author's note: Hello! Well, this is bittersweet, but this fic is coming to an end! The next chapter will be the last but have no fear. I have a sequel planned and will be starting it as soon as I wrap this fic up. I'm not done with Natalie and Joker's story just yet.

Cause there's nothing for me to think about
Now that he's gone, I can feel nothing

"The person you called has a voicemail box that has not been set up-" I ended the fourth call I had tried to make as I raced down the street. Whoever was on the other end of the call kept hanging up on me. Whether it was Joker or not, I wasn't sure. But the first time, they had let it ring three times before hanging up. The next three times, they had only let it ring once.

Someone was on the other end. And if they thought I would give up that easily, they were wrong. I cursed and stuffed the phone into the pocket of my shorts with trembling fingers and ran on.

There were sirens everywhere. The noise from the multitude of fire trucks and ambulances and police cars bounced between the buildings in the city, echoing for miles. It was all around me and my ears were begging for me to press my hands to them, begging to hear anything else.

But I couldn't do anything but run. Tears stung the corners of my eyes and several times, police cars raced down the street ahead of me. I followed the noise of the sirens until I skidded around the corner.

The street ahead was filled with people and police cars but beyond was the destruction I had been running to. My hands flew to my mouth and I stared in horror at the mound of rubble and burning debris that had once been Gotham General Hospital.

He had done this.

My fingers were trembling against my face and I felt sick to my stomach. The whole morning, I had been so naive, so stupid. I had thought about the past two days, thought about him kissing me and touching me and all the while, he was doing this.

I took one step after another until I was at the back of the crowd of people. There were police officers directing the crowds away, assuring everyone that their loved ones would be found and I moved closer. One of the cops had told a group of people to contact the other hospitals and as they stepped away, he lifted the radio on his shoulder to his mouth.

Before he could say anything, he spotted me and stepped back to keep me from going any further. "Ma'am, you can't go any further." He put a hand out and I flinched away from him. My brows pinched into a frown and I shook my head.

"You don't understand. I-"

"If you have family members or loved ones that were in the hospital, they were evacuated and taken to other hospitals in the area." The officer looked down at me with kind, reassuring eyes, but I could tell he was overwhelmed himself. I looked from his face to the destruction down the block from us.

Fire trucks sprayed water on the burning piles of rubble and I watched the dust cloud and smoke curl up to the sky. I was vaguely aware that the police officer was speaking to me again, but I could hear nothing in my ears but the rush of my heart beat. Before he had finished saying whatever he was telling me, I turned on my heel and walked away.

My stomach was twisted and tormented by the thought of letting the person, the monster responsible for this touch me. I had wanted him. I had let him do so much to me and I had liked it.

This time, I brought my hands to my ears and choked back a sob, wishing I could drown out the sirens. I walked until I could no longer look back and see the chaos he left behind. It took several blocks before the dust and smoke disappeared behind the multitude of buildings and when the sirens were nothing but faded echoes, I slowed to a stop.

I ducked into an alley and leaned against one of the buildings, sucking in deep breaths of air. It did nothing to help ease the grip of panic and terror that hadn't relented from the moment I felt those tremors outside the clinic. I squeezed my eyes shut and slid down the wall until my backside met the filthy pavement beneath me.

I already felt filthy, from the inside out.

The disgust that I had been ignoring, the guilt and hatred for myself that I thought I could forget resurfaced and an inner voice in my head spat at me. You let a mass murder fuck you. I pressed my palms into my eyes and sobbed. You let him cut you and bruise you and you liked it. You'd let him do it again, wouldn't you?

Sniffing, I snatched the burner phone back out of my pocket and dialed the last number-the only number-that had ever called this device. An unlisted number for a man with no name.

You know my name, Natalie. The echoes of his voice in my head made me scowl down at the phone through my tears and I pressed a thumb into the call button. I want to hear you say it.

Two rings this time before that same message replayed. "The person you called has a voicemail box-"

Fuck!

I called three more times and never got past the third ring. With a sob that ached my chest, I let my head fall back against the building behind me and squeezed my eyes shut. Hot tears rolled down the sides of my face and I knew I was being stupid. Crying in the side streets wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't help me at all.

