Note: This chapter contains references to self-harm and scars. Please don't read if these are triggers for you. Feel free to skip to the page break 3/4th of the way! You won't miss much except smut.

I'm out of my head
 Of my heart and my mind
 Cause you can run but you can't hide
 I'm gonna make you mine

My body, my mind, my entire existence was exhausted. I couldn't remember falling asleep on that threadbare, dingy couch but I woke several hours later in nearly the same position I had drifted off. The muscles in my lower back were stiff and a small spot on my stomach-exactly where I had been cut by his knife- was stinging as I shifted.

I stretched my legs out and put a palm to my forehead, swallowing down a groan. I didn't want to move, didn't want to open my eyes and still be on that couch, in that office. But unless I had died in my sleep, I knew that was where I would be. Eventually, my eyes would open and I would see that table across the room.

The same table his plans were strewn across, the place I had been laying when he finally broke me.

No. I wasn't going to think about it.

Despite the fact that I was still trapped in this warehouse and forced to be here against my will, I refused to dwell on what we had done-what I had let him do. I had to get up and leave. If they tried to stop me, I would just have to fight.

The longer I stayed here, lying sore and bruised on this couch, the harder it would be to get out of here. And if the door was still unlocked, then I had a good chance of sneaking out and running.

He'd find you, a voice in the back of my head reminded me, making me shiver. And you'd want him to. I buried my head further into the couch and inhaled through my nose, bringing the stale scent of the couch along with the faint traces of him. It made my stomach flutter and I clenched my fists, wishing I never had taken that catering job.

For weeks, that scent had followed me and had become a part of me that I feared I'd never get rid of. And worst of all, I inhaled again, dragging in a deep breath that expanded my lungs until I had his scent buried deeper inside me. I wanted it to consume me.

Across the room, a clink of metal and the unmistakable sound of a sigh snapped my eyes open. Through the haze of my sleep still clinging to me, I hadn't realized that I wasn't alone in the room. It was dim, with the only light coming from the direction I still didn't want to look.

There was no point in even trying to pretend he wasn't there. I could feel him and how my body responded to his nearness. I turned my head and peered over the arm of the couch and found him at that table. His rolled-up blueprints and plans, the knives and marker from earlier were gone and I could see only four things that took their place.

Laid out in front of him were three metal tins, one with the lid off already. A mirror with a large chunk of the corner missing leaned against the wall and in the dingy, cracked glass, I could see his reflection. The face paint that he had smeared across my mouth and throat was faded and streaked across his lips and the white looked as if it had been wiped off a bit.

All that remained intact was the black darkening his eyes. And as I laid there, trying to be as still as I could be, Joker lifted his gaze to the mirror and met my stare. I wanted to look away, wanted to shrink back down into the cushions of the couch, and pretend he didn't notice me, but I couldn't. All I could do was stare.

I watched him swipe his fingers into the tin of greasepaint and when he lifted them, I could see the tips were white with paint. The air froze in my lungs as he looked at me in the mirror once again. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and gravelly.

"See something you like, sweetheart?"

Hearing him call me that no longer disgusted me the way it once had. In fact, it sent a wave of butterflies fluttering against the inside of my stomach. Slowly, I sat up and quietly cleared my throat. There was no way I was going to answer him so instead, I took in the rest of his body. His usual stringy hair looked as if it were wet though it was hard to tell. He had half of it pulled back.

He had on those same, tacky pants as he always did but his button-up shirt was open and hanging loosely from his shoulders. Beneath it was a white tank top and in the reflection of the mirror, I could see where it came to on his chest.

It was more of him than I had ever seen and I realized that I was holding my breath as I stared at him. Did I like it? Was that what this heat inside me meant? I was actually attracted to a facepaint wearing, terrorist psycho. And attraction was an understatement.

I ached for him.

Inside me, whether it was in my head or my heart, something was still clinging to the initial revulsion I felt for him. It held onto it for dear life even though with each passing moment I spent near him, that disgust and loathing was slipping away.

