Chapter 13: Bad Witches are Ugly
Trigger Warning: this chapter mentions sexual abuse and rape. Don't forget this is a horror story as well. Read with caution.
Edit: 11/2022
...
After Kathryn finished her errand, she returned to the condo. Elise remained on the couch, watching The People's Court.
"Is little Miss Coca-Cola addict in a better mood now?" Elise asked without taking her eyes off the screen. She could hear Kathryn opening up the can. That caffeinated drink was no different than the powdered drug on the streets. It's addicting. It could change somebody drastically for the worse. Kathryn's begging and snappy behavior showed. "You happy now?"
"Very," Kathryn confirmed as she put the pack in the fridge, dramatically awing in satisfaction after taking a sip.
Elise rolled her eyes, "Whatever, Doctor Addict."
Kathryn passed Elise to watch TV in their shared bedroom. The blonde looked at Kathryn in the corner of her eye, only to notice a significance.
"Hey, Kat, wait!"
Kathryn turned around to face her roommate, "Apology accepted."
Elise dismissed her friend's assumption, "No. Not that." She tugged the sleeve of Kathryn's new jacket, "Where did you get that coat?"
Kathryn's mouth dropped, "Uh..."
"I don't remember you wearing that before. Did you go shopping while you were away? Isn't it a little big on you?"
Kathryn shook her head, "No, a friend gave it to me." She proceeded upstairs, only for her friend to follow behind with questions.
"A friend?"
"Yes," she drawled, hanging the coat in the closet.
"Do I know this friend?"
"Um... No. I-I just met him."
"Wait! Him?!" Elise smiled widely at Kathryn.
"Yeah," Kathryn hopped on her bed, turning on the TV, which Elise turned off, much to Kathryn's annoyance. Elise won't let this go unless Kathryn tells her everything. "Look, what happened was weird. Okay? I ran into this guy-" Elise opened her mouth to interject, but Kathryn knew what she was going to ask "-and yes, he is cute." Elise squealed at this, wishing she had gone to the general store instead of Kathryn.
"Anyway," Kathryn continued. "We talked a bit. He noticed I was cold, so he gave me his jacket... as a gift. End of story." She reached for the remote to turn on the TV again, and just like before, Elise switched it off. Kathryn dropped the remote in frustration. She made a mental note to get even and ruin Elise's TV time.
"Whoa! Wait a minute!" Elise raised her hand. "You just met this guy, and he just... decided to give you his jacket?"
"It's weird. I know, but I didn't bring my sweater, and my hands were cold."
"What's his name?"
"Bru-" A ringing cell phone interrupted the conversation.
Elise furrowed her brows, listening to the ringtone intently, "That's not my phone. It must be yours."
Kathryn shook her head, "It's not mine" Whose phone was ringing? Elise followed the sound toward Kathryn's closet, specifically the mystery man's jacket. She reached inside the pocket and felt a small, cold object vibrating to the touch. She knew it wasn't a sex toy; it was something better. Kathryn gasped at the sight of Bruce's cell phone. Elise looked at the unidentified caller ID.
"Sugar," Kathryn cursed quietly.
"Oh my gosh!" Elise cried in disbelief. "Is that the guy's phone?!"
Kathryn didn't answer Elise's question because she was too focused on the mobile device. "Oh no! Bruce must've forgotten his phone when he gave me his jacket!"
"Bruce? Is that his name?"
"Yes!"
While the phone was still ringing, the girls stared at it with a split decision on how to proceed.
"Well, aren't you going to answer?" Elise asked; the phone stopped the noise on cue. "Why didn't you answer?"
"Why didn't you? You have the phone, not me."
"Well, we gotta give the phone back somehow."
"Okay. How are we supposed to do that?" Kathryn challenged. "I don't even know the guy, Lise! I don't even have his number!"
"When you were talking to him, did he give away any specific details? Like, what does he do for a living? Anything that could be considered helpful?"
Kathryn took a deep breath, processing her entire conversation with the man, "Okay, um... His name is Bruce."
"Bruce what?"
"We haven't gotten that far with introductions. I didn't give him my name."
"Did he say anything to you about where he was going? Do you know where he works? What does he look like?"
"Well, he has brown hair and eyes - like mine - tan, good looking," Kathryn looked up to see Elise smirking, probably imagining the mystery man shirtless. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" the blonde asked. "I'm trying to visualize for the sake of this," she lifted the phone. "Now, did he mention anything to you?"
"He..." Kathryn massaged her temples to think. "He said he wanted to know where Wayne Tower is. I gave him directions."
Elise widened her eyes in disbelief, "Wayne Tower?"
Kathryn nodded.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes! I'm sure!" Kathryn confirmed in annoyance. "I'm the one who gave him directions!"
Elise was shaking her head, whispering to herself. "No... It can't be..."
Kathryn furrowed her brows, not sure what Elise was saying, "What?"
"It's not possible..."
"What's not possible?!" Kathryn asked, now anxious to know what was on her friend's mind.
"He can't be here," Elise whispered. "This is a miracle."
"Elise, can you please tell me what's wrong?!" Kathryn demanded angrily, not taking the suspense anymore. "What miracle?! What's impossible?!"
Elise hurried past Kathryn, who anxiously followed her.
"Elise, what are you doing?" the doctor demanded.
Elise bent over and reached below her bed, pulling out her laptop. She laid it on her lap and opened it. She logged in with her password before accessing Internet Explorer.
"What are you doing?!"
"Just give me a minute, Kat!" Elise snapped as she was typing and clicking on her computer. After a few moments, the clicking and typing sound ceased. Elise turned the laptop around to show Kathryn the screen page of the same tall, dark, handsome man. "Was this the guy you saw today?"
Kathryn squinted her eyes at the screen and scrolled down to see his name and info. "Yeah, it's him, alright..." She tried to read the words on the screen, though she couldn't read without her glasses. "Do you know him?"