But I couldn't hold it in anymore. I cried harder than I had in months. The sobs ached my chest and each breath I sucked in did little to help. My head hurt, my heart was shattered, and I was powerless against a force I had no business getting involved in.

And the most fucked up part? I just wanted to talk to him. I actually wanted to hear his voice and that stupid tone he spoke to me in. I wanted to hear him say my name the way he did and I fucking hated myself for it.

God, what was wrong with me? Had he truly broken me down this badly?

I sucked in a shuddering breath and used the sleeve of my jacket to wipe away the tears that streaked down my face. A cough was in the back of my throat, pressing against my tongue and making me gag. With a groan, I leaned forward and dropped my forehead onto my knees, curling my arms around my legs.

I truly was a pathetic piece of shit.

People had died today.

People were searching for their loved ones, terrified that they'd been killed by a psychopath and here I was...sitting alone in an alley, crying because I couldn't get through to the man who did it all.

If anyone who knew me saw me at this moment, they wouldn't even recognize me. They'd be disgusted with me as much as I was with myself.

But what else could I do? I had no power over him. I couldn't stop this. He'd showed me enough times that I meant nothing to him and truly, that was what hurt the most. No, I didn't care that he didn't care about me. I hated that I let myself walk right into this situation. I should have fought harder, I should have done more to stop him, to stop all of this.

I should have pulled the trigger the moment he put the gun in my hands that day. If I could go back to that moment, sitting in the back of that van, holding a gun to his head, I would have squeezed the trigger and ended this.

In my hand, the burner phone vibrated and I nearly dropped it to the ground. I scrambled to sit up and cleared my throat as I stared down at the screen. The same unlisted number that I'd been trying to call for the past hour was calling me. My body betrayed me. Butterflies erupted in my stomach and my heart leapt into my throat.

I pressed the answer button though I knew I should have let him sit it out a moment, keep him dangling like he usually did me.

"Hello, sweetheart," he spoke before I could answer and I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice. It was like a drug to me now, and no matter how desperate I was to get clean, I couldn't deny how good it felt to hear it.

"What are you doing?" I managed to say, though my voice was hoarse from crying so hard. "You blew up a hospital."

"Oh, you noticed that?"

I was on my feet, using the building behind me to keep me steady as I stood. "Please stop with these jokes and quips. This is serious. You killed innocent people!"

His sigh made me squeeze my eyes shut. "I've told you before, Natalie. There are no innocent people and there are consequences when people don't play by the rules."

I paced further into the alley and shook my head at his words. The high from hearing his voice was fading fast and left me with nothing but sickness in its wake. "Fuck that. You're a hypocrite. You don't play by the rules that you force everyone else to-"

"I make the rules."

"God, I'm so sick of you playing these games. Why are you doing this? Why can't you just-" I pressed my palm to my forehead and tried to ignore the burn of fresh tears to the back of my eyelids. Crying alone was one thing, but crying on the phone to him wasn't an option. He would get too much satisfaction out of it. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I know you have this big plan or whatever, but I'm begging you."

The sound of his laugh, soft but sinister in my ear, made me roll my eyes.

"It's kind of sweet that you care this much, Natalie. It touches my heart."

"You have no heart," I whispered, hoping he could feel the sting of my words. The sound of his laugh was evidence to the contrary and I scowled at the building in front of me, wishing it was him standing there.

I had slapped him before. I wasn't afraid to do it again.

"Oh, sweetheart," he purred, the sound making my eyes close. "That hurts."

"Please," I whispered, no longer able to hold back the teardrops. They rolled down my face and I didn't bother wiping them away. "Stop this. We can figure things out. It doesn't have to be this way."

He made a sound of his disapproval and I swallowed down a sob. Behind my eyelids, I could just imagine the look on his face. Mock pity, a faux frown that would twist into a wicked smirk, and those eyes that held nothing but darkness.