I didn't like him.

I hated him.

But there was such a thin line between hate and desire and at this point, it was razor thin for me.

Joker dipped his fingers back into the paint and brought it to his cheeks, smearing the white grease across the planes of his face and down his jaw. I followed his movements with my eyes. It was only when his tongue darted out against the corner of his lips did I blink myself out of the daze he had pulled me into.

I turned and stared at the door of the office instead. Things were quiet on the other side of it and I wondered what time it was. I didn't feel as if I had slept for long. Perhaps it was late, or even early in the morning. Not knowing was almost as disorienting as being in the same room as him.

With a small sigh, I sat up on the couch and winced at the protest from my sore muscles. There was movement from the table but I didn't let myself glance that way. I stood, my bare feet on the cold concrete floor making me shiver. I smoothed my skirt around my legs, still mourning the loss of my panties. Remembering what he had done to them made me frown and I turned to the couch where I had balled up the remnants of my shirt and bra into a makeshift pillow.

Where the hell were my panties?

This time I turned to face him and tilted my head to the side. "Where are my panties?"

In the mirror, I saw the corner of his lips twitch before he licked them. "You don't remember? I'm hurt."

"I remember what you did to them but...where are they now?"

He didn't answer me and I didn't exactly expect him to. There were only a few reasons as to why they were missing and I highly doubted they were just thrown away. Either he had them or...The thought of any of those other men coming in and finding them disgusted me. I shuddered and folded my arms over my chest.

Joker popped the lid back onto the tin of white paint and pushed it to the side, reaching instead for one of the other ones. When the top came off, I blinked at the bright red on the inside. There was a dip in the center from being used and once again, I felt mesmerized while watching him.

He dipped his middle finger into the paint and I didn't have to look in the mirror to feel his stare cutting right through me. The scars on either side of his mouth twitched as he smirked and I watched him swipe the paint across his bottom lip.

"You know, sweetheart, you've never asked me about my scars." The deepness of his voice startled me and I blinked, quickly looking away as if I were a child being scolded. "Wanna know how I got 'em?"

Slowly, I shifted my gaze back to meet his and watched as he spread the paint up the side of his scars. It settled in the deep fissures, brightening the Glasgow smile with the blood-red streaks and making them look fresh. My stomach clenched at the sight of them and I wanted to look away, but I didn't.

Joker wiped his fingers on the knees of his pants and turned in the chair, draping an arm over the back of it as he stared at me. Beneath his scrutiny, I felt naked and the need to cover myself was making my skin prickle with goosebumps. He lifted one hand and curled his fingers, gesturing for me to come closer.

If my head was in charge of my body, I would have stayed rooted to the spot. But I was no longer in control of myself. He was.

My steps were slow and I stopped once my knees were directly in front of his. He stared up at me for a lingering second before his gaze dropped from my eyes to my chest. It skated down my body, taking in the sight of my wrinkled dress, and when his eyes lifted to meet mine again, the look on his face startled me.

Just the sight of it sent waves of heat coursing through me, completely erasing any of the chills from earlier. Slowly, never taking his eyes off of mine, Joker stood from the chair until he towered over me. Without the multiple parts of his suit, he somehow felt bigger, as if the many layers of fabric contained him.

Now he was free and I felt very much like a helpless, frightened animal.

The sharp click of a knife opening made my eyes close but I could still see him behind my eyelids. When he touched the cold steel to my collar bone, I barely flinched. As dangerous as he was, as terrified of him that I was, I didn't think he would hurt me too badly.

"I had a lover once, beautiful girl but-" He smacked his lips, making me open my eyes to find him staring down at me with a strange expression on his face. "She was a little crazy. You see, she loved knives-probably more than I do. Had a fetish for them."

The blade slipped beneath the thin strap of my dress and I flinched at the scrape of the tip across my shoulder. He didn't cut the strap but guided it down the curve of my shoulder until it fell away. His gaze moved to my chest as he traced the length of my throat with the knife's edge.

