Comments: Narias, thank you so much for reviewing. I hope you like the chapter.
Five minutes after the Luthorcorp gala began, I was out on one of the balconies with a cigarette. For me, nothing was better than the company of my cigarette, and that included the forty or so men I'd just been introduced to inside. Unfortunately, I couldn't find my lighter in my decorative purse, realizing that I must've forgotten it in my other one. "Shit," I murmured, lips still on the cigarette in hopes of it lighting on its own. Come on, I hear about objects spontaneously combusting all the time. What did I ever do to God?
"Need a light?" For the moment, the owner of that voice was my savior. I heard a match being struck, the flame held to my cigarette as I inhaled the sweet taste of nicotine, the tip burning red. Taking the cigarette from my lips to rest between my index and middle fingers, I held the smoke in my mouth as long as I could before letting it stream out.
"Thank you," I emphasized, turning to face the man standing next to me. I vaguely recognized him as one of the forty men my father introduced me to, but I couldn't grasp a name. Billings? Brooks? "I'm sorry, I forgot your name, Mr...?"
"Bridges." I knew it started with a B. "But you can call me Jeff, Miss Luthor."
I smiled and shook my head, taking another puff from my cigarette. "Lex, please."
"Lex," he corrected himself, flashing me a smile with perfect white teeth. He wasn't bad-looking at all, but I knew that most good-looking guys were jerks. "I don't blame you for not remembering my name. Your father seems to be a zealot when it comes to making sure all his business partners know who his daughter is."
"My father's a zealot when it comes to a lot of things, Jeff." Another drag from the cigarette.
"I've noticed. He really doesn't need to show you off, you know. You do that well enough yourself." I wasn't surprised by the compliment, knowing that there had to be scores of wolves after my inheritance that used honey more than vinegar.
I had stopped home to change dresses, the former one being covered in male sweat, spray-paint, and dirt. Rescuing Clark Kent from a field definitely had to be one of the weirder experiences in my life, but it wasn't something that I was against. He saved my life, after all, and I owed him one. I just wished he would've told me the whole story. I was currently wearing the necklace I found on him, a pretty emerald-colored gem on a gold chain, mostly because it matched my dress. It was a darker green, strapless and highlighting my cleavage before clinging to my waist and then puffing out a small amount, the bottom having a silky texture. It was one of those gowns that princesses wore, which was the only reason I somewhat enjoyed it. I had gold-lined emerald earrings to match along with a gold bracelet, even gold shoes with a strip of emerald across the area just before my toes. Jeff was obviously appreciating the view, reaching forward to touch my necklace and swiping the flesh of my chest softly, purposefully.
"This is an interesting necklace. Is it emerald?" He was suddenly two inches from me, his face close to mine, and I noticed that his eyes were the same color as the necklace.
"Uh, I don't know. I'm borrowing it from a friend." It took a lot to make me uncomfortable most of the time, but I was uncomfortable then. His eyes were intensely looking into mine, like he was getting ready to kiss me. I attempted to back off, dropping the cigarette over the balcony as my back pressed into the marble railing, but he followed me there, getting dangerously close to me. "Jeff," I snapped, making sure he heard the resistance and strength of command in my voice. One thing I've learned over the years is that in these situations, you can't afford the luxury of sounding weak. It worked. Jeff suddenly backed off, sensing my dislike. The thought of what had just transpired sent shivers down my spine, giving me small goose bumps.
"Do you want to go back inside?" he suggested, as if nothing happened. "I'll save you from the rest of the sharks in suits."
I simply nodded, not knowing what else to do. There was no way I wanted to work up his temper so that he became volatile, especially when we were alone like this. He took my hand, leading me back inside and then going to get us champagne. I plastered a small, fake smile on my face when he came back, taking the champagne and drinking all of it at once. No more alcohol after this, even if it's only champagne. I didn't want to be weakened in any way just in case Jeff wasn't clear about where we were going.
We danced to a few songs, and I relaxed some. He seemed like a normal, funny guy, but the incident on the balcony was still in the back of my mind. They say murderers seem completely normal and nice until they kill half the neighborhood. I was vaguely surprised that Lionel didn't check up on me all night, considering how excited he'd been for me to meet his business partners and spend time with them. I realized that Jeff must have been the one he really wanted me to meet, unless it was all coincidence. I don't believe in coincidence, but it sounded a little paranoid to assume my father had set all of this up.
I don't remember why I accepted a second glass of champagne, but I knew the second I drank it that it was a mistake. Letting my guard down always was. I started to feel immediately drowsy and nauseous, having to lean on Jeff. "I don't feel well," I muttered, my eyes drooping as he picked me up, taking a side door out of the party. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea...Thoughts sluggishly ran through my mind, trying to think of what was going on, why it was happening, and what I could do about it at the same time. It wasn't working.
"Don't worry, Lex." I could barely even move anymore, let alone struggle, as he put me in the back of his car. "I'll take care of you."
What is this? Date rape? That's so nineties. Bastard.
He was suddenly on me, his lips on mine as his body held mine down. It wasn't hard. I couldn't move well, but I tried, only batting his hand away like we were playing a childish game before he held my hand down. Shit. I was starting to panic.
"Get off me." I don't even know if the words came out right. My body wasn't right, and I couldn't do anything about what was happening to me. It was a control freak's worst nightmare. I was definitely in trouble.
"Your father said you were going to resist." Dad was involved in this? "Too bad I like 'em feisty."
When he started working my dress up, panic mode fully set in, and I started squirming, being able to do little else. It took all my energy to let out one scream, one he obviously wasn't expecting to hear as he jumped up and tried to cover my mouth. I looked up to the window at the same time Clark Kent's eyes looked down into the limo, my eyes widening at the coincidence. "Clark!" I shouted before Jeff smacked me hard, leaving me out cold. I could've sworn I heard the sound of metal tearing before I passed out.
