I stepped into my dress and zipped myself up. Making sure my hair was still in it's elegant french twist, I added pearl earrings with a matching necklace and stopped to look in my mirror. I was wearing a black body contour dropped waist dress that flares out at the knee. Adding a pair of black heels, I grabbed a shawl and a clutch and stepped out of the walk in closet. Jonathan was waiting in front of the elevators, and his jaw dropped as I stepped out from around the corner.

"Wow," he said, "You look… absolutely incredible."

I blushed, "Thank you. You look very handsome yourself."

Taking my waist, he gave me a kiss as the elevator door opened. Stepping on, we rode it down and exited my building. Getting into his car, he drove us a few miles away into the heart of a richer side of the city and pulled up to a valet parking. Helping me out of the the car, we entered the building and were greeted by the maitre d. We were seated in a very good part of the dining room, and we were given our menus. Several of the patrons were staring at us, some either wondering who we were, some recognizing Jonathan. We ordered our starters, salads, and meal, pairing everything with a bottle of wine.

"Tell me about your childhood," I said to Jonathan as I ate from my salad.

Jonathan was quiet, "What do you want to know about?"

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from a small town in the middle of nowhere. It's unimportant."

I frowned, "What was your family like?"

He shrugged, "I lived with my grandmother. My mother left us when I was young and I never knew my father."

I frowned, "Oh… I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, "Don't be. It's what makes me who I am today… so says my therapist."

I gave him a small smile to let him know I appreciated his joke. "What was your grandmother like?"

"She was a God fearing woman," he said after a long pause, "We went to church every Sunday."

"That sounds nice."

Jonathan shook his head, "I was born out of wedlock… so she saw me as a walking sin."

I frowned, "I'm… I'm so sorry."

He shrugged, "It's not your fault."

I took another bite of my salad, then said, "Let's talk about something else."

Jonathan nodded, "What was Mr Wayne doing at the penthouse today?"

It was my turn to be silent. After a few moments, I replied, "He brought over lunch for me."

Jonathan nodded, "You said he came over for a quick fuck…. What did you mean by that?"

I shrugged, "He just… told me that he missed seeing me is all."

Jonathan frowned, "Missed seeing you? Do you miss seeing him?"

"No. I see him almost every night for dinner. I'm here in the city because of him and we're friends, but that's it."

Jonathan nodded, "Why did you have sex with him?"

"I… I told you, it was because I wanted to."

"Do you have romantic feelings for Mr Wayne?"

I frowned harder, "No… but I have romantic feelings for you."

"That's all fine and dandy, but they mean complete shit to me if you're going around sleeping with millionaires."

I sat back in my chair in complete shock. I watched at Jonathan flinched at what he said, and he reached over to take my hand. I jerked it out of the way. With a sigh, Jonathan said, "I'm sorry. I… I'm sorry. Please, Bethany."

"I've been completely honest with you about everything, Jonathan. I didn't hide what Bruce and I have done from you. I've been honest about how I feel about that decision, and I've been honest about why I made that decision. What makes you think that I would risk hurting you like that?"

"I don't have a good track record of people being genuine with me. I have a hard time trusting people, and when… when I think about my past, I remember why."

"Are you saying this is my fault?"

"No! No… You had no idea what my life has been like, and that was by my personal design. I'm sorry I snapped at you, it was wrong of me. You're right, you've been completely honest with me, and you've shown no sign of being facetious. Please… I… I don't want you to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, just hurt."

Jonathan nodded, "And you have every right to be hurt."

"Damn straight."

"I find that… I'm beginning to deeply care about you…. A lot…. And I just feel that I am defending myself from whatever is going to happen because if my personal experience, whenever a stunning woman, like yourself, ever shows me the light of day, it's always paired with something hurtful. So… I lashed out just now, and I want you to know that I'm very sorry."

I was quiet but then nodded, "Okay."

Jonathan reached for my hand and I let him have it. Holding it in his, he rubbed his thumb against the back of my hand and I knew exactly what he was doing. Looking at him, I frowned, letting him know that I did not appreciate him using a previous conversation - that I happen to enjoy - to his own advantage. He stopped and said, "Will you officially be mine?"

"Officially?"

"Will you allow me to be your boyfriend?"

I frowned, "You insult me, then think it is a good time to ask me to be your girlfriend?"

Jonathan was quiet, "I have… strong feelings for you."

"Okay."

"And I'm hoping you have those same feelings for me."

"I… I do."

"Then please," Jonathan gripped my hand tighter, "Say yes."

"I… I need to think about this, Jonathan. It's not you, its… I'm only here for the season. We both knew this going into whatever it is we're doing. I… I need to think."

Jonathan nodded, "Yes. Yes, please."

I gave him a smile, "Thank you."

A waitress came over with a tray of our food. We pulled apart to allow her space to set down our food. Looking down at my plate, I saw the dish that I had ordered, but instead of slices of chicken, I was looking down at an actual chicken that had his neck wrung and on its face was a red smile drawn in ketchup. Looking up at Jonathan, I saw that he was looking at the waitress in terror. Turning to look myself, I was greeted by a woman who had blond hair and blue eyes, but her face was covered in white makeup with black mask over her eyes. I gasped, and moved to get up, but she flashed a gun that she had under her tray.

"Why don't you two love birds just follow me," she said, her Queen's accent coming in thick and nasilly, "We don't want any funny business, now."

I looked at Jonathan for a sign of what to do, and he nodded at me. My heart dropped as we both stood up and calmly as we could walked together to the exit. Jonathan had his arm wrapped around my waist as we moved, holding me slightly in front of him away from the gun. The waitress directed us out a side door and into an alleyway where a van was located. A door opened and a man in a clown mask looked at the two of us, "Get in."

We hesitated, but the waitress pressed the barrel of the gun into my back, "Get in, bitch, or I'll shoot ya."

I choked on a sob and climbed into the back of the van with Jonathan after me. With both of us in the car, the door closed and the van took off through the streets. We slid back and forth in the back as they made turns without slowing down, the only visible point came from the windshield, images of the city racing past. Jonathan tried to stay in front of me the best he could, the woman with the gun bouncing in the back with us. She giggled as she toppled over casually holding the gun in her hand. We both waited for the bump that would set it off.

We drove for what felt like half an hour, when finally the van stopped. The door opened and we were demanded to get out of the van. Jonathan got out first, turning to help me. Holding me to him, we walked with our captors - two large clowns and the woman - into a tall building. Getting into an elevator, they pressed a button for the top floor, and we ascended through the building. Every so often, the clowns and the woman would jump causing the elevator to drop a bit as it continued to rise. At the top, the doors dinged and opened, and we were pushed out. We were on a large expansive floor with no walls, but support beams. The area was under construction, wisps of white tarp hanging from the ceiling in spots.

"Sugar, we're here," the woman shouted, "We got 'em, Pud!"

A high pitch laugh came from somewhere in the back of the room, and a chill ran down my spine. Gripping Jonathan's arm, he held me tighter to him as the shape of a man came into view. My heart raced in my chest as he approached, he was wearing a purple suit with a green vest. His face was coated with white paint and large red clown lips. His hair was stringy and a dull green. He looked terrifying.

"Good evening," said the clown, "Long time, no see, Scarecrow."