Elise turned the screen back around. "I wish I did. He is a Wayne, after all."
Kathryn furrowed her brows and crossed her arms over her chest, staring at Elise questioningly. "Wayne? But that means-"
Elise smirked, "That's right, Kat. His name is Bruce 'fucking hot' Wayne. That phone belongs to a billionaire!"
Kathryn gasped and stared at Bruce's phone in shock. "I... I... I... I need to sit down," she bounced on Elise's bed next to her. "So... he owns Wayne Enterprises?"
"You don't know anything about him, do you?" Elise asked rhetorically. She sighed. "No. He was supposed to, but some guy named William Earle is currently CEO of the company. He was the one who declared Bruce dead!"
Kathryn turned to Elise sharply, widening her eyes in disbelief. "What?! He told everyone the man was dead?! Why would he do that?"
Elise shrugged, "Not sure. Bruce had disappeared seven years ago. Maybe Earle wanted to have the company for himself. I don't know. But we both know that's a lie now that Bruce is back in town!"
"I can't believe it," Kathryn whispered. "I didn't expect the guy to be rich. No wonder he didn't care about me giving back his coat."
"You are so lucky, Kat. I know that the man losing his phone is bad, but it's a good thing for us."
Kathryn furrowed her brows at Elise questionably, "What do you mean?"
Her friend smiled. "Okay, Bruce lost his phone, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, he wants it back. And what does he do if he wants the phone back?"
"He calls for it?"
"Yes! He calls, we answer. We meet up with him. He gets his phone back. He thanks us and gives us reward money. Then we become good citizens with a few hundred dollars in our pockets."
Kathryn turned her head and stared ahead, thinking about Elise's plan. It wasn't a bad idea. Everybody needed money, especially her.
"Or," Elise continued, "you give him the phone. He offers you a drink. You accept his invitation, and you two hit it off."
Kathryn instantly glared at Elise, "What?"
"Come on, Kat!" Elise lifted the device. "This phone is a blessing! It's a gift from the Good Lord himself! This is your chance!"
Kathryn sighed heavily. Little did Elise know, Kathryn was secretly dating Crane. She couldn't risk telling her friend, no matter how much she wanted to.
"I-I can't," Kathryn whispered.
Elise widened her eyes in shock, "You can't?!"
Kathryn shook her head. The blonde stared down at her as if she was talking to an idiot.
"Kat, this is a billionaire we're talking about! This is your big chance to take this guy before anyone else does!"
"I-I just can't, Lise. I'm sorry."
Elise sighed heavily, closing her laptop without taking her eyes off Kathryn. "Look... I know the break up with Sam was hard."
"Lise," Kathryn cautioned. "Don't start."
"Why?!" Elise demanded. "I know he broke your heart, but you gotta let it go!"
"You don't understand."
"I don't understand?! I've been dumped a dozen times before. I know it hurts, but I refuse to let heartbreak stop me!"
"No," Kathryn shook her head, "you don't-"
"Kat, it's time to move on. You have to see the billionaire again!"
"I can't!"
"Yes, you can! I'm telling you, even God is telling you to go to him! This phone is a sign! As soon as Bruce calls his phone, you will answer it, and you two will meet up."
"I can't!" Kathryn repeated, getting frustrated. Can Elise take no for an answer?
"And why not?!" the blonde demanded. "Give me one good reason why you can't!"
Kathryn growled in annoyance. "Because I'm already seeing someone, okay?!"
Elise widened her eyes and stared down at Kathryn in disbelief. Her friend also couldn't believe what had just come out of her mouth. "Kathryn... did I hear you say... what I think you said? You are seeing someone?"
The doctor sighed in defeat. She didn't want her friend to find out this way.
"Kathryn Knightly," Elise gave her the motherly, warning tone that Kathryn despised so much, "you better tell me the truth, or so help me-"
"Yes!" Kathryn silenced Elise with her hands up. "Okay? I'm seeing someone. Happy now?"
Elise slowly lowered herself back onto her bed. "You are seeing someone?"
"I already said it twice, Lise. I don't need to repeat myself.
"You are seeing someone... and you didn't tell me? Why didn't you tell me?! Who is the guy? How long have you two been a couple?!"
"One question at a time, please!"
"Who is he?!"
Kathryn bit her lower lip and looked away, debating whether or not to say his name.
"Kat, if you don't tell me right now, I'll-"
"It's Jonathan!" Kathryn answered, not letting Elise finish her sentence.
Elise's jaw dropped, "J-Jonathan? As in Jonathan 'Cray' Crane?!"
Kathryn lowered her eyes onto the floor before she nodded, confirming Elise's question.
The blonde blinked, "Wow."
Kathy didn't turn her head back, but her eyes did. One look at Elise's straight face made Kathryn curious about what was going through her friend's mind right now.
"How long have you been seeing him?" Elise asked softly.
Kathryn paused before she answered hesitantly. "A while. Right after my break up with Sam."
Once again, Elise reacted. She couldn't believe that Kathryn was keeping this from her for so long. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes. "You were with that creep for months?! Without telling me?! How... How could you keep this from me, Kat? How?!"
Kathryn's heart was breaking. She had no intention of hurting Elise's feelings. She was her best friend and roommate.
"I-I couldn't tell!" Kathryn cried defensively. "We couldn't tell anyone-"
"I'm your roommate, Kat!" Elise gestured at herself. "I'm your best friend! That's not enough for you to trust me?!"
"I do trust you! Believe me, Lise! I wanted to tell you!"
"But you didn't! Why?!" Elise scoffed when an idea popped into her head. "Oh my god."
"What?"
"It's because of Crane, isn't it?"
"Lise, no-"
"He's using his power of authority to force himself on you! Make you his sex slave or something! That sicko!"