"Yes, it does," he said quietly, the tone of his voice no longer humorous and mocking. There was a darkness in it that I could feel in my bones and I shivered. "There are bigger things at work than you and I, Natalie. Far more important things than your desires."

My eyes opened and through the haze of tears, I glared at the wall. Anger filled me so suddenly it blocked any other feeling and I clenched my fingers around the phone at my ear. I trembled from head to toe and for once, it wasn't out of terror or misery. I was full of fury.

"I hate you," I said through clenched teeth. Again, I thought back to the day in that van and pictured my hands around that gun and the barrel to his head.

"Is that so?" Joker laughed in my ear. "Didn't seem like you hated me this morning when you were begging for me. Do you remember the way you took it all so eagerly, Natalie?"

"I hope that whatever you're planning backfires in your face. I hope you get caught in your own chaos. I hope you die and your entire existence is nothing but a stain on the city. And when you do, no one will remember you!"

God, I wanted him to feel exactly how I felt right now. I wanted him to see the fury in my face and the anger that trembled through me. And it would have been so satisfying if I had ended the call right then, but I hesitated. I waited for just a second too long, listening, hoping to hear him react in a remotely human way.

I wanted him to yell at me back, to show any emotion, but he didn't. All he said before I could take the phone away from my ear, was something I would never forget.

"Oh, but you'll remember me, sweetheart."

My thumb pressed the button to end the call and I gripped the phone in my fist. I lifted it in the air, intending to smash the stupid device on the filthy pavement beneath my feet...but I didn't. I don't know what I was still holding on to. I didn't know what else I could hope for. I wouldn't be getting it. Not from him.

Instead, I lowered my arm and stared down at the phone in my palm. I didn't know how long I stood there, staring at the screen, waiting for it to light back up with that same unlisted number. When it didn't, when I felt the adrenaline fading out of me, I let out a breath and pushed the phone into my pocket once more.

I turned on my heel and walked out of the alley. The streets were relatively empty for the afternoon, but I wasn't surprised. People were fleeing the city like rats now. They'd rather drown in the waters than die on the ship and I didn't blame them.

It took over an hour to walk home. The closer I got to the apartment, the more crowded the streets were. Cabs and cars and buses filled the roads and the horns filled the air. I kept my head down and walked. Even as I passed by a group of people listening to a radio playing in a car parked on the curb, I didn't look up.

The voice playing over the speakers was one I recognized-one I had just heard speaking into my ear. Joker was giving a warning not to leave the city, not to take the bridges or roads leading out of Gotham, and still, I walked home with my head down.

There was no fight left in me. He had tormented me, had broken me, and left me completely exhausted and defeated.

And I had no power whatsoever. He didn't care if I lived or died. If I was caught up in one of his explosions, he would shrug it off and walk on. I meant nothing to him and it was time for me to stop wanting something that I would never get from him. He wasn't a man.

He was nothing but a psychotic animal.

My life truly fell apart when I stopped thinking of him like that when I had let him kiss me the first time. It wouldn't happen again. The bruises he left on me would fade, the bite marks and cuts I endured would heal and despite what he believed, I would forget about him.

By the time I made it home, my stomach was cramping fiercely. The nurse practitioner had warned me that it would be a side effect of the morning-after pill and I was miserable as I managed to make it up the stairs to the second floor of our apartment building. The pain made my mouth feel dry and hot and I wanted something cold to soothe my throat.

Crying had left me with a headache as well.

I just wanted to sleep the next few weeks away. I didn't care anymore.

When I turned the corner from the stairs, I came to a stop and stared at the pair of suitcases sitting outside our front door. Inside, I could hear voices and sighed at the sound of Greg instructing Chelsea to get her things.

Apparently, they were some of the rats abandoning the sinking ship of Gotham. I wanted to turn around and walk away, to find a motel or something to stay in, but my bed was calling my name and I needed some heavy-duty pain killers.

I passed into the apartment door and found Chelsea hurrying from her bedroom to the bathroom. Greg was standing in the living room, looking at his watch. "We've got just enough time to pick up your mom before the ferry leaves."