"She was covered in scars. Some worse than these-" he paused to flash a quick, humorless smile and I blinked at his mouth. "-And she would tell me how much she loved my body, how much she loved my blank canvas. She wanted to leave scars all over me. One night, when we were in bed she took things too far-cut her wrists, cut her throat, and begged me to cut myself. So I took the razor. I stick it in my mouth like this-"

I shut my eyes tight as he pushed the blade between my lips. The tip caught on my tooth but I opened my jaw to let him stick the knife against my cheek. It tasted metallic and I was instantly reminded of the blood from the cut on my lip. Joker brought his other hand to my throat and squeezed tight enough to make my eyes snap open.

He ducked his head to get eye level with me, searching my face, searching deep within me for the answer to a question I would never know. Though I didn't let my gaze leave his, I could see his scars lift with a smile. The tip of his tongue flashed as he licked his lips and stepped even closer to me.

The hold he had on my throat tightened just enough to make me gasp and my hands caught him by the wrist.

"How do you think I did, Natalie? Hmm?"

My breath was fast and shallow. It was hard to breathe around his hand and the blade pressing against my mouth was making panic start to prick like ice against my chest. I tried to pull his hand away from me, but it wouldn't budge.

"You think she would have liked 'em? See, she never got the chance to see my work. Never got the chance to admire her influence. Maybe I should leave my mark on you now, hmm? Would you like that?"

"No," I managed to gasp around the knife pressing harder against my cheek. "Please."

Joker closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose as if to savor the sound of me begging him to stop. He shook his head and smacked his lips before staring down at me once more.

"You should know by now how much I like it when you beg." With another deep breath, he pulled the blade out of my mouth. "Take off your dress."

"No...I-I don't want to." Tears burned the corners of my eyes and I tried to blink them away before he could see them. Again, he ducked his head and searched my eyes and I could tell by the scowl on his face he didn't like being told no.

"You can take it off. Or I can cut it off." With that, he let go of my neck and I took a stumbling step away from him, reaching out to brace myself against the corner of the table. My hand flew to my throat and I rubbed at the bruised flesh. "Your choice, sweetheart."

Fuck.

I hated him so much.

With every fiber of my being, I wished he was dead.

As he took a step back and once again lowered himself into the chair, parting his legs wide and draping an arm over the back of it to look as aloof and casual as he could, I glared at him. He stared back at me with a look of mild interest-one that told me I would do well to keep his interest if I didn't want him to hurt me.

Quickly, I swiped the tears away from my eyes and pulled my arms out of the straps of my dress. It had been months, possibly over a year since the last time I had been fully naked in front of someone, and knowing it was him that would see it now was infuriating. I wanted to scream at him, to fight, to inflict as much pain that I could on him.

But I didn't.

I was no longer in control of myself and while the hate and fury and disgust was strong inside me, those feelings weren't alone. Heat flushed my skin from the tips of my toes to my scalp and my fingers trembled with anticipation as I pulled at the material of my dress. It fell to the floor at my feet in a quiet swish of fabric and I darted my eyes away from him.

I didn't want to see the look on his face.

I didn't exactly have to. I could feel the way he looked at me and my body responded against the wishes of my head. My nipples hardened and I crossed my arms over my chest in an attempt to hide myself.

Joker clucked his tongue in disappointment and gestured toward me with the knife in his hand. It was clear he wanted me to take my hands away but I didn't. I hated this vulnerable feeling, hated the way it made my skin crawl. My entire body was wound tight with nervous energy and the only way it could get rid of it was to tremble like a frightened little bunny.

Somehow, I knew that was exactly what he saw me as.

I was the rabbit and he was the wolf and he had me right between his jaws. When he spoke, I flinched and shut my eyes.

"You just gonna stand there all night, sweetheart?"

Sighing, I looked down at him and tried to decide between giving in right away or putting up a fight. I'd come this far, standing naked in front of him, and now I wanted to fight? Nothing made sense to me anymore.