"What?!" Kathryn cried.
"That's why you couldn't tell me! He threatened my life, didn't he? Well, guess what?!" Elise hurried to her closet for her purse and coat, "I'm not afraid! I'm not afraid to kick his ass!"
Kathryn's mouth dropped, wanting to say how ridiculous Elise's theory was, but no words came out.
"We're going to the police! We're going to tell them the truth!"
"Elise, stop!" Kathryn grabbed her friend's arm. "He didn't force anything on me! I wanted him!"
At first, Elise was in denial, refusing to believe that Kathryn would choose a creepy nerd like Jonathan over a hot billionaire like Bruce Wayne. After Kathryn told her the story in detail, much to Elise's dismay, her friend only asked one question. A question that the doctor couldn't answer at first. How could Kathryn keep this from her best friend?
"You can't answer that question, can you?" Elise challenged softly, ignoring a tear that dropped onto her cheek. "Can you?!"
"I...I'm sorry, Lise," Kathryn apologized, knowing it wouldn't do any good. She kept this big secret from her friend for weeks. The trust between them snapped in half. It will take a long time for Kathryn to mend it together again.
"You know you have to do better than that," Elise snapped. She couldn't believe this. Her best friend had lied to her and sneaked around behind her back willingly.
"I can't believe you are dating him! I mean, why would you even consider...? He's a creep, Kathryn! A Cray-Crane!"
Kathryn couldn't take it anymore. It's bad enough that Elise found out, but now she's slaughtering Crane out of spite. Jonathan wasn't here to defend his actions. Therefore, Kathryn, as his girlfriend, must act on his behalf.
"See?" Kathryn pointed at her friend angrily. "Right there. There's your answer. That's why I couldn't tell you! You would judge me, put Jonathan down, call him names for no reason!"
Elise rolled her eyes.
"And who are you to judge me for dating a tyrant? When you do nothing but fuck old men for profit?!"
Silence evaded the room. Elise felt like someone had taken a stab at her self-esteem. Kathryn should regret saying those words but didn't. Elise should be the one to understand better than anyone.
"I've never once judged you for your actions," her eyes matched Elise's as they, too, became watery. "I'd supported you even when one of them stole your freakin' car! My god, Lise! Sam Pohill, the man you set me up with, turned out to be a jerk! Do you see a pattern? I sure do!"
Elise folded her arms and averted her eyes towards the window, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"But when the tables are turned, when I'm the one who picked a guy for my own - a guy who treats me with dinners, flowers, and gifts," Kathryn instinctively pulled the locket from underneath her blouse, Elise was taken back by the sparkling gem in the middle. Jonathan gave that to her?
Kathryn continued her rant, "and whispers sweet things to me - you go crazy!"
Elise bit her lower lip, squeezing her eyes shut as the tears flowed.
"I love him," Kathryn declared in a whisper.
Love? Kathryn was in love with Cray Crane? This was too much for Elise to take in.
"Lise, I need you to keep this between us and accept my relationship." Her demand finally gained some eye contact. Kathryn swallowed at the sight of her friend's puffy gaze. She looked broken, like someone had smashed her soul into a million pieces. The doctor remained firm, "I mean it, Lise. If you can't be here for me as my friend, the same way I was there for you, then we shouldn't be-"
The ringing phone downstairs interrupted the doctor's rant. Elise silently hurried downstairs to take the call. Kathryn peered over the stairwell to watch Elise from the distance. The blonde had her back turned the whole time, occasionally checking over her shoulder to see Kathryn watching her. A constant habit of keeping her side job a secret from family and friends; only they knew the truth already. Kathryn didn't bother asking who was on the phone. A sugar daddy required Elise's company. Either Elise would return to the condo or stay at a hotel all night.
Kathryn did ask whether or not Elise would keep her secret. Her friend promised that they would discuss it later. Right now, she has a job to do. The doctor couldn't help but grab her phone to call her boyfriend, only to reach his voicemail. Instead of trying him again, she sent him a text message instead.
~000~000~000~
Jonathan silenced his phone to discuss business, not with Arkham but with Gotham's crime boss. Falcone summoned him into his office, wanting a favor. He said it as much the second Crane had sat down.
"No more favors," Jonathan refused. "Someone is sniffing around."
Falcone raised a brow at Jonathan, leaning back against his chair. "Hey, I scratch your back, you scratch mine, Doc. I'm bringing in the shipments."
"We are paying you for that," Jonathan reminded him.
"Maybe money isn't as interesting to me as favors."
Jonathan sighed heavily before taking off his glasses. "I am more than aware that you are not intimidated by me, Mr. Falcone. But you know who I'm working for, and when he gets here-"
"He..." Falcone interrupted, "He's coming to Gotham?"
"Yes, he is," Jonathan confirmed before finishing his sentence, "and when he gets here, he's not going to want to hear that you've endangered our operation just to get your thugs out of jail time."
Falcone sighed, pausing in deep thought. Having rats around was indeed bad for business. He finally asked the essential question, "Who's bothering you?"
"There's a girl at the DA's office."
"We'll buy her off."
Jonathan shook his head, "Not this one."
Falcone scoffed, "Idealist, huh? Well, there's an answer to that too."
"I don't want to know."
"Yes, you do."
'He's right,' Scarecrow taunted Jonathan's mind.
'Shut up!' Jonathan mentally snapped at his other half before turning back to Falcone. "Let me rephrase that... I don't need to know."
Falcone rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Name?"
"Rachel Dawes," Jonathan answered without hesitation.
Falcone wrote the name down in squiggly writing on his notepad. "Fear not, Doctor Crane," Falcone reassured him, oblivious to the twitch in Jonathan's eye. "She will no longer be a problem, no more."
