CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

On a rainy Autumn night, she was

Samantha checked her pockets, even checked the bag. Nothing.

I had them when I left the room. And then Crane got me and.........

"Crane," she muttered. "You patch-faced sonofabitch. You got my keys didn't you? You took them."

She almost went to her knees, right there on the roadside, but she forced herself to keep going towards the motel. There was no reason for it but she had to go somewhere. The unseen pursuer stalked her, just out of view. Jack, of course it was. She found a perverse satisfaction in that knowledge but also trepidation.

He probably won't fool around the motel. Surely he knows there's cops keeping an eye on the place and anyway he's being hunted. He can't blend in. He'll stick out like a sore thumb.

She'd go to her car and figure something out. If she had to she'd go another night. Jack would stay away. He wouldn't expose himself. He would stay away.

She kept repeating those things to herself as she made her way to the motel. She reached the deserted parking lot and still she could feel him following her.

"Go away Jack," she called, not looking over her shoulder. "Leave me alone."

The only response was a snicker and hurried footsteps. Right behind her now, in the open for anyone to see. She could picture him trailing behind her and wanted to turn around. To see him. Horror raced through her and she knew it wasn't for herself. It was for him. He could be seen, the cops would come and that would be it. Maybe this time they'd kill him.

Don't be stupid, he knows exactly what he's doing. Don't worry about him. He's using how you feel to control you. Run. Hide. Get away from him.

Her voice of reason whispered these things to her but she couldn't listen. She could hear her breath coming hard and fast, feel the pain in her side from running. She was exhausted, barely able to walk anymore.

He's come to tell you the deal's off.

That thought, entering her mind unbidden, finally made her stop. She whirled around, half expecting to see nothing.

And there he was, only a few feet away. His gaze roved over her, then over the duffel bag.

"Hi." He said mildly, as if nothing had ever happened. It was as if they were two normal people who had merely run into each other on the street.

"Go away," she whispered harshly. "Do you want to get caught? Why don't you just leave me alone?"

He tilted his head quizzically. The neon lights made him look unearthly. It had begun to rain, the water was making a mess of his greasepaint. She thought how she'd always liked the way he looked when the paint was smeared. It made him look evil. Demonic. And she loved it.

"That's not gonna happen Sam," he said softly. The contrast between his somber tone and his grinning face was unnerving. "So stop saying it. And of course I don't want to get caught....so let's get this over with, hm?"

"What do you mean, get it over with?"

He waved a hand through the air. "This whole thing. Uh, between us. I came to help you out tonight y'know. And you ran from me." His jaw worked, as if containing a sudden rage. "Ran!"

He broke into a high-pitched keening laugh, as if the thought of her running away was hilarious, and then just as quickly his serious demeanor returned.

"Do you really think after everything I've told you and the things you know, that you can just get out?" His eyes hardened and his tone turned to ice. "Do you?"

"We've been over this. We had a deal," she answered. "Now you're going to......."

"I'm not going to do anything. You are."

Samantha shook her head helplessly. "What the hell are you talking about Jack?"

He's crazy Sam. He probably doesn't even know what he's talking about.

Using the name brought an instant reaction from him. A couple of long steps and his face was inches from hers. "For the thousandth time stop calling me that. It isn't even my real name. Now, do you remember what I told you about my parents? About what I did to them?"

His breath was hot on her face. It brought up things she didn't care to think about at the moment.

"Yes."

He studied her keenly. "Good. You're a good listener. Means you care, right? Hm, well maybe we won't go that far. Anyway, I want you to find a computer. Do a little research."

She knew what he meant and marvelled at how self-absorbed and coy he could be sometimes. "Why can't you just tell me?"

"Because I can't."

His hands had clamped over her shoulders, holding her fast. Samantha looked into those soulless eyes, then his mouth, then back up again. Something in her expression must have excited him because he moved closer, until their bodies were touching.

"There's one of those internet cafes nearby. Open twenty four seven," she heard herself saying. "Or I can go to the library tomorrow."

"Mm-hm."

One hand left her shoulder and rested on the small of her back. She could feel him now and it didn't matter that they were in a public place, right there in the open for anyone to see. She looked away from his face to try and break the spell. It didn't work.

"I can't drive anywhere," she murmured, feeling foolish. "My car keys. Crane has them."

"Not a problem. Check in a few hours. I'll have them in the glove box. Unless you want me to bring 'em to your room. Would you like that? Hm?"

The hand on the small of her back crept lower and squeezed roughly. That did it. She couldn't take it anymore. She crushed her lips onto his and he responded with a growl. His tongue darted into her mouth and at that moment she would have done anything he'd wanted. Anything. Without realizing it she grabbed handfuls of his coat.

"Yes," she whispered when they broke away. "I would."

Oh my God what am I doing? Am I crazy? Probably. Can't help it.

He laughed and began to walk away.

"Oh, by the way Sam." He called out, mirth fairly bleeding from his voice.

"Yeah?" She felt a little dazed, as if she'd just woke up.

"Our deal? It's off. Gone."

He slouched off into the rain, back the way he'd come. She watched him as he disappeared from sight.

"I am crazy," she whispered, wiping the make-up from her face. "A crazy fucking fool."

A/N: I can't help but laugh at Sam in this chapter. She got played and played hard.

Anyway, this chapter name was a take on a story called "On a Beautiful Summer's Day, He Was" by Robert McCammon. It's about the Joker's childhood and goes along with my theory on him, that being he was born the way he is. A bad seed you could say. A very bad one. Anyway if anyone knows where I can get this story (for free *cough*) please send me a PM.