All I knew was that I was fed up with this game.

"Why don't you tell me what I should do? That's what you like to do so much, right? Well, go ahead."

The roll of his eyes made me brace myself for what was to come, and when he took his arm away from the back of his chair to sit up, I took a step back. Even when I tried my hardest to stand up to him, my fear got the best of me.

Joker sat forward and stared up at me, the black paint around his eyes making him look dangerous and volatile and I knew it would only end in tragedy if I kept resisting him like this. And not just because he would ultimately grow tired of me and end this...whatever it was. But it was exhausting keeping up this charade.

As if I didn't want him.

As if I wasn't already dripping wet between my legs.

As if I wouldn't do exactly what he wanted me to.

The slow curl of his lips told me he knew it. He set the knife down on the table beside him and shifted on the chair, sitting with his legs wide open before he lounged back again. With one hand, he patted his thigh and I couldn't help my eyes widening.

"Sit."

It was such a simple command but it echoed in my head over and over. The muscles in my legs twitched as if to ask what the hell was taking me so long to obey him. My body was ready to do as he asked but my head...it was clinging desperately to the hope that I didn't want this. That I would come to my senses any second.

I took a deep breath that shuddered through my chest and slowly moved toward him until I was between his knees. He didn't offer a hand to pull me down or threaten me with another wave of the knife. He was waiting for me to make the move myself. I could either keep fighting...or I could give in and obey.

He arched an eyebrow, challenging me and inviting me in all at once and I didn't know whether I wanted to slap him or kiss him more. Against my better judgment, I lifted my foot and slid it over his thigh, slowly lowering myself until I was sitting astride his lap. And even when I reached to steady myself with a fist curled around the fabric of his shirt, he didn't lift a hand to touch me.

From this position, I was able to look down at him just a bit and I watched as his eyes fell from my face down to my bare chest and my legs parted around him. The look on his face should have disgusted me but I was transfixed instead.

There was so much darkness in his gaze but for once, I could see something else as well; desire and heat and the lust mirrored in my own face. It made my skin sizzle beneath his scrutiny and my toes curled.

Joker inhaled through his nose and gave a small sound of satisfaction that did nothing to help the sweltering heat inside me. My body was practically begging to feel him inside me, twitching and trembling with every breath I took until I couldn't take it anymore.

I shifted on his lap, pressing my core into him and despite the stretch of fabric between our bodies, the hard press of his cock was obvious. A groan vibrated my throat and I clamped my teeth together to swallow it down but it was too late. He heard it and knew in an instant how good it felt for me to grind against him.

"Liked that, did you?" The growl of his voice only turned me on more and I slid a hand up to his shoulder. Desire clouded my vision but I could still see one arm hanging at his side while the other laid along the length of the table. His fingers slowly toyed with the switchblade, spinning it absently and I swallowed back a whimper.

Why wasn't he touching me? Couldn't he see how badly I wanted it?

I knew he wasn't touching me because he knew how badly I wanted him to and it was pure torture. And if I didn't want to feel more of that torturous pleasure, I would have stood up and walked away from him. He knew it, too. I could see it in the way he watched me, drinking in the sight of my chest rising and falling with every shuddering breath.

Too fed up with my inaction, my body moved on its own and I shut my eyes as I rolled my hips over him again. The length of his cock fit against my center and I let out a breath, wishing I was brave enough to reach down and free him from his pants. My hands stayed where they were, gripping his shoulder with one while the other pressed against his chest.

Beneath my palm, I could feel the beat of his heart and it matched the pounding of my own. It sent a flash of heat through me and I made the mistake of lifting my gaze to his. Slowly, Joker slid his hand up the length of my thigh, raking his nails over my skin until he found my hips. I held my breath, waiting for the bruising grip to take me and he found the same spots on my flesh he had used hours before.

They were still tender and I winced as his fingers dug into them once more but the pain wasn't enough to make me stop. It only added to the pleasure.