"Good," Jonathan stood up from his chair to retrieve his coat. "As soon as she's gone, we will be back in business. Now, if there's nothing else to discuss, I really must attend to my normal business. Good day, Mr. Falcone." He turned away from the mob boss, heading straight for the door.
"Say, Doc," Falcone called out to Jonathan again, whose hand remained on the door handle and didn't bother to turn around. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Jonathan raised a questionable brow in the man's direction. "Oh?"
"That girl in Arkham. What was her name again?" Falcone asked. "Katie Nightingale?"
'Kathryn Knightly,' Jonathan mentally corrected, clenching his jaw tightly. Why was Falcone bringing her up? How did he know her?
Falcone dismissed the name and continued, "Anyway, my good guys have been watching her for some time now."
Jonathan instantly tightened his fist against the handle of his briefcase, but his look stayed the same. He wasn't sure what Falcone was planning or why he was watching Kathryn, but for his sake, Falcone better not do anything to her.
"Oh really?" Jonathan asked. Falcone motioned Crane to sit back down; Jonathan reluctantly did.
"Other than the obvious fact that she's a good-looking girl, I noticed you two are pretty close," Falcone couldn't help but smirk with amusement. "Too close to be just 'co-doctors in Arkham'," Falcone air quoted the words as he released a chuckle or two.
Jonathan pinched his brows together, acting confused as to what Falcone was saying. He wanted to believe in wishful thinking, that it was all one big joke, a ploy to rile him up as usual. Kathryn and Jonathan's secret relationship couldn't be exposed, not now. If Falcone knew about them and planned on using this against Jonathan, then the psychiatrist would have no choice but to take drastic measures, anything to keep that nosy mobster quiet. In a way, he could be doing Gotham a favor - becoming their silent savior, purging filth like Falcone.
"I don't know what you-"
Falcone raised his hand, silencing Jonathan. "Let me save your breath, Doc, and show you what I mean." Falcone opened his top drawer and pulled out a folder. He carelessly dropped it on his desk. "Of course, we both know what I'm talking about. Am I right, Doc?"
Jonathan laid his eyes on the folder that was desperate to be opened. Curiosity took hold of Jonathan as he grabbed the folder and opened it.
His breath hitched at a photo of Kathryn coming out of the Arkham building. He flipped another page to see her again; only Jonathan was with her this time. The first set of pictures mostly contained the two walking down the street, talking outside a coffee shop. There was nothing out of the ordinary so far.
More of them were at a Mexican restaurant, sitting by the patio, laughing and holding hands. Again, nothing was wrong, except people might raise their brows at the latter.
Jonathan turned to the next page, and his heartbeat fastened. The couple embraced on Jonathan's terrace. His world ended at the last photo - an up-close image of them kissing.
Jonathan couldn't figure out how Falcone's photographer took the last photo when his apartment was three floors high. That question obviously wasn't important.
"Did my man take great photos or what?" Falcone asked, forming a smug look on his face. Jonathan cleared his throat as he stacked the photos together.
"Outstanding," he answered sarcastically. "Give my compliments to your photographer for me."
Falcone chuckled, "Oh, I will. I paid him good money to have those photos."
"So... you are stalking me now?"
"Don't take it personally, Crane. I don't do business with a guy without finding out his dirty secrets. Honestly, I was kinda shocked when I first saw the photos. I mean, that girl is way out of your league," Falcone laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair.
"And your point, Mr. Falcone?!" Jonathan demanded angrily.
Falcone's laughing came to a brief halt, resuming the serious facade, "What does she know?"
"Nothing," Jonathan answered.
"Nothing?" Falcone asked in a non-believing tone.
"Yes," Jonathan persisted. "Nothing, and I intend to keep it that way."
Falcone reached his arm over his desk for the photos lying on Jonathan's lap. Jonathan stared at the pictures, then at Falcone's extended limb.
"Of course," Jonathan grumbled. Before he put the photos back in the folder, Jonathan did what Falcone didn't expect, an immature act of desperation. Jonathan tore the photos into small bits. Falcone lowered his arm and stared at Jonathan in disbelief. The images had been ripped so that they couldn't be taped together. Jonathan carelessly dropped the folder back on Falcone's desk, allowing the tiny pieces of paper to puff out and scatter, making a huge mess.
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk," Falcone shook his head in disapproval and disappointment. "Doc, you should really know by now that you're not facing an idiot. Did it occur to you that I might have an album of this" Falcone gestured to the torn pieces on his desk, "back at home?"
Jonathan didn't answer him but already knew the obvious.
"Man, if Doctor Arkham saw those pictures, he might fire your ass and your 'friend'. It would be a shame to see all your talents and potential going to waste... again."
"So... it has come to this, hasn't it, Mr. Falcone?" Jonathan challenged. "Blackmail?"
"Blackmail is a strong word, Doctor Crane. Think of this as a... negotiation. You keep my men out of jail, and I'll keep the incriminating photos safe. It's a win-win situation when you think about it."
"I can't declare those thugs insane every time; that'll only ignite suspicion."
"Doc. Doc. Doc. Nobody gives a damn about what happens to my men. I own this city!"
"What about Miss Dawes?"
"She'll be taken care of... As long as my thugs are not in Blackgate, I'll be a happy man." Falcone showed off his grin.
Jonathan frowned, imagining the worst ways to end this monster once and for all.
'Don't say I didn't warn you,' The suave voice of Summer Gleeson cooed in his thoughts.
'Man, when you didn't listen, you should've listened,' Scarecrow clicked his tongue in mock disappointment that ended with a chuckle.
Jonathan wanted to punch that smug off Falcone's face, but brutal violence wasn't one of Jonathan's strongholds. Jonathan was rational; he would make a move when the time was right.
"So what do you say, Doc?" Falcone asked.
Jonathan stared at him with intense hate before sighing heavily at the shredded photos. There was no other choice at the moment but to agree.
The door opened abruptly without an invite.