I frowned and cleared my throat to make my presence known. Greg whirled around and seemed relieved to see me. He crossed the room and put a hand on my shoulder. "Thank God, you're alright. When we heard the explosion we had no idea where you were."

"I was..." I didn't even bother answering him. What was the point? With a shrug, I stepped around him and crossed into the kitchen. I grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen and popped the cap. I poured four pills into my mouth and leaned underneath the faucet to pour water into my mouth. It was cold and that was all I cared about.

"Where have you been?" Chelsea's shrill voice called out behind me and I stood up and turned around to face her. Her eyes were lined with mascara that had ran from her crying and I frowned. "Greg told me you had left and we've been worried."

"I'm sorry. I just had somewhere to be. Are you guys leaving the city?"

"Yeah," Greg said from behind me. "I managed to get us onto the ferry. It's leaving in a few hours and we need to leave soon if we want to make it."

"Are you sure you should? I mean...they're saying not to leave."

Greg scoffed and took the bag of toiletries from Chelsea's hand. He nodded to me as he dropped the bag onto the two suitcases outside in the hall. "Yeah, that's what that bastard wants us to do. Wants us corralled like sheep where he can just blow us up one by one."

The mention of that bastard made me flinch and I turned away from them before they could notice my reaction. I reached for the door to the fridge, not even wanting to eat, but needing something to distract myself.

What would the two of them think if they knew the truth?

Another cramp gripped my stomach and I winced. I managed to swallow down a groan and was thankful that they were distracted for the moment by discussing their plans to leave the city. "You got everything you need?"

"I think so." Chelsea turned to me just as I shut the fridge and stood up. "Come with us, Nat. You don't need to stay here alone while it isn't safe."

"Yeah, this is the last place you need to be."

I stared at them both and suddenly, the guilt I had been trying to ignore came bubbling to the surface like boiling water. It scorched me from the inside and I crossed my arms over my chest, afraid that they would be able to feel the heat of it. "I appreciate the offer but..."

"Natalie, please. This city isn't safe anymore."

Nowhere was safe anymore. It didn't matter where I went. Their offer was tempting, even though I knew that it wouldn't work for me. I couldn't leave, though I wasn't sure what was keeping me here. Did I think that somehow, he'd change his mind? No. There was no hope left for that, but still, it felt wrong to leave.

"I'll be alright." I forced a smile. "Besides, what would a bastard like Joker want with someone like me anyway?"

Greg sighed and put his hands on his hips, turning to look at his girlfriend. He didn't find it weird that I would stay. He probably wouldn't think twice about me when they left. Not because he was a jerk, but because he just wasn't like that.

But it wasn't Greg that worried me at that moment. It was Chelsea. She stared at me, studying me as we stood in the apartment. Even when Greg clapped his hands and told her once again that they need to head out, she didn't look away from me.

I swallowed and leaned against the counter, ducking my head in hopes that my hair would hide the shame and guilt written on my face. Not to mention, there were still bruises on my neck that I didn't want her to see.

"Go ahead and take the bags down to the car," Chelsea said, making me bite the inside of my lip. Her tone only made the knots in my stomach twist harder. "I'll be down in a minute."

He seemed to understand what she was saying and without a word, Greg took the bags and walked away. It was just the two of us left alone in the apartment and I could feel the threat of tears press hard against the back of my throat. It made the pounding in my head worse and I reached up to scratch at my eyebrow.

"Hey," she said quietly, moving closer to my position in the kitchen. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I croaked, lifting my head with a laugh that sounded both forced and completely bitter. "I'm fine."

Chelsea hesitated and put her hand down on the counter. She drummed her fingers for a second and for just a tiny moment, I thought she would give up and leave me alone. But she took another step forward and I could see the worry and confusion written on her face.

"Look, I know we haven't been close friends or anything, but I do worry about you. The past few months, you've been...different."

Oh, god. This was not happening. Not now. My throat clenched tight and I looked away from her, hoping I could keep the tears away until after she left. "I've just been stressed about money and bills."

More lies. Would I ever stop?