With his hand guiding me, I repeated the same movements of my hips-grinding into him, savoring the friction between us. His fingers squeezed harder, urging me to move faster and I obeyed.

I no longer tried to hold back my sounds. I offered each whimper and every moan up to him like an offering.

The hand he kept on the table, the one holding onto his blade, fell away and I opened my eyes just enough to see him bring the tip of the knife to my chest. He traced the curve of my breast and I jerked away. The hold he had on my hip didn't let me get far and he quickly shifted it to my back, pulling me even closer to him.

A noise left my throat, something between whining and moaning, and Joker's lips twitched into a wicked smile. "You know, sweetheart," he said quietly, his voice barely evident on his breath. "I like you in this position. Let's me see the blank canvas I can work with."

I recalled the words he had said earlier, the story about his scars, and it should have been a blinding red flag. But with rose-tinted glasses fogged by lust, I not only didn't do anything about it...I didn't want to.

I let him drag the blade between my breasts and down the center of my ribcage and all the while, I never let up my pace. It felt too good-I was too close to stop. My breath left my lips in quick puffs and the coil of tension was tight within me.

"Natalie," the sound of my name on his lips startled me and I sucked in a sharp breath. "Look at me."

Slowly, I opened my eyes. A frown of frustration pinched my brows and I dug my nails into his shoulder. I searched his eyes and that unfathomable darkness should have terrified me. My body didn't care about the fear anymore. It wanted one thing and I was so close to getting it.

"Are you going to come, Natalie?"

I could only nod.

"Ah, I don't think you've earned that yet."

My eyes widened and against the needs of my body to keep going, I grew still on top of him. With the arm looped around my back, Joker stood to his feet and I sucked in a breath of surprise, my arms tightening around his shoulders. For the second time in the past few hours, he dropped me onto the table and I blinked up at him.

Once again, he towered over me and I could only stare up at him as he peeled the shirt away from his shoulders. My eyes couldn't take in enough of him and I licked my lips at the sight of his broad chest and frame. Who knew this was hiding behind all of those layers?

The sound of his laugh-barely anything more than a quick scoff-surprised me, and my eyes lifted to meet his. "Like what you see, sweetheart?"

It was the same thing he'd asked me earlier when he caught me staring, but unlike last time, I didn't remain quiet. "Yes," I breathed, curling both of my hands in the thin material of the tank top he wore. With a tug, I pulled him to me and wrapped my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles behind him to keep him in place.

Our mouths met and I savored the slick feel of the paint on his lips. I wanted it to stain me red. Joker kissed me hungrily, his lips urging mine open to allow room for our tongues and I moaned into his kiss,

The smell of gasoline and sweat that had once frightened me ignited a new fire within me and it burned hot. I couldn't get close enough, couldn't taste enough of him. I needed more and my hands slid over his shoulders, up the curve of his neck, and around to tangle into the messy hair at the back of his head.

With a growl rumbling deep in his throat, Joker tore his lips from mine and before I could cry out in protest, he spun me. My bare feet slapped the cold concrete and I managed to put my hands down on the table in time to keep myself from falling face-first onto it.

In an instant, Joker's hands were on my breasts, kneading and squeezing them from behind. He kicked my legs apart and I gasped. One of his hands left my breast and I had no time to mourn its absence. He gathered my hair and brushed it away from my neck while leaning my head to the side.

My breath was fast and the ache between my legs was almost unbearable. The urgency of his hands, the way he sucked and bit at my shoulder-hard enough to leave a mark-told me that I wasn't the only one aching at the moment. Between our bodies, I could feel the back of his hand against my ass, and the realization that he was unzipping his pants pulled a groan from my throat.

"You've wanted this since the first moment you laid eyes on me, haven't you Natalie?" He growled the words against my ear, the sound making my knees tremble. I blinked and tried to remember the night in that penthouse. I had been so scared, so frozen and from that moment, I haven't been able to get him out of my head.

He had been right about it from the beginning.

He had seen how much I wanted him in my eyes and I had so foolishly denied it.