"Mr. Falcone, I'm ready for dinner. Let's get a move..."
Jonathan froze when he whirled his head to see the troublemaker dressed in a fur coat. The blonde's expression was identical to Jonathan's. She, too, was shocked to see him of all places.
"Miss Sinclair," Falcone greeted her with the same cocky grin. "Perfect timing, as always."
Miss Sinclair? Jonathan choked back a laugh. It didn't take a genius to know that it wasn't her real name. She had a good reason not to use it, of course. The last thing this call girl needed was someone stalking her and putting her roommate in danger.
"Dr. Crane, thank you for your time. I will call you later to discuss... further arrangements," he winked at Crane before grabbing his coat and hat from the rack.
Jonathan didn't need Falcone to tell him to leave. He saw himself out after greeting Miss Sinclair with a mischievous smirk.
"See you around... Miss Sinclair."
The sugar baby tensed up on cue and involuntarily gulped, knowing she was in big trouble. Kathryn's text message to Jonathan was the final nail in the blonde's coffin.
'Elise knows about us. I'm sorry. Please, call me.
...
Jonathan had spent an hour on the phone with Kathryn, assuring her that everything would be alright - that he wasn't mad at Kathryn for spilling the beans. No one could keep secrets from roommates, no matter how hard one tried - one of the many reasons why Jonathan was better off living alone. He had a feeling this would happen. No matter. He would take care of Miss Berg, despite Kathryn saying that she would convince Elise to keep her mouth shut.
He parked his car by one of Falcone's safe havens - The Royal Hotel. A real mob boss should know better than to stay in one place. Jonathan was staking outside, waiting for the blonde to come out. Fortunately, he didn't have to stake out all night. The look on her frightened face was priceless as he honked the horn for her attention. She looked both ways before approaching his opened passenger window.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed. "Did you follow me here?"
"Don't act so surprised, Miss Berg. I told you I'd see you around," Jonathan nudged his head, indicating for Elise to get inside the car. With a frustrated growl under her breath, she reluctantly stepped inside.
"Don't get any ideas. My brother's a cop. He taught me everything he knows about dealing with scum."
"I'm sure he did, but fear not, Miss Berg. I'm only here to chat," Jonathan looked over his shoulder for cars before shifting back to traffic. "You want to know what I was discussing with Mr. Falcone," he spoke nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "When the affiliation started, and how long it has been going on - all that good stuff, and you deserve to know, you do. How about I give you a little recap?"
"I'm aware that you're a scumbag!"
"Yeah, I'll recap anyway, so we're on the same page. "
"Kathryn knows about my side job. I'm not a hooker if that's what you're implying. I'm a sugar baby. Nothing illegal about it."
"First of all, Miss Berg. I don't care if you're fucking Falcone for money and lingerie; that's none of my business."
"You damn right!"
"Although, I doubt Kathryn is made aware that Falcone owns your little condo. Otherwise, she wouldn't have moved in with you in the first place. Am I right?" Her silence said it all. "Yes? I thought so."
"Does Kathryn know you're two-timing her with Falcone?" Elise threw back Jonathan's question. The man sighed in response. Elise expected to hear more, "Aren't you going to ask how I know you two are together?"
"No need, Miss Berg," he stopped at the traffic light behind two cars. The red illuminated his face, which made him more menacing. "She called me." Elise felt the unpleasant shivers as he cast a glare in her direction. It almost reminded her of the devil trying to steal away her soul. She tried to keep a straight face, but her breathing change gave her away.
Fortunately, the light turned green, finally initiating the cars to resume the slow pace - too slow for Elise's liking. Why did there have to be heavy traffic around this time of night?
"You may not believe me, Miss Berg," Crane softened, looking back on the road. "Unlike you, my participation in this game is not by choice."
"Oh, really?" Elise asked in a non-believing tone. "You could've fooled me."
"I'm serious," he insisted. "As you know, Falcone is an extortionist."
"What does he have over you? Stalking women?"
"Kathryn."
Elise's lips parted after that declaration. What did Kathryn have to do with this?
"Don't you realize that Falcone has friends all over?" Jonathan challenged. "Ones that are capable of taking incriminating pictures?"
"Why are they taking pictures of Kathryn? Because of you-"
"Because of you, Miss Berg."
Elise blinked, "Excuse me?"
"No, Miss Berg, you're not excused. Not yet," Jonathan steered left on Cameron Street. "I am the chief administrator of Arkham, the most reliable psychiatrist in Arkham."
"What's your point?"
"My point is that since my promotion, Falcone has attempted to bribe me to keep his men out of jail. Of course, I declined. The only way he could convince me to do his bidding is to have leverage over me, which he succeeded, thanks to your assistance."
"I didn't tell him anything about you, nor do I want to," Elise argued. "I just found out about your relationship status tonight."
"You didn't have to say anything. He simply followed your trail. First, Kathryn; then me. He wouldn't have known about us if it weren't for you."
Elise scoffed, "You can't honestly blame me for this. You two shouldn't have started fucking in the first place! If Falcone had threatened you into committing perjury, that's on you! If you and Kat get fired for stupidity, that's on you two, not me!"
"And if the police find her dead? Who is to blame for that?"
Elise took a minute to realize that she wasn't breathing. "What do you mean?" she exhaled quietly, and her eyes started to burn.
"Let's not go around in circles, Miss Berg. You know exactly what I mean."
Elise scoffed, "C'mon, Crane. I know Falcone is a gangster but not a stupid one. He wouldn't dare-"
"This is Gotham City, Miss Berg. People disappear every day. If we slip up, Kathryn is our consequence. She will be gone, and you will never get a cent from her again."
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Elise waved her hand, now offended. "Let me stop you right there before you start accusing me of shit. First of all-"
"Does Falcone give you a paycheck after every date?" he interrupted.
