Author's Note:

Sorry I haven't posted! My laptop wasn't working properly, but when I finally got it to work I had to go on a road trip with my family and I brought my laptop but I just didn't have the time. I'm so, so sorry and I'll try my best to get back on track.

*Chapter 12*

Got Your Number

Serena Ryder

I don't love you no more
I got twenty twenty

Got your number, got your number

Charlie leaned in to kiss her, but Harley shoved him away forcefully, "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed. Charlie went wild-eyed, the attention of the customers in the store staring at the pair. If that wasn't enough, a woman holding a yellow dress recognized Harley.

"It's Harleen Quinzel!" the woman yelled, pointing at the blonde who was at the verge of bloodthirst. Harley's face was the color of a ripe pomegranate as she grabbed Charlie's wrist and pulled him out of the boutique. She could hear police sirens in the distance and the drips of cold Gotham rain hitting the broken concrete.

"See what you did? Now I have to bring you with me!" Harley snapped, slapping Charlie. He didn't flinch. He was still standing straight, not doing anything even when Harley pounded her fists against his chest as hard as she could.

"Stop." He said sweetly. It wasn't a demand, he didn't care if she kept this up, but he'd like her to stop. Harley spit in his face and grabbed his wrist again, storming off with Charlie trying to keep up with her fast pace. She turned down an alley and pushed him against a brick wall.

"I'm getting out of here," she spat, "If you can't follow, have fun with the GCPD." She quickly let down her hair and wiped off her makeup covering her tattoos. Charlie's jaw dropped seeing her hair and tattoos. He had realized her skin was paler than it was before, but originally he thought it was because of her lack of nutrients or something… normal. But no, this was something else.

Harley climbed onto a dumpster in the alleyway and jumped, grabbing onto a pipe that she pulled herself up until she was on top of the building. She looked down at Charlie below her, rolling her eyes at him. She let out a maniacal laugh and jumped from rooftop to rooftop, searching for a sign of an opened car.

Eventually, she made it home, making sure to text J whenever it felt like it'd been half an hour. She arrived at the hideout and pushed open the door. She hurried up to the bedroom and stripped off her street clothes. She slid on a set of purple lingerie- J's favorite color – and headed down the grand staircase as there was a loud knock on the door, followed with the sound of the doorbell. She figured it was her Puddin', so she stopped and ran into the downstairs bathroom, digging about for lipstick. She found an almost empty tube of lip gloss that was tinted red and put it on. She quickly ran over to the door and opened it. To her disappointment, there stood a smiling Charlie. Harley's once-happy expression faded into a grim one. She started to shut the door put Charlie put his foot between the door and the wall, stopping it from closing. She opened it again.

"Charlie, you're being a pest." She giggled, keeping the grim expression, "and now you know where I live. Should I kill you, Charlie? Would you like that?"

"No," Charlie said cheerily.

"I think you would. Wait here." Harley warned, shutting the door in his face without warning. She dug through a table near the door until she pulled out a knife. She smiled, looking at her reflection in the polished blade. She put her arm behind her back and opened the door, "Sorry, the cat was meowing."

"I didn't hear a cat?" He questioned.

"Well, you won't be hearing anything in a minute." She said in a sing-song tone.

"Wha- "he started. Harley pulled her arm out from behind her back and dug the knife into Charlie's chest. She let go of it and watched him closely, smiling. She wanted to be the last thing all her victims saw.

When she was sure he was gone for good, she plucked the knife out of his chest wiped it off on her opposite arm from where she was holding the knife. Sure, it was nice having a 'friend', but Charlie was annoying, and he tried to kiss her. If J was there, his death would've been ever slower, more painful, and everyone would know about it. Harley reached over and took Charlie's phone and wallet off of his person. She went through his phone until she got to a contact that read 'Mum'. She sent her a message;

Charlie's Mum

"Hey, Mum, I'm moving to Gotham. Sorry it's so last minute. I've been planning this for a while but I was scared to tell you. I wanna start fresh. Can you send my things to my apartment? I'll text you the address in a bit. Thanks, and tell all my friends and the family that I'm disowning them."

From Charlie's Mum

"What the fuck, Charlie?"

Charlie's Mum

"Bye!"

Harley then sent the address and took the SIM card out of Charlie's phone. She brought the phone to the indoor shooting range where she shot it once and threw it in the trash, placing the sim card inside an old duffel bag that J never went near, since it reminded him of the old days. She left the body in front of the door, knowing J would question her about it. If she just played it cool and told him it was some perv following her, he'd be proud of her work and then they'd have the henchmen dispose of Charlie.

Harley heard the door click open and she smiled, lust and bloodthirst filling her ocean blue eyes. She saw a snow-white hand push open the door and her suspicions were confirmed.

"Harley?" J hummed, "Why is there a dead man on our doorsteps?" his eyes hit her and realized how she was dressed. Her bleach blonde hair was in perfectly centered pigtails, the purple lingerie catching his eyes. The way his favorite color looked against her white skin was a masterpiece in its self. The blood rubbed onto her arm and the knife being held triumphantly in her small hand pushed him over the edge.

"Take a picture, J," she purred, "It'll last longer." He pulled out his phone, and did, in fact, take a picture of her. Harley laughed and he shook his head as a smile covered his face. His stress from work was forgotten.

"Answer my question, baby." He demanded in a light, sing-song tone.

"It was just some perv following me home," J's eyes filled with lust, happiness and pure jealousy, "but I killed him. I thought to myself, 'What would Mistah J do?'" the jealousy vanished and he let out a sigh of relief, "And so I did what my Pud' would do."

J shut the door and rushed over to Harley, throwing her over his shoulder, "You're such a good, good girl. A perfect little girl." He spanked her playfully, "But you should've waited for Daddy."

"But I thought you'd be proud," she giggled, "But I guess I should've." He was smiling one of the purest smiles he'd had in forever while Harley rambled on, "So are ya gonna punish me, Mistah J?"

"Oh, yes." He growled in impatience, running up the steps, Harley's legs bouncing against his chest.

To be continued...