I found myself nodding to answer him, too overcome to even attempt to speak. Joker slid his hand up my chest to my throat and curled his fingers around it, bruising more of my skin. I almost welcomed the marks on my body. When he lifted his fingers over my chin, pushing them past my lips, I took them into my mouth and tasted the paint left there.

My tongue curled around his fingers and from behind me, he gave me no warnings. One second, he was pulling his cock from his pants, and the next, he was plunging into me. I whimpered around his fingers and panted for breath, my hands slapping against the table to steady myself.

Joker hooked his other arm around my elbow and pulled my arm back as far as it could go. Pain spread out from my shoulder but like the bites and bruises he left on my body, it only made the pleasure between my legs feel better.

There was no time to adjust myself-no time to find the right position. Joker wasted no time. He fucked me hard from the moment he entered me, jarring me against the table so hard I could feel it in my bones. Once again, he held nothing back-not caring about the sound of the table against the wall, coaxing me to moan louder. He wanted everyone to know what he was doing to me.

I cried out as I felt myself stretch around him and tried to reach back to slow him down. He caught my hand easily and brought it behind my back, holding both of my wrists in his fist. How was he so strong? I saw how muscular he was and still, I was surprised by him.

"Ah, ah, ahhh." He purred behind me. "This is what you wanted, sweetheart. This is what you were begging for while you were grinding on my lap. And now, you're going to get what you wanted."

Every thrust of his cock stole my breath and I sucked in air around his fingers. When he pulled them from my mouth and curled them back around my throat, my eyes fluttered close. I let him pull me back against him until my head rest against his shoulder and his mouth was right at my ear.

His breath was warm and fast against my jaw and every time he slammed as deep as he could go inside me, a pathetic little whimper would escape my lips. I could feel the stretch of his scars at my temple and knew the smile on his face without seeing it.

"You like it when I hurt you, don't you?"

I nodded.

"All I've ever wanted was to hurt you, Natalie. And all you ever did was run from me."

"I-" His fingers tightened around my throat enough that I cut my words off with a gasp.

"But you won't run anymore, will ya sweetheart-" his words were broken by a sharp hiss and he shifted on his feet, slamming into me from a new angle that made me cry out. "-no, you're mine now, Natalie."

Oh, fuck.

My muscles clenched and my entire body felt as if it were being pulled tight. I arched back into him and cried out as his cock hit that sweet spot inside me. Each thrust brought me closer to the edge and I felt my legs twitch and tremble as everything unraveled.

Joker sighed with satisfaction at my earlobe. He fucked me in time with the crash of each wave of my orgasm and I was lost in the high of it. Every single one of his men could have walked in the room at that moment and I never would have noticed. All I could feel was the rise and fall of each wave.

As they leveled out and the high faded from my head, my body quivered in protest. The muscles of my thighs shook and I only vaguely noticed the drip of warmth down the inside of them.

All at once, Joker released his hold on my hands and I cried out as my hands slapped the surface of the table. He put his palm between my shoulder blades and pushed me down until I was laying on my front. Lightly, he dragged his fingers down my spine and I shivered.

I closed my eyes and just like the time before, I let him do what he wanted with me.

Joker let out quiet grunts as he fucked me from behind, pounding his hips into my backside and I savored the sound of it all. The thought of being used by him, of being his, was almost enough to bring me back to the edge all over again. I didn't have the energy to even try and instead, I laid there and let him use me.

It wasn't long before his steady rhythm became erratic and I knew he was close. He dug his fingertips into my back, pressing half-moon shapes into my skin with his fingernails. Each of them stung with pain and I sucked in a breath.

When he once again stilled inside me, his breath slowly calming, I opened my eyes and peered at the table stretching out in front of me. The mirror was still propped against the wall and in the glass, I could see only a small fraction of his body. His face was tilted toward the ceiling and his eyes were closed, the scars on his face giving him a smile that wasn't truly there.