"Not directly. He handed the school a check when I needed money for college tuition. After that, he sends out expensive gifts like clothes, designer shoes, and-"
"And a condo?" Jonathan added.
"Yes, all of it!" Elise cried, waving her hands all over before gesturing herself. "So why do I need Kathryn's money for?"
"My apologies, Miss Berg," Jonathan's tone lacked sincerity. "I'm just having a hard time understanding one thing."
Elise scoffed and rolled her eyes, "And what's that?"
"Falcone owns the condo you and Kathryn are currently living in."
"Yes..."
"But weren't you and Kathryn supposed to be splitting the rent fee together - fifty-fifty?"
Elise's mouth parted, but nothing came out except a few uh's and um's. Jonathan's corner mouth twitched. To think he wasn't cut out being a lawyer. That woman was so full of herself that she didn't realize she was digging a grave for herself, and now he got her - hook, line, and sinker.
"Or maybe Kathryn lied to cover your ass and cashed out her paycheck to a bank. It's possible. If that's the case, you have my sincere apologies, Miss Berg." Before Elise could find her voice, Jonathan reached for his phone in the cup holder, "However, I do feel better if we give Kathryn a call so we can clear up this little misunderstanding. Lay all our cards out on the table, so to speak. How about it, Miss Berg?"
"No!" Elise reached for the device. Jonathan didn't protest or struggle this time as she snatched it from his hand. They didn't need the phone call to know that Crane had just proven his point. His smug face said it all while she was fuming. He shifted his gaze from the road to enjoy the scenery beside him, only to notice something significant.
"You might want to fix yourself, Miss Berg," Jonathan gestured his chest. Elise huffed, pulling her sweetheart neckline dress up and concealing the cleavage with her fur coat. The man chuckled, mostly to himself than her. Either way, the woman didn't appreciate the mockery.
"Shut up," she snapped.
"Tell me, what do you intend to do with the money? Start an escape fund? I hate to say this, Miss Berg, but your alias can't protect your identity. Falcone knows who you are. I mean, come on. Miss Sinclair? Couldn't you find a name that doesn't come from adult entertainment?"
That comment earned a slap in the face, knocking his glasses off his face. He nearly crashed another car, receiving the loud horn, muffled screaming, and the birdie from another driver.
Jonathan huffed with annoyance but remained civil. Elise continued staring at him in rage, ready to throw another punch.
"You're not going to say anything to Kathryn nor anyone else about this, or I swear to God I will-"
"Good, so we agree."
"Agree?" Elise blinked. "To do what?"
"Well, for one thing: keep your mouth shut about tonight. Kathryn can't know about our involvement with Falcone. She can't know about the danger she's in. Until we take down Falcone ourselves-"
"Whoa!" Elise lifted a hand. "Hold on. Did you say 'we'? I know you have a massive ego and all with a PH.D., but come on! Do you seriously think we can take down the biggest crime lord in this city?" If only Miss Berg knew that Jonathan wasn't including her. "I know better than to ask questions and snitch to the cops, especially my brother." Confiding in Randy did come to Elise's mind many times, but the last thing she needed was an obnoxious lecture from him. Worse, receive a lecture from their mother for getting her son killed. If Elise gets lucky, Falcone might shoot her first so she won't have to hear it. "or else my head -"
"Will be spiked on a pike," Jonathan finished. "I remember. However, the DA is dying to get their hands on Falcone and the physical evidence that could put him away for a long time. Falcone is a powerful man, but he's not perfect. He will make a mistake, and we will be there when he does."
"Nice plan and all," she complimented sarcastically, "but I'm sure the police will be thorough when searching through his stuff. They will look into his bank accounts, emails, and phone records - they will know everything and then knock on our door for questioning. Kathryn will know about it, and she won't have anything to do with us ever again. Either way, we're screwed."
"Which is why... we need to erase our trace first."
Elise widened her eyes and glared at the doctor in shock. He was speaking as if breaking the law was normal. Then again, this was Gotham City.
"Jesus," she whispered, "where did you get the balls to suggest something like that?"
"Miss Berg, do you honestly think you could attend law school?" Jonathan challenged. Elise narrowed her eyes at Crane, not taking kindly to his insult. However, a part of her believed the painful words to be true.
"I mean, you have the looks and the killer smile, I give you that. Even if you succeed in raising your LSAT score, all it takes is one background check, Miss Berg - just one - to end you once and for all." Jonathan raised his brows at another thought in mind, "Or maybe that's not necessarily true. Suppose you walk into the admissions office and put that big mouth of yours to work-"
"Fuck you, Crane!" Elise snapped, couldn't take his voice anymore.
"No, thank you, Miss Berg," he retorted in boredom. "I have a girlfriend."
She growled and clenched her hair in frustration.
"You may not like me, and trust me, the feeling is mutual. But we need each other to crawl out of the hole you dig for us in the first place." Elise opened her mouth to argue, but Jonathan overpowered her with his authoritative tone. "You did, and now Kathryn's a target because of your greed. You might be pretending to be her friend, but she is your friend. You owe her."
Elise rested her head against the seat, closing her eyes to hold back the tears. They remained quiet throughout the drive. Jonathan had switched off the radio ahead of time. It had given Elise plenty of time to think over her selfish actions and possible consequences. Jonathan Crane may be an asshole, but he was right. Elise should've known better than to ask her best friend to come live with her. She thought she was careful, but unfortunately, that wasn't enough. If Elise or Jonathan try to back out or say the two-lettered word to the big man, Kathryn must pay with a single bullet.
"What are we going to do?" her voice cracked at the end. Her eyes burned red, and her lids swelled.
"Right now, you are going to go up to your precious condo," Jonathan pointed at the familiar gate before them. Elise realized that Jonathan had driven her back home. "Be the best friend you could be and tell Kathryn..."
...
