The idea of being put into the ground thrashing and conscious was terrifying. Watching the ground rise around you and not having the mobility to lift yourself from it.
Kuklinski was a dark man.
I'd realized this as he stood at the top of the grave, head cocked to the side. Simply watching. He didn't even smile. I think that might have scared me the most. I kept thinking that I wanted the security I had with the Joker back. Well, what little security I had with him. It was more like a standing truce. I amused him every once and a while, and inspired ideas and caused scenes. As long as I kept it small enough that he didn't feel outshined, he would keep me alive.
That and I knew that the black hearted thing had a little feelin' for his Harley.
"You should have taken me for a ride more often." I growled into the dirt beacuse, yes; This Harley liked a little vroom-vroom with her Hell's Angel. I couldn't help feeling cheated knowing I'd only gotten some action with the man half numbed by medications. I couldn't go out that way!
Kuklinski suddenly smiled and pulled out his phone a little after they'd covered most of my legs. His hand went up slightly and the shovels slowed, but never stopped.
"I thought you would have let this one go, Mr. Joker." The Italian grinned. Then gave a loud laugh at whatever my Puddin' replied. I spat out a mouthful of earth just when he nodded o Max. I watched as the ogre glanced between the two of us, then kicked in a pile at my head.
"This is defiantly a deal I can work with." Kuklinski said finally, standing strait. He looked down at me, then turned on a heal and went back to his sportscar.
My body shook uncontrollably when they'd finally dug me back out and hauled me out of the hole. Max tried to gode me with little stabs at my cracking ability to smile away my fear. He pushed me about, but got no expression or words and finally gave up.
This time I didn't fight when they wanted me in the trunk. I just let Max pick me up and sit me inside. His smirk usually would have sent me boiling with anger, but at the moment, I was a little numb. I closed my eyes, and breathed in the dizzying heat deeply, hoping the fade a little for the drive.
oOo
I could hear the men talking outside the trunk and the domino effect of guns cocking one after another. I knew that every man was aiming at the opposite side, leering for the benefit of their boss, and idly wondered who had more on their side…or were we matched?
The trunk was popped and hands invaded the darkness to drag me unceremoniously out of the car. My foot got caught on the lip and I fell against the pavement with a yelp, biting down hard enough to draw blood on my lip. I couldn't be this pathetic little thing anymore. Not in front of him.
The thug held my upper arm so tightly it was tingling from lack of blood flow, but I didn't say a word because I could see the Joker across the garage and my heart was rapidly climbing into my throat. He looked so wonderful there, sporting his infamous purple three-piece suit and tossing a switchblade between his gloved hands. He whistled a jaunty little tune as he played, ignoring me completely, though I knew he was completely aware of everything around him. It took a lot not to call out to him or at least try to move toward him, but I managed. He was so close now, and all I wanted was to touch him.
"Alright, you freak," Richard Kuklinski, leaning back against his gleaming black sports car, crossed his arms, "Here's your woman, where's my present?"
The Joker slid the blade back into his coat pocket and smiled. "Your…ah-ha..'presen-t'is right here." He glanced back at Alec and motioned toward Kuklinski with his head. The huge, British man reached into their-our- van and withdrew a fat silver briefcase. The Joker raised his eyebrows and let them drop again in a playful show of excitement.
At least someone was having fun here.
Alec moved forward and I was suddenly being hauled toward my Puddin', not that I was putting up any kind of fight; this brute was just walking too fast for me to follow. I tripped my way across the garage and met Alec in the middle. For a long moment the two men just glared at each other, then Alec held out the briefcase, and I was shoved into his arms.
I threw the bastard a glare as Alec helped me straiten then turned back toward the clown. His black eyes were boring into me, intense and frightening as ever. Unable to hold his gaze, I dropped my eyes to the concrete and shuffled forward.
"Put this on." Alec nudged my arm, handing over a thick length of chain. It was connected in the center by two silver rings, one around the chain itself and the other acting as a sort of stopper. The thing fit around my neck easily enough and hung down just between my collarbones, like some huge chain necklace. It was heavy, but glinted under the florescent lights of the garage and didn't look half bad, though I wondered why I deserved a present too. Because there was always a catch.
"You should keep a closer eye on that one. "Kuklinski smiled, pushing off his car to inspect the stacks of money within the briefcase, then snapped it shut and turned back to us. "Maybe put her on a leash."
The Joker followed me with his dark eyes until I stood just beside him and licked his lips. "My thoughts ex-act-ly." He replied then snapped his fingers. One of the men beside our van ducked into the vehicle and pulled out something that glinted when he tossed it over to the Joker. My heart began to hammer when I realized it was in fact a chain leash with thick links just like my necklace and a red nylon strap at its end.
He motioned me over impatiently and clipped the leash to what I now realized was a choke collar for large dogs. My dogs. I opened my mouth to speak, but in a flash the Joker had looped the length of chain around his wrist and pulled it tight. The choke collar clinked tighter around my throat and I sucked in a breath, hands impulsively shooting up to grab the offensive thing.
"See, Harley here knows that she did ba-d." He searched my face with an expression of rage that had me whimpering, and jerked the leash again. I gagged, unable to breath and widened my eyes, glancing over toward Kuklinski who looked about as shocked as me.
What had he expected, hugging?