In that moment, with his chest rising and falling and his painted face covered in shadows, I couldn't help staring. I pushed myself off the table and stood up with him still inside me. His hands fell to my hips and I leaned back into his chest, reaching one arm to loop around his neck.

He caught me around the throat once more and I hummed.

I knew this was still wrong, that, given enough time, I would hate myself more than I ever have before, but just for now, I didn't think about it. I didn't care that I was bruised, that he had come twice inside me in less than twenty-four hours, or that I was still being held hostage in this warehouse.

For just a brief moment, it all melted away and there was nothing but his mouth against mine.

A knock on the door of the office several hours later startled me and from my place on the couch, I glanced at Joker. He had dressed once more, covering himself in the many layers of his persona. His hair hung in messy strands that fell around his face and when he straightened his coat around his shoulders, I felt warmth touch my cheeks.

It was strange being able to admit that I was attracted to him. Especially since I still hated him. I didn't want to want him but I couldn't help it and there was no going back now.

From the door, a muffled voice called out. "We're almost ready, Boss."

Ready for what?

I didn't even want to know the answer to that.

Joker didn't answer. He strolled toward me and tugged the leather gloves on his hands, situating his sleeves around them before his gaze lifted to mine. "C'mon, sweetheart."

My eyes widened slightly and I glanced hesitantly at the door. "Where are we going?"

"I gotta little business to attend to." He waited for me to stand to my feet and when I did, his hand came down against my ass with a sharp pop. I rolled my eyes. "So you've gotta scram."

I blinked and shook my head. "I'm leaving?"

Joker stared at me, his eyebrows lifting slightly before he glanced around. "What, you want to stay?"

"No. Not if you're going to be killing people and blowing things up." I reached out and took hold of his arm to steady myself while I pushed my feet into the boots I had discarded the night before. He sighed-as if the very touch of my hand irritated him but he didn't swat it away. It was almost humorous how casual touches like this felt too intimate for us, despite the fact that he had fucked me twice now. "I just didn't think you'd let me go anywhere."

Once my hand fell away from his arm, he shrugged. "You're no prisoner here, sweetheart. I've got things to take care of today and I can't exactly mix business with pleasure."

Again, his hand smacked my backside and I jumped, scowling at him as he passed me to make his way to the door. He opened it and stepped aside, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him and I pursed my lips.

"Right. Because this-" I pointed back and forth between us. "-is just a perk of business, right?"

The corner of his lips stretched into a grin. "You're a quick learner, Natalie. But don't forget." His voice deepened as I passed by him and his hand snatched my elbow to stop me in my tracks. "You're mine."

I could only stare with wide eyes as his words sank through me, settling inside my lower belly with that familiar ache. He searched my gaze for a brief moment before pulling his attention away from me and I blinked myself from the trance. With my head ducked to hide the flush of my cheeks, I stepped out of the office and stood to the side for him to lead the way.

Out in the warehouse, the sun was just starting to peek through the dingy windows that lined the top of the building. I pursed my lips and hated that I no longer had on panties or a bra. There was nothing between me and everyone else aside from the material of my dress. And this poor dress had been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours.

Then again, so had I.

Joker came to a stop at the edge of the warehouse floor where it opened up and I lifted my head to glance at him. A mountain of stacked bills stood in the middle of the room stole my attention and my jaw dropped at the sight of it. On all sides, his henchmen were stacking more and more, slowly building out like an enormous pyramid of cash.

There had to be millions of dollars just sitting there for the taking. My head filled instantly with all the possibilities, of all the things I could do with money like that. It wasn't until my eyes drifted up the length of the mountain of money that I noticed a man sitting on top-bound and gagged.

He stared at me, his eyes swollen and his clothing torn as if he had been on the losing end of a bad fight. I quickly looked away from him. This was none of my business and honestly, what could I even do to stop it? Joker wouldn't listen to me and I couldn't exactly call for help.

So I turned away and spotted a pair of familiar faces among the small crowd of goons standing around. The driver from the previous day stared up at the man on top of the pile of cash and Daryl stood side by side, but it was only the latter who looked at me with contempt.

