Chapter 7: Addiction
Would you kill for me?
"We just gonna leave her here, boss?" The voice sounded almost concerned to Harley's ears and she shook with silent amusement… or was it fear? She couldn't tell the difference in that moment, not with all her emotions warring for dominance. She blinked her eyes as she slowly came to, unsure of how long she had been unconscious.
The gag was carefully removed from her mouth and she breathed in the fresh scents of mint, smokebombs and leather. Bright lights danced in the corner of her vision and she yanked hard at the straps on her limbs, impatient to be free of her restraints.
"Shhhhhh, careful there honey," a silky voice purred. "Wouldn't wanna leave a mark."
A gentle caress on her inner arm had Harley quivering as the restraints on her wrists were gradually peeled away and she turned her head towards the owner of that melodic voice.
Mister J.
The Joker grinned at her, his hand coming up to support her back as she slowly sat up. "Easy now," he murmured encouragingly, moving to the straps at her ankles and removing those as well. She watched in fascination as he stretched out a hand toward her face, eyes alight with anticipation…
"Boss?"
The Joker's smile quickly fell from his face and he rounded on the persistent henchman. An abrupt backhand sent him sprawling backward, the rings on the Joker's hand slicing open the man's cheek as he grunted in pain.
"Can't you see we're having a moment?" The Joker growled, chastising the man as though he were a child. His gaze quickly returned to Harley who was watching the exchange with morbid curiosity. Her fingers twitched and she reached up toward her face, tracing a phantom wound down her cheek.
"I bet that hurts," she spoke at last, eyes glued to the blood as it dripped down the man's chin. Her lips pulled back in a delighted smile and she looked at Mister J questioningly. "Can I have a turn?"
The Joker held his arm out, inviting her to try. To his credit, the henchman did not flinch. Perhaps he thought a hit from a girl wouldn't hurt that much. That made Harley mad. She glared at the man, intent to prove him wrong as she pulled her arm back and smacked him as hard as she could across the face. Her hand shook a little, the after effects of the shock therapy, but she landed a solid hit.
No one made a move to stop her and she felt a slight thrill when she managed to snap the man's head to the side. But that was all. There was no satisfaction, just a quick cheap thrill. Harley frowned. She curled her hand into a fist this time and hit him again across the other cheek. His head snapped back again but still she felt unfulfilled. She huffed in frustration.
"It's not enough, is it?" The Joker watched her in amusement and she nodded in response. "Something's missing."
Something cool and metal slipped into her fingers and Harley stared at the weapon that Mister J had placed into her hand. It was a small slip of a blade but it would do the trick; it only needed to pierce skin. She stared at it for a moment, hesitation plainly written across her features.
"Now try it." The Joker watched her closely, eyes trained on the weapon in her hand, waiting to see if she would use it.
Harley looked at the man again and saw that he was afraid now. He swallowed reflexively, eyes darting between her, the blade and the Joker. Yet still, he made no sound of protest. A hard hand curled around hers and Harley trembled as Mister J forced her off the table by her arm. She stumbled a step before finding her footing, her hand clasped in his as Mister J directed the knife towards his henchman.
"Do it." His voice was harsh, commanding and Harley impulsively wanted to obey. But this was too much. She turned to the Joker defiantly, yanking her hand from his and lifting her chin stubbornly.
"I don't want to."
A tick appeared in his jawline. "Then you'll stay here until you do."
He jerked his head towards the door and his men immediately started to file out including the goon whose life he'd threatened only moments before. None of them said a word or even questioned him. Mister J kept his eyes trained on her until the last man disappeared through the doorway before turning to accompany them. Harley blinked in confusion, her heels clicking as she moved to instinctively follow him.
"No, no Harley." Mister J turned around, wagging his finger at her and she paused. "You stay here."
"But Mister J…" Harley began to protest.
"You stay here until you've learned your lesson." His words rang with finality.
"To kill someone?" The words tasted bitter in her mouth.
The Joker ran a hand slowly down her cheek, almost a caress, before seizing her neck in a vice. "To kill for me."
Then he shoved her backward, her hip connecting painfully with the table as she crumpled to the ground. She let out a soft cry at the impact and something strange flitted across his face. He took a step toward her but Harley flinched away from him, fearing further punishment. He let out a growl of annoyance, his coat nearly whipping her in the face as he strode purposefully from the room.