"Okay," Elise whispered. She returned upstairs after cleaning up her face.
"Okay?" Kathryn was on the couch, not entirely sure what Elise meant.
"Okay... I - I won't say anything... about you and Crane," the blonde declared, sounding more forced than genuine. Fortunately, Kathryn didn't question it as she breathed out with relief, closing her eyes to enjoy the moment of serenity.
"Thank you," the psychologist whispered.
"Don't thank me," Elise grumbled. "We both know that you would do the same for me... if I were in your shoes."
Kathryn nodded, "Yes, I would. Trust me, Elise. Jonathan is a good man; you just need to give him a-"
"I said I won't tell," Elise retorted coldly. "But it doesn't change how I feel about him. And it doesn't mean I can pretend to be happy for you because I can't. Not after everything... he did to you."
Kathryn pressed her lips together, not liking her friend's honesty fully. Yet, she accepted it as a start. If she was lucky, maybe Elise and Jonathan could find a way to coexist.
For now, her friend stomped towards the bathroom door, slamming it shut without a word.
Kathryn sighed, running her fingers through her curls as she listened to Elise sobbing inside. She could've knocked on the door to check on her, but Kathryn believed it was best if they kept their distance for the night. For that, she retreated upstairs to watch TV.
~000~000~000~
The hotshot reporter's story about the resurrected heir of Wayne Enterprises had received many viewers and praise from fans, colleagues, and Alexander Richards. She celebrated the night with drinks at a club, then returned home with a playmate.
He grunted and hissed at the stinging sensation on his back as Summer Gleeson pushed his shirtless self out of her loft.
"Damn, woman! Easy!" he cried, slipping a T-Shirt back on.
"Oh, quit being a big baby!"
"A big baby?! You clawed my back! I think I'm still bleeding!"
"You're not the only one, boo," Summer grumbled, earning a baffled look from the man.
"Are you heavy or light?"
Now it was Summer's turn to give the man a disgusted look. Why did he want to know about that? "Get the fuck out, you fucking creep. I need to prep for tomorrow, and I'll be damned if I go out without my face on."
"Okay. okay! Geez!" To think celebrities were supposed to be nice in real life and on TV.
Summer shoved the man outside, not bothering to hear what he had to say, as she slammed the door in his face. She assumed it was either the sentimental goodbye or the anticipating question of whether he would see her again. Of course, he would see her again in Good Morning, Gotham at seven. Summer might have to file a restraining order if he dared come over again.
The reporter hummed quietly, approaching the bar to pour herself a nightcap. She couldn't help but glance over the newspaper article regarding her news coverage.
BRUCE WAYNE RETURNS FROM THE DEAD!
The woman wasn't infatuated by the man's clean face and smoldering brown eyes. He was no different than any other tycoon in the nation. He was only a rouse to keep her face on the big screen. The other hopeless reporters couldn't hold a candle to her. She was the one with the tippers, not them. People wanted to see her, not newcomer Lydia Filangeri. Sure, Summer had received help from above, but that's how life in the newsroom works. It was a race to find the best story and then broadcast it on TV.
Her thoughts ceased when Bruce Wayne's face became blurry.
She overpoured her martini glass, spilling it all over her counter. The newspaper was absorbing the mess.
"Shit!" she set the bottle down and shook the excess off her hands. Summer popped a pill, then slurped a sip from her glass. She used a crumpled newspaper as a towel to clean the mess, only to hear someone knocking on her door. She groaned and tilted her head back in exhaustion, didn't have time for these disruptions. She could've sworn she had told what's-his-face to leave.
Nonetheless, she walked down the hallway towards the door but didn't open it. She may feel buzzed from the drinks, but she wasn't stupid.
Summer peeked through the peephole only to see someone's eye on the other side, staring back at her, unblinking.
She gasped and backed away from the door, quietly checking to see if all the locks were intact. Maybe if she ignored him, he would go away.
He pounded the door and jiggled the knob. Was it a drunk mistaking her apartment for his? A neighbor? No, someone knew she was home alone, and he wanted to get inside to hurt her. Maybe the creepy playmate didn't take kindly to her comment.
"Oh, fuck!" she hurried back into the kitchen to grab a knife from the set and picked up the phone to dial 911. Before she could finish the digits, the phone rang. She couldn't help but scream with fright, dropping the phone.
The woman picked it back up and answered the call while peering around the corner, hoping that the mystery creep was gone. Unfortunately, he was still banging on the door.
"H-Hello? Help. Please help!"
"Miss Gleeson?"
Summer pinched her brows in confusion, "Crane?"
"You seem jumpy, Miss Gleeson," his voice uttered concern, though there was a slight hint of laughter in his tone. "Is everything alright?"
"No," she replied. "No, I'm not okay. There's some creep trying to get inside my apartment, scaring the shit out of me!"
"Really?"
"Yes, really. You think I would fucking joke about this?! No! Now call the police!"
"Now. Now, Miss Gleeson. Take a deep breath. Don't get excited. Why don't you pour yourself a drink while I take care of things? Hm?" Summer didn't take his suggestion. Instead, she listened to the beeps and rings on the other line. Crane dialed a number from another phone but didn't disconnect their call.
"Yes, I would like to report a possible break-in..."
Her heartbeat lessened as she intently listened to Crane's voice.
"No, sir, not at my place-"
"My place!" Summer cried. "He's at my place!"
"Hold on..." Crane addressed the reporter for answers. "He wants to know your address."
Summer answered without hesitation while Crane repeated it for the dispatcher.
"Is he inside your home?"
"No."
"Can you lock yourself in a room until they get there?"
"Yes! I'm going to my room right now," she didn't leave without taking the overflowed glass of gin with her. She doused the liquid, attempting to soothe her nerves as she hurried inside the bedroom, locking the door. She gripped the knife's handle, ready to stab the creep if he managed to get in.