The cold look on his face instantly lit me with shame and I knew what he was thinking; that I was a whore, that I had lied to him when I said there was nothing going on between Joker and me. Maybe I was a whore. I wasn't sure anymore, but seeing the look of pure hatred and fury on his face as he watched me standing beside Joker brought a smile to my face.

I didn't try to hide the smug grin from him and instead, crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin a bit higher before turning away from him completely.

"They're on their way," a voice on the other side of Joker pulled my attention away from Daryl and I glanced up at the two men beside me. Joker gave a single nod and turned to face me. He put a hand to my back and lifted the other to gesture for someone to come closer.

"Time to go," he said and to my horror, I noticed both the driver and Daryl moving toward us.

I shook my head and took a step back. "No. There's no way in hell I'm leaving with either of them."

"What'd I do?" The driver asked, putting his hand to his chest.

I ignored him and turned to face Joker once more. He wasn't looking at me and was instead preoccupied with the man sitting on top of the mountain in the middle of the warehouse. "You cannot be serious, right now. I'm not going with him!"

"Hmm?" Joker asked, finally noticing me still standing there.

"Daryl! I don't want him anywhere near me."

The two men closed the distance between us and one of them grabbed me by the elbow, dragging me back a few steps. I struggled against their hold and wrenched my arm free, turning to lash out. My hand smacked against Daryl's face in a satisfying sound that echoed through the room.

He barely let it bother him, snatching me once more by the arms so suddenly that my feet stumbled on the floor. Daryl shook his head and chuckled as he stared down at me. "You got a problem with me, pussycat?"

Ugh! I almost wished I had accepted Joker's offer to shoot this asshole last night.

The other man jabbed an elbow into Daryl's side and cleared his throat but whatever he was trying to tell him went unnoticed. He leaned toward me, his greasy hair spilling over his shoulder. I stared at it, wanting nothing more than to rip it out of his scalp.

"Get away from me," I snarled, trying in vain to pull my arm free of his grip. A part of me couldn't believe that this was happening. After everything that had happened. After I had given myself to Joker, this is how he treats me? I really was nothing but a toy to him.

You're mine...His words were nothing but lies and they left a bitter taste in the back of my mouth that brought the sting of tears to my eyes.

"Oh, don't worry, pussycat," Daryl laughed, jerking me away from Joker and leading me back toward the office. "I'll take good care of you. You won't ever forget it-"

A bang echoed through the entire warehouse and I screamed as something warm and wet splattered across the side of my face. The sound left a ringing in my ears and I gasped for breath as Daryl hit the ground on his knees. His hand fell limp away from my arm and a second later, he slumped face down on the concrete floor, the back of his skull open and oozing blood.

My eyes found Joker and I stared at him in a strange mix of horror and appreciation. He lowered the gun and tossed it to another one of his henchmen standing to the side. With a quick snap of his fingers, two others stepped forward and took hold of Daryl's body.

They dragged him away and I stumbled back, too shocked to do much else aside from stare like a deer caught in headlights.

Joker strolled up to me and assessed the blood splattered on my face with a scowl. He swiped a hand over my chin, his thumb catching my bottom lip as he did so. I wanted to thank him, but it felt wrong to thank him for killing someone.

"Don't say I never did anything for you, sweetheart." He kept his voice low, barely loud enough for me to hear, but I did and I would repeat it in my head for a long time.

Without missing a beat, the other man stepped up to take Daryl's place and when he took hold of my elbow, it wasn't as forceful. He steered me out of the warehouse but I stared over my shoulder to where Joker stood in front of that enormous pile of cash.

He didn't look back.

As soon as I was led back outside in the early morning light, I faced forward and recognized one of the SUVs ahead of us. It was black, with equally dark tinted windows and I knew that I would once again be thrown into the back seat and taken who knows where.

But this time, while I slid into the leather seat and watched the door shut behind me, I smiled and repeated Joker's words in my head.

You're mine...sweetheart.