She didn't follow him.
Why would she?
It didn't take Harley long to seek out other thrills. From the moment Mister J had left her, there'd been an undeniable thrill for the unattainable that threatened to claw its way out of her. Not a thrill for the kill but definitely an unrelenting urge to dance with the devil. This thought occurred to her even now as she rubbed herself against some pretty boy dressed as a demon. For Halloween, she'd opted to dress as an angel. As if they even existed. Her wings sparkled with glittery perfection, the delicate gauze nearly ripping as they tangled in between the mess of bodies.
But it wasn't enough.
It had been weeks and still she'd seen no sign of Mister J. She'd seen enough cops to last her a lifetime and, criminal or not, she now understood their infuriating persistence. They'd yet to link her to the asylum attacks but she knew it was just a matter of time. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd had to lie about her statement; and she was becoming increasingly good at it.
To pass the time, she'd been coming to Club Ace for the past few nights, intent on seeking out her maker but he'd made no appearance. The Joker was like a drug that refused to leave her system and she was desperate for another fix. She gritted her teeth in frustration as wandering hands danced as little too low for her liking. Seizing the guy's wrists, she placed them firmly against her hips as she grinded and moved to the music. Her short white dress was attracting all manner of the wrong crowd but Harley stuck with the man she'd selected from the beginning. She didn't need a throng of groupies. She just needed him.
Here I stand, helpless and left for dead
Close your eyes, so many days go by
Easy to find what's wrong, harder to find what's right
I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all you empty lies
I won't stay long, in this world so wrong.
She was at breaking point, desperate for any sighting of him that she even tried to envision the man she was dancing with was him. But none of it fit. There were no tattoos, no red lips or twinkle of the eye. There was no addictive darkness. Even the scents were all wrong as the smell of alcohol drowned out everything else. She found herself getting angry, furious even that Mister J had left her in this state. He dealt out punishment as he saw fit yet refused to show himself when she was so clearly seeking his attention.
She pressed herself harder against the guy that was glued to her back, so hard that it bordered on painful yet he made no complaints. His hands dug into her hips just as painfully. His nose was in her hair and Harley shuddered in disgust, about to shove him off when all of a sudden he slumped against her. Harley yelped, unable to support his weight as they began to topple. Had he passed out?
Another pair of hands seized her from behind, dragging her out of the man's arms and towards a waiting booth. A terrifying flashback swamped her vision and Harley fought the hands that held her.
"No!" she protested, whirling to shove her hands into her assailant's throat. She caught a whiff of smoke bombs and leather and she froze, her eyes darting up to her attacker.
"Mister J?" She'd never seen him so livid. She spared a quick glance for the guy she'd been dancing with; he was flanked by two bodyguards as they "escorted" him from the dance floor. Her stomach dropped when she recognised the man's fate but she held her ground. This was what she came for. The Joker pushed her behind the curtain into the private section, away from prying eyes before rounding on her.
"You tryin' to make a habit of this?" His lips were bared in a snarl.
"Did you… is he dead?" Harley knew the answer but she needed confirmation.
"He will be soon."
Harley held her breath, her eyes lighting up expectantly.
The Joker stared at her for a moment before it finally clicked.
"He doesn't count."
Her heart stuttered. "W-what?"
The Joker leaned closer, his arms coming up to imprison her between his body and the wall.
"Bringing him here," he murmured in her ear. "Marking him for me. Clever. But he's not your kill."
Harley frowned in disappointment. "Why not?"
"Pointing the gun isn't the same as pulling the trigger, Harley," he chuckled against her neck and she gasped when he delivered a soft bite to her collarbone. His tongue and lips immediately laved at the mark, sucking harshly in a manner that would leave a very prominent hickey.
Harley's hands came up to twine in his hair as she surrendered to the sensation. She nuzzled into his neck as he attacked her collarbone, eliciting soft gasps of appreciation from her throat. If she could just keep him focused on-
He pulled away just as suddenly, laughing quietly when she mewled in protest. "You haven't paid the fare yet." He shook his head at her. "You're so close."
"I can do it, Mister J" she breathed, nearly believing it herself. "I can kill for you."
His response sent delicious chills down her spine. "Find me when you do, baby."
Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight.
Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight.