"He says to be quiet and stay calm. Help is on the way."
"Tell him to hurry!" Summer crouched down by her bed. "I can still hear him jiggling the knob."
"Just stay calm, Miss Gleeson. Let's conversate. Keep your mind off things. Have a drink."
"What is there to talk about?! Didn't the operator just tell me to be quiet? A guy is trying to break inside my property! God knows he could be a rapist!"
"Is that what you think, Miss Gleeson? Do you believe that every man is out to get you? How could you be certain it's a man outside and not some fangirl? Tell me, my dear, has a man ever taken advantage of you before?"
"I'm not in the mood for therapy, Crane!" Summer snapped. "Hello! I'm in the middle of a life-and-death situation!"
"Of course, Miss Gleeson. My apologies. I didn't mean to sound intrusive like you."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Summer squeezed her eyes shut from the sudden migraine stabbing her brain.
"Oh, I think you understand what I mean," he teased. "Come on, Miss Gleeson. Don't act so innocent; it doesn't suit you."
"Seriously? You want to fucking talk about your pity-ass self, now?! Someone out there wants to kill me!"
"Now. Now. Now. Miss Gleeson," Jonathan scolded. "You had your share of the spotlight. Now it's my turn. I want to talk about how you gossiped about my personal affairs to Falcone behind my back. Was I the star topic this time or the second?"
"Does it matter?! So what if I did mention you to Falcone? I told you, Crane. I told you about paying the piper, but you didn't listen!"
"Falcone could've figured it out himself," his voice deepened, and his tone became hostile. "You didn't have to speed up the process."
"What is this? Middle school?! This isn't a fucking popularity contest; this is business! My job is to seek the truth!"
"Yes, then you twist it in your favor for profit and fame."
"You mean you're not having a scandalous affair with one of your doctors in Arkham?"
"If I did, that's none of your business. You should learn to never stick your nose job where it doesn't belong!" Jonathan Crane didn't confirm nor deny the accusation.
"You brought this on yourself!" she pointed out, nearly forgetting about the creep outside. "I've been watching, Crane. Listening! You think you can screw me over and walk away?! Think again! I'm going to teach you a lesson! You and Falcone! It's a lesson that both of you could never forget! Your girlfriend sure won't! She will know what kind of man you really are! Gotham will know! I'll even tell the police as soon as they get here! And when I'm done, you and Falcone will rot in jail for the rest of your miserable days! You hear me, Crane?"
Summer expected the boy to piss himself. Maybe he did but didn't bother to admit it. Instead, Jonathan only released an aggravated sigh, and then there was silence - both Crane and her loft. The intruder stopped hassling her door. He must've left. She raised herself back on her feet, only to stumble slightly at the sudden head spin.
"Summer..."
What did he just call her?
"Calm down. Have a drink... but don't mix it with the Valium you've left on the kitchen counter." Was it just her, or was Crane's voice getting deeper - almost demonic?
"I've already... taken..." Summer froze, pinching her brows and averting her narrowed eyes from the patterned rug. The pressure in her head increased. She used the bed frame for support.
"Hello? Summer? Are you there?"
"How did you know I was taking Valium? How did you know where..."
Her eyes flashed back to the creep eye through the peephole.
"You didn't call the police, did you?" she whispered. Her eyes blinked rapidly as her vision began to shift.
"No, Summer..."
The reporter jumped as the bedroom door kicked open, colliding the knob against the doorstopper with a bang.
"Crane did not."
Summer dropped the knife without thought. Her mind couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. What was he doing here?
His eyes descended to the floor where the tipped martini glass lay. He chuckled, "I can tell you have taken your medicine. What a good girl you are. Such a good girl."
"No, you stay... stay right there - stay..." Summer stumbled back on the bed, attempting to keep her distance as he approached her. "Stay away! You can't! You can't be here!" Her chest tightened, becoming harder to breathe. All the memories came flooding back just by seeing his face, not the mask.
"But the lesson has just begun, Summer. Why end it so soon?"
"Don't come in any closer! I have a knife!"
The intruder tilted his head in confusion, "You mean..." he crouched down to pick up the knife the woman dropped, "this knife?"
Summer's eyes widened and quickly rolled off the other side of the bed, stumbling her way toward the exit. The room was spinning. She was still stuttering words as if the perp was close by.
"Please... don't touch me again... I'll... I'll tell on you."
The intruder snorted with amusement. He very much doubted that would happen. Listening to her rambling, he pieced together the reporter's greatest fear - an abuser from her past. Her father, perhaps.
"You're being naughty, Summer," the abuser clicked his tongue and shook his head in dismay. "Good little girls shouldn't behave like this. Get over here now or be punished."
Thanks to the pantyhose she was wearing, Summer slipped on the hardwood floor, crawling towards the exit. She wasn't aware that she had bitten herself when falling, nor did she care about the blood seeping from her bottom lip.
"I'm going to count to three."
It seemed that with every drag closer to the door, it moved further away from her.
"One."
The drug was mind-numbing, overpowering her instincts and soon her body.
"Two."
She couldn't give up. Just a little further. Summer reached for the doorknob. Her fingers brushed the metal.
"Three!"
Summer screeched as two hands grabbed her ankles, dragging her away from the exit. Her raking nails and scampering arms were weak compared to the intruder's grip. She begged, screamed out for 'Daddy,' but it didn't sway him to stop. He didn't rape her, only toyed with her and taunted her. He didn't have to touch her to get a reaction. She was kind enough to share her dark past with him. Scarecrow was fifty percent right. She was sexually assaulted by an authority figure, not by a family member or a friend, but by her most trusted mentor back in college. How tragic.
The headless horseman chased his victim in circles until he eventually got bored. The legend said that death occurred when he stopped riding his horse.
Scarecrow could see the headlines now: Ding Dong! The Witch is Dead!