I woke up on a couch covered with a blanket. Squinting my eyes, I saw that the ceiling was made from wood, perking a brow. This was not my house. I sat up, looking down to see I was still wearing the green dress, frowning immediately. What happened? I looked further, at the blanket, seeing it was a flannel pattern, bringing a smile to my face. Oh yeah. I have my own personal savior. The question was, how did he do it? Maybe Jeff didn't lock the doors. How did he even know where I was? The questions were put on hold for a moment as I examined my surroundings, finding myself inside the Kent Barn. Several books were on a small coffee table, most of them having to do with school. I got up, looking at a sort of window without the glass, in front of which there was a telescope. Even though it was daytime, I looked into it, seeing a house. Why would he have this pointed at a...oh. That must be Lana's house. Sure enough, I saw a teenaged girl with long, black hair come out to greet a blonde boy in a letterman jacket, a smile on her face. Fake. She doesn't even like her boyfriend.
"Uh," came Clark's voice as he caught me looking through the telescope. "I wasn't spying on her."
I straightened myself and gave him a smile, the blanket still wrapped around my shoulders. It was breezy by the 'window'. "Clark. I didn't hear you come up."
He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm quiet. I thought you were sleeping."
"I was. But then I woke up and found myself wondering what I'm doing in a barn."
"That guy you were with...," he started out uneasily, though he was slowly coming toward the window.
"Jeff Bridges," I clarified for him, looking at the floor. "He was a business associate of my father's."
"What was he doing?" His voice had grown softer, and I couldn't help but admire his tact.
"He was trying to rape me. How did you know where I was?" I was dying to ask questions about the cornfield.
"My mom. She said you dropped by to..."
"...to ask you to come with me to the gala," I finished, already having a handle on how shy he was about girl stuff. "How did you find it?"
"I asked around. The Luthorcorp building wasn't too hard to find. The giant logo on the building kind of gives it away."
Something suddenly puzzled me. "How'd you get there?"
He suddenly looked uncomfortable. It was the slightest change in his posture, but I caught it. "I got my friend Pete to drive me."
"How'd you even get into Jeff's car?"
"It was unlocked."
"Really?" I found it hard to believe, but maybe Jeff had been concentrating more on me and less on his car.
"Really. I tried to convince my dad to let you stay in my room instead of the barn, but he wouldn't have it."
"Of course not. I'm a Luthor, after all. I'm surprised he let me stay here."
"I told him what happened. He was kind of lenient after that."
I scoffed. "Of course."
"Do you want some clothes to change into? I don't have anything fancy, but it's something."
"Will your dad let me in the house for a shower?"
He gave me a grin. "What? The hose isn't good enough for you?"
I smiled, giving him a light push. "Come on, Clark. Please?"
"I'll ask."
After five minutes of coaxing, I got my shower, changing into Clark's blue t-shirt and a pair of his jeans. The legs were too long, even though I was tall for a woman, and the pants looked ridiculous with my heels, so I went barefoot. Emerging from the bathroom, I found Clark waiting for me, and I could tell he was amused by my appearance.
"You look--"
"Shut up," I interrupted, though I said it with a smile. They seemed to be infectious around him.
"Dad sent me to escort you out of the house and back into the barn. He has some things to do around the farm before he can drive you home."
We went back into the barn, even though I found the rule to be stubborn and pigheaded. He had to carry me until we got to the stairs, the rest of the floor being covered with hay that could pierce my foot. He was stronger than he looked, not even straining the slightest bit under my weight. My curiosity could no longer take the wait. "What happened to you last night? In the cornfield?"
He hesitated, waiting for us both to sit on the couch before he started his explanation. "I went to the football field to see if Lana was there. Whitney and his friends grabbed me, threw me in his truck, and tied me up out in the cornfield."
"Other than practicing archaic Roman rituals, what were they doing tying you up in a cornfield?"
"Every year for the homecoming game, the football team finds a dorky guy to string up in the field and be that year's scarecrow. In my case, Whitney just happened to notice that I've been hanging around Lana a lot lately, so he decided to get his revenge."
"That's so immature. You'd think that guys would start to grow up after fifteen years of living. Of course, when they're still immature at my age, there really is no hope, is there?"
"I'm a guy. Am I immature?" He looked somewhat offended. It made me smile.
"Maybe a little. Socially. But you're years past your age when it comes to responsibility and kindness."
"I've been dying to ask you...," he started, and I didn't know what to expect. "How do you get your hair to stay like that? Is that some kind of girl trick?"
My smile faded. I knew it would come to this eventually, but that didn't mean that I wanted to weaken myself further in his eyes. After the crap he got me out of last night, I was already insecure, but he deserved an explanation, especially after he told me the truth about the scarecrow thing. "No. It's not a trick. When I was nine, my father brought me along on a business trip to Smallville. It just happened to be right when the meteor shower hit, and I lost my hair. I was thinking about coming out about it eventually, but Dad doesn't think it's a good idea."
To his credit, Clark's expression didn't change for the negative. Rather, he smiled warmly at me, his eyes not hiding any deception behind them. "That's a good wig. It looks like real hair."
"Thanks. I have a lot of them so that I can wear different styles, but sometimes it feels like it'd be easier to go without."
"So why don't you?"
"I told you, Clark, my father thinks--"
"I've only known you for a week, Lex, but I already know that you don't care what your father thinks."
"The media wouldn't be kind to me, Clark. People would start treating me differently. I got tired of that when I was a teenager. They looked at me like I was a freak."
"You're not a freak."
"Other people aren't as kind to me as you are. In my world, you can't let your guard down. Once they find your weakness, it's over."
Clark looked like he knew exactly what I meant by that.