"I know, but things seem worse lately. I don't think I've seen you smile for weeks." Hearing her say that made my gaze flicker back to her face. She sighed and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You know you can tell me, right? I know I come off as a bitch, but I do care."

I nodded and looked away again. This time, the tears burned harder and I knew I wouldn't be able to ignore them. I could feel them pooling up in my eyes and I blinked them away quickly. Despite the lump in my throat, I was able to find my voice. "I know. I just...I've gotten caught up in stuff lately that I'm having a hard time dealing with."

Chelsea stepped closer and set her purse down on the counter beside her. "What kind of stuff?"

"Someone. A guy." I reached up and quickly wiped at my eyes with my jacket sleeve. "He...isn't a good guy."

"Jesus, Nat...did he hurt you?"

I was shaking my head before the question had even left her mouth, but it was a lie. He had hurt me. He had put his hands around my throat, he had bitten me and cut me and hurt me in more ways than just physical. But how could I even begin to tell her the truth? It was too late for that.

"I'm okay. He didn't hurt me, he's just...a bad guy." God that was the understatement of the century. He was more than a bad guy. He was a monster. I used my sleeve to wipe my face and shook my head. "He's stalking me and coming here when he knows I'm alone."

"So leave. Come with us." Chelsea reached for me but I stepped away shaking my head. I crossed to the living room and put my hands in my hair.

"You don't understand. I can't leave. If it's not him, then it's his stupid...friends, or whatever." I still had to be careful about my words. Though I was finally being honest with her, I couldn't bring myself to tell the whole truth. I couldn't stand to see the look in her face if she knew.

For a moment, Chelsea stood where I had left her in the kitchen and I watched as she slowly turned to face me. Her eyes were narrowed and lips pursed. She crossed her arms over her chest and my stomach dropped a bit. "Tell me something, Nat. Did this guy and his friends have anything to do with us being robbed?"

My back stiffened and I could feel my throat clamping tightly over any words I wanted to say. A hundred lies popped into my head but none made it to my mouth. It was as if my body was tired of lying and just refused to do it anymore. Which meant tears started to pool up once more in my eyes and at the sight of them, Chelsea shook her head.

"You knew who broke into our apartment and you didn't tell the cops? You didn't tell me? What if I had been here?"

"But you weren't-"

"That's not the point!" She threw her hands in the air and stared at me in disbelief and anger. It was only a fraction of what she would look at me with if she knew the whole truth. "Fuck, Natalie! I've been having nightmares for the past two weeks. They stole the money I was saving up for my wedding, for fuck's sake."

"I know," I said quickly, pressing a hand to my tender throat. "And I'm going to get your money back, I promise."

"No wonder they didn't take anything of yours." She scoffed and snatched her purse from the counter. "I worried myself sick over you and all this time it was because ofyou. I want you gone."

My jaw fell slack and I watched her from across the room as she moved toward the front door. The look of rage on her face nearly made me keep my mouth shut but I couldn't stop myself. "Chelsea, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen, it just spiraled out of control. Please, don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything," she said, whirling back around to face me. I stared at her through the blur of my tears. "You did this, Natalie. I don't know when-or even if-we'll be back. But I want you gone."

And with that, she threw the door open, stormed through it and slammed it shut behind her. The chain swung wildly in her wake and rattled from the force of it and in her absence, I let myself sob.

She was right though.

I did this.

The tears burned as they spilled down my cheeks and I lowered myself onto the edge of the couch. I didn't know what was worse; the pain in my stomach from the morning-after pill, or the mental anguish of having to endure all of this alone. Either way, I knew I had been selfish.

I could have stopped this a long time ago and I had been a coward. I had thought of myself as a pacifist but I had been wrong.

No one's a pacifist. You've either killed someone or haven't had the opportunity yet.

I leaned forward and dropped my head onto my knees again, sobbing hard into them. I wanted his voice out of my head. He had been right. He had been right about me from the start.

With a scream scratching at my throat, I was on my feet and in my bedroom in just a few short steps. I slammed the door shut and raked my fingers through my hair, turning to the mirror hanging on the wall. I stared at myself in the reflection-really looked at myself.