The Joker yanked on the leash again and my mouth bobbed open, desperate for air, but he didn't think I deserved it. White lights were flashing behind my eyes and I was starting to get a bit light-headed, but I knew better than to struggle.
"Next time you get yourself abducted," he growled, "pray that he kills you. Because this-" he motioned around the garage with his free hand, "won-t happen again."
I nodded desperately then fell to my knees when he relieved the tension in the leash. God, air was a wonderful thing! I gulped it in with greedy lungs and fought to stop the violent coughing that came with my newly opened throat. There would be bruises, I had no doubt.
"You're a sick man, Joker." Kuklinski looked disgusted now and shook his head; looking down at me like I was some abused dog…I guess I was. "I still say you could do better." (I don't know which of us he was referring to. Maybe both.) Then with a heavy sigh, he visibly put it out of his mind and turned his attention back on the clown. "On that note, I suppose our business here is done."
Mr. J's lips peeled back into a smile. "Yeah…well…not quiiite."
There was the sound of guns being jerked back to attention and Kuklinski spun back to face us while I struggled to my feet, forgotten though the Joker still held my leash.
"What the hell does that mean?" he demanded, fist clenching.
The Joker cupped one hand beside his mouth and fluttered the other toward the thug with the briefcase. "Check the box." He spoke in a theatrical whisper and nodded encouragingly. His hand dropped to his side to drum impatiently on his thighs.
Kuklinski nodded the OK to his lackeys, frowning angrily and waited.
"It's just the cash, boss." The thug looked almost frightened, but Mr. J cleared his throat.
"Dig just a liiiitle deeper."
So he did, then recoiled as if he'd discovered a snake in the bottom of the case. "Uh, boss..?"
Kuklinski shot a glare toward us then hurried over to the hood of his car where the briefcase sat. Upon seeing the inside, he gave a furious growl and clawed the remaining bills out onto the floor. Whatever was on the bottom of that briefcase really didn't make him too happy.
He swept the case onto the concrete and spun to face us, pulling a gun of his own.
"Where the fuck is she?" he demanded, face red, "Where is Teresa?"
Things were getting interesting.
The Joker laughed and shook his head, "Well she's not here; that's for sure. It'd be a shame if she found out what Daddy really did to keep her supplied with lollipops and dollies."
"If you touch so much as one hair on her head, I'll-"
"Now now." The Joker grinned madly and I realized he was holding a gun of his own, though I don't know where or when he got it. How many hidden pockets did he have?
Kuklinski was breathing heavily in his rage, eyes wide and glassy. It seemed Daddy really loved his little girl. After a moment he shook his head. "We were even!" he exclaimed incredulously, "This made us square, what are you doing?!"
I didn't say it, but I had the same question. What was he doing, pissing off mob bosses?
Mr. J sighed and moved forward, heedless of the gun aimed strait at his chest. I guess we all knew Richard Kuklinski couldn't shoot him. Not if he wanted his sweet, little Teresa back.
"Ya see, Dick, I don't really want to be even. I like the thought of you doing ex-act-ly what I tell you so that little Teresa comes home without all those nasty acid burns."
Kuklinski's expression showed unadulterated terror at the casual threat and his gun slowly dropped to dangle uselessly at his side. The Joker (dragging me in tow) walked right up beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as the man stared blankly out at the ground.
"So that's the real trade here, Dick. You and your boys there are gunna work for me now, understood? We're gunna be the best of friends and then, maybe Teresa can come home and we'll pretend none of this eeeever happened. Hmm?"
The mobster, looking very much like a lost child about now, closed his eyes and drew a shaky breath, "Ok..just please…don't hurt her."
Mr. J clapped him on the back with an amiable chuckle. "Well that's en-tirely up to you, isn't it…buddy?"
I almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost. But this is what happened when you did business with the Joker and didn't cover your bases. Family was always the first to be sacrificed, and that was code with all criminals, not just my Puddin'.
Kuklinski shrugged out of the Joker's grip to glare at his chest, jaw clenched until I could make out the vein ticking there. His knuckles were white in there fists and he waited like the good little puppet he was now for orders. Of course, Mr. J let him simmer a bit before he laughed and nodded toward the sleek sports car beyond us.
"Go home to that pretty little wife of yours, Dicky-boy. I'm sure she could use a little reassurance right about now."
"And what exactly can I tell her?" he grit out.
Mr. J shrugged, fiddling with my leash absently. "I'm sure you'll think of something. You always do." Then he laughed. "Maybe you could convince her to start fresh. Teresa Mark 2." More laughter and he blatantly ignored the look of seething hatred directed at him from Kuklinski. The man couldn't touch him, and we all knew it.
The men waited for us to get into the van before lowering their guns and I glimpsed Kuklinski in his car, gazing at what must have been the picture from the brief case, just before the door slid shut and encased us in near darkness. I moved to sit in the bench seat, but yelped when the choke collar snapped tight around my throat and I was forced onto my knees before the Joker. He'd wrapped the chain around his forearm and now held me up on my knees with a sneer.
"You," he hissed as I struggled to breathe and keep his gaze, "are in biiig trouble."
Alec started the van, after a quick sympathetic glance into the rearview mirror and I blinked away tears.
Seems Kuklinski wasn't the only one that was going to have a hard night.
