." She releases me from the cuff. "Don't get any ideas yet, hon. I still don't know how I feel about you." She says, her eyes telling me what she was capable of, all while holding the same friendly smile.
She puts an arm around my shoulders and guides me down the hall. We pass empty rooms until we get to a grand bathroom. What it lacked in size, it made up for appearance. Glass doors to a shower with white, fluffy towels, a robe, and multiple shiny bottles of soap lined around it. She tells me she'll come get me when I'm done and clicks the door. I stand there uncertainly before I begin to peel off my clothes. Looking at the pile of my cut-off shorts, leggings, and a dark sweater and then to the mirror I realize she's right. I take advantage of all of what is in there. I hadn't been groomed in a long time.
When I get out I see that my clothes are now gone. I throw on the silky, navy blue robe and peek out the door. Barbara is sitting at a table reading a magazine. I go back to my room, unsure of what I was supposed to do. I notice for the first time a small closet in the room, along with the contents of what I had stored in my bean bag back in the street. I hadn't known they'd brought it. I get out my comics and reread them, not sure of what else to do.
After several hours I grow restless and peek outside the door. I catch sight of the hairy man that had found me (whose name was Greenwood I think) standing alongside the huge bald man who had me dangling by my collar. As soon as the shorter one caught me, he took his two fingers and tongue and make a lewd gesture my way, making me grimace. Once they leave I take a step out of my room just to come face-to-face with Barbara.
"Jerome's waiting in there by the way." She nods her head to a larger room at the end of the hall.
I don't want to but, seeing all the choices I was left with, I took a deep breath and walked to the door.
There he sat, clothed in pajamas and a maroon robe, looking at a newspaper and grinning. There is light music in the background and the room is very dimly lit. He gets up and in an instant he has an arm around me, holding up the paper to the front page. Pictured was the bus of cheerleaders he had nearly torched.
"Would you look at that?" he says, laughing as he sits back down on the couch and motions for me to come sit next to him. I do, reluctantly, sauntering over and taking a seat on the opposite end of the small couch. He has other ideas however, as he put an arm around my waist and sat me on his lap. Now I'm afraid again. I don't like the way he looks at me and I remember how fucked I must be. These people are murderers. God knows what he wants with me.
He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair back. I don't recognize the look on his face.
"You know, I always wondered what had happened to you after that night. I looked for you and I was worried about what had happened…" he stares off and when he looks back up at me he is back to his usual jokester grin. "But you're here now and that's all that matters."
I gulp, not knowing what to say.
He jumps up suddenly, pulling me up with him. "Would you like to dance with me, Elise?"
He uses a remote to increase the soft music ever so slightly and draws me nearer. My head is level with his chest and he pulls me a little closer so that I'm leaning on him slightly but I'm rigid against his body. We 'dance' slowly, with him leading me in small circles as I take small steps. After a while I'm able to relax and lean more against him. An almost sweet scent was coming off his collar. I was trying to decide if it was cologne or if he too had just taken a shower when all of a sudden my back touches the wall.
I tense up again. We are no longer dancing as his hand strokes my shoulder, the other wandering down to my hip, trying to reach softer skin. I'm reminded of my bareness under the robe and push him slightly. He doesn't budge. I lose my cool when he puts his knee between my legs and his tongue touches my neck.
This is how it happens. One of your first nights on your own. First they get you to trust them, then the next thing you know he has you trapped and beaten and tries to take off your pants and you haven't felt this scared since your dad and oh god, is his friend just watching? You want to throw up as his filthy hands roam your body and he talks about how much he's going to enjoy 'breaking you in'… And then you remember your broken scissors and the next thing you know there's blood on you and holes in his belly and chest and face and now the role of victim is reversed now and you're reminded of that saying 'the hunter has become the hunted' or some shit like that and you've never felt this sick but he's the jackass who had cornered a scared animal…
I shove the heavily breathing man with all my might, so that he stumbles back and I pull my robe back together, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. He was just like a child. Trying to take whatever he wants.
"I… I apologize." He says softly. "That was extremely *ahem* un-gentlemanly of me. Guess I just…got caught up in the moment…Forgive me?"
I don't reply.
"I won't do that again… I'm sorry." His green eyes had a look of guilt in them. I get up and quickly run back to my room.