I stepped closer and wiped quickly at the tears lingering in the corners of my eyes. They were both rimmed with red from crying so hard, puffy and swollen. But just beneath that, there was a darkness that I could no longer blame on exhaustion.

Was this what he had seen the first time he saw me in Bruce Wayne's penthouse? All scared and eyes wide with something I didn't even know I kept hidden. I moved closer to my reflection and stared into my own eyes. Behind those eyes, he had said to me just last night. You were just begging for me to tear you to pieces.

Maybe he had been right about that too.

I looked away from my reflection and down at the drawer in my bedside table. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I pulled the drawer open and found the playing card still sitting where I had kept it. The typed letters on the front had terrified me the first time I saw them. They had made me sick to my stomach and now…

Now I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know what was wrong or right, truth or a lie anymore. For what felt like hours, I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to replay everything that had happened since that night I took that catering job. I tried to remember what I had thought when he had reached up to wipe champagne from my face.

I remembered smelling him everywhere and even now, I could close my eyes and recall the way his scent made me feel. Was it always like this, or had I been disgusted by it at first?

It was dark by the time I finally stood to my feet and moved to the window across the room. Outside, a few cars passed, but the lights in the building on the other side of the street were dark. If anyone was home in the apartments, they were hiding.

Without thinking, as if my body moved before my mind had a chance to stop it, I reached into my pocket and pulled the burner phone back out. It was nearly eleven o'clock. I wondered where he was, what he was doing. Planning more destruction and deaths?

I sniffed and tapped through the options until I found that same unsaved number. He wouldn't answer. I told myself that I would only call once. If he denied the call, then that was it. I couldn't torture myself all night.

My thumb was shaking as I hovered it over the call button and with my eyes shut tight, I pressed it. The trill of the ring at my ear made me shiver and I leaned my head against the windowsill as I waited. One ring. Two...Three…

The realization that he would ignore my call made me sick to the stomach. But what had I honestly been expecting? I pulled the phone away from my ear just a fraction of an inch before I heard the fourth ring cut off in the middle. I held my breath, waiting for the automated message to play.

When it didn't, I swallowed.

"Hello?" I asked in a whisper.

"I'm a bit busy, Natalie."

I almost laughed out loud. The way he said my name told me he was irritated with how I had spoken to him earlier. Rolling my eyes, I leaned against the windowsill once more. "I don't want you to die."

"Good to know."

Oh yeah, he was pissed.

"I don't necessarily think you deserve to live. But I don't want you to die."

"Is that right? Well, Natalie, I'll try not to disappoint you."

"Wait," I stood up straight and hoped he wouldn't hang up on me. When he sighed, I took a breath and looked back at the playing card laying on my bed. "Will you answer one question for me?"

"Maybe."

"Did…" I swallowed, not yet knowing exactly what I wanted to ask him. Well, that was a lie. I knew what I wanted to ask, I just didn't know how. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and started again. "Was I ever anything more than a plaything to you?"

After only a second's hesitation, he answered. "You were exactly what you wanted to be."

It made me squeeze my eyes shut and I pressed my head to the frame of the window. His answer infuriated me, but I was too exhausted to let that anger consume me as it had earlier today.

"Please," I whispered, hating that I was always begging him for something. "Just be honest for once. I need to know if I mean anything to you at all or if I was just a distraction between the chaos. Can you please just give me that?"

The seconds ticked by like hours and as each one passed, I felt my heart breaking more. It was already shattered, but his silence was the boot heel grinding the pieces up into dust. I dragged in a shuddering breath and nodded.

"Your silence speaks volumes. Please just leave me alone. Whatever happens with your plans, or whatever, just forget I exist."

"Oh, I can't do that."

I tilted my head back and looked up at the ceiling, my voice cracking as I spoke. "Why?"

"Because, sweetheart-" hearing him call me that again made my stomach flutter. "-you're mine."

And with that, he ended the call. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the screen. Against my better judgment I called him back. I don't know why, but I just had to know.

"The person you called has a voicemail box that has not been set up yet-" The automated voice at my ear made me scoff. No rings this time. He either blocked this number or turned his phone off. I didn't know which was worse. I tossed the phone on my bed and left it behind.

I wasn't going anywhere, but I needed fresh air. This apartment where I was no longer welcome was growing stale already. I didn't bother shutting the door behind me as I made my way down the stairs and to the front door of the building. A car raced by on the street and from far off, a car alarm was blaring loudly.

I slipped out into the night and took a seat on the top step of the stoop. There was no point in hiding. After tonight, he would come look for me again. He'd find me and we would start this all over again. There was no escape, no way out, no matter how much I ran.

The echoes of his voice in my head made me close my eyes. Because sweetheart, you're mine.

It almost made me laugh. The more I repeated it in my head, the more I couldn't hold it in. I laughed quietly and put my head in my hands as I sat on the front stoop.

Time ticked by and I wondered what Chelsea had told Greg. Was he calming her down, talking sense into her, or was he just as furious with me as she had been? Were they out of Gotham yet? I hoped they were. I hoped they didn't come back.

It was awful of me, but I didn't deny it. Around midnight, I was shivering and pulled my jacket around me. How long would it take before he sent one of his henchmen after me again? Would it be tonight or tomorrow? Would he let the bruises around my throat and marks on my body heal first or would he want to admire what he had done to me?

A tear touched the corner of my eye and I wiped it away. For just a little while longer, I sat on the steps and took deep breaths of the night air. It was a bit unnerving sitting here, waiting for more explosions, more tremors to race through the streets.

My body felt wound tight, braced for the shockwave, waiting for the fire and destruction. The longer it took, the more anxious I felt about things. From down the street, a car horn beeped rapidly and I whipped my head in the direction it came from. It raced by at the end of the street and I frowned.

Another car sped by, horn blaring and I stood to my feet. Was something finally happening?

Behind me, inside the building, I could hear someone shouting and I whirled around. What the hell was going on? I took a step up to the door but from the building down the street, several people poured out into the streets. They were hugging and cheering loudly and for some reason, it made my stomach sink with worry.

Slowly, more people emerged from their hiding places and I could only stare in disbelief. I hurried down the steps just as a truck raced by. Through the open windows, the driver and passenger waved their arms in celebration.

"They did it!" The guy in the passenger seat shouted as they passed. "They caught that fucker!"

Just like Greg referring to Joker as that bastard, I knew exactly who they were talking about when they said that fucker. I stood on the sidewalk and watched the car speed by until the red lights disappeared around the corner. Sounds of celebration surrounded me and I could only cross my arms over my chest to try to soothe the strange ache deep inside me.

Car horns echoed between the buildings and down the street, a few people were gathered on the sidewalk cheering and laughinb. I stared at them with a scowl twisting my face.

I didn't feel glad and I wasn't upset. I was numb to it all.

With another shiver racing down my spine, I turned on my heel and walked back into the building. The night I left behind, with no explosions or clouds of dust and fire rising to the sky, felt strange. Almost, anticlimactic.

I expected more from him.

Upstairs, on the third floor, I could hear one of the tenants cheering in his apartment. Whoever he was with was clapping and I turned on the stairs to make my way back to my bedroom.

"It's over!" Was the last thing I heard them shouting before I shut the door behind me.

And even as the words circled my head, I didn't believe them. It wasn't over. It never was with him.

I moved into my bedroom and quietly shut the door, kicking my shoes off as I peeled the jacket from my shoulders. With the sounds in the street still carrying on, I crawled into bed and rolled my face into my pillows. My hand stretched out across the blankets and I found the slick playing card I had left there.

One for me, one for you. I read the words over and over and rolled onto my back to stare at the ceiling. My mind, my body, everything was still so numb to it all. I felt nothing and I was thankful. Closing my eyes, I pulled my pillow closer to myself and held it tight.

And just for tonight, I let myself imagine that he hadn't answered my earlier question with silence. Just for this moment-because tomorrow, I would hate myself all over again-I pretended he had told me what I had wanted to hear and that this wasn't over.

But it was.

.