You scrambled to find your phone through your bag on the couch, cursing under your breath about how you forgot to turn the sound back on, and when you pulled it out, there was over twenty missed calls from Jim along with Leslie. When the phone rang again, you quickly answered it.

"I've been trying to reach you for so long, are you okay?" he asked in an urgent tone.

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm okay," you reassured him, and he breathed a sigh of relief the second he heard your voice.

"Thank God you're okay," he sounded assuaged for a moment before he added, "there's been a breakout at Arkham. Six inmates escaped," he started, pausing briefly, "one of them was Jerome. Please tell me you're at home," he said, and it was evident how overwrought he was.

"Yes, I'm home," you answered.

"Good, now please just stay where you are. Don't go anywhere," he implored, "the police will be outside the apartment any moment now, so you're gonna be fine. I swear I won't let anything happen to you," he promised, yet his voice was still thick with dread.

"Okay, I'll stay where I am. Please be careful, Dad, I love you," you told him earnestly.

"I love you too, I'll be there as soon as I can," he assured before he hung up the phone.

A moment after your phone call with Jim ended, Leslie was calling, and you answered it immediately, reassuring her that you were okay and that Jim was going to have the police posted outside the building. She sounded hysterical. She told you to stay on the phone with her until they showed up. You paced around and around until they finally did, the police sirens blaring as the cars crowded just outside. When she finally hung up, you sat back on the sofa in front of the living room. You were shaking, your knees knocking against one another, lower lip quivering, heart pounding rapidly in your chest as you stared blankly across the room.

You realized you didn't fear for your life, no, instead there was a strong feeling of anticipation, which was the strangest thing. You were practically vibrating with excitement. You wanted to see him, and you knew there was something very wrong about that. This was what you had been waiting for, as much as you couldn't bring yourself to admit that. You had to convince yourself that it wasn't true, that you were just as scared as the next person about these news. He was a murderer. How many times were you going to tell yourself that?

You raced back to the window, taking a peek through the blinds to see if the police was still there. They were. You were safe. It was all going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. There was no way that any of the escapees would break in here with the police protecting you.

"Miss me, gorgeous?"

A familiar voice said from behind you, though it wasn't anything like the way it was before, it was ominous, threatening, no longer timid or soft-spoken, much more sure of itself. You whipped your head back and gasped upon seeing the ginger stepping out of your kitchen and standing before you in your living room, your breath hitching. You clasped your hands over your mouth, and he merely laughed at your reaction, grinning menacingly as he started to slowly approach you. His gaze slid from your eyes to your mouth, registering the slight tremble in your bottom lip; it flickered over every part of you. He wasn't ashamed to let you see him drink you in, catching his tongue between his teeth for an instant before it was dampening his lips and in turn - though involuntarily, you didn't hide the way your breath shook as you inhaled. There was no way to disguise the fact that you were committing every destructively beautiful area of his face to memory: sloping nose with a white-toothed grin beneath it, those sharp cheekbones of his, the loose strand of auburn hair falling over his forehead, you didn't ever want to forget it.

How did he get in? He must have came up the fire escape and through the kitchen window, somehow. You couldn't believe it. All those nights thinking about him, how you wished he would come back, and here he was. Deep down, you weren't surprised nor fearful. You got a strange sense that he wasn't here to kill you, and you were simply impressed with his bold move of showing up in your home, however you weren't going to let Jerome see that.

Your hands slowly dropped from your mouth when there was hardly a distance between you two, and your back accidentally bumped up against the wall as you stepped back and he followed.

"I said, did you miss me?" he asked again, voice no higher than a hypnotically low murmur, his grin widening as he leaned close to you, body brushing against yours tauntingly before he pulled back, not daring to press himself against you. "A promise is a promise, doll. Since it's been so long, I was hoping for at least a 'hello' or 'I've missed you', that's just good manners, you know," he mocked.

"No," you managed through a stutter, "no, no I didn't," you repeated, trying to convince yourself once more that was true.

"Why? Is it because you're scared of me, now?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with a mock-pout, and you didn't meet his piercing gaze, turning away as a shiver ran down your spine because he was so close. "Where's that girl who raced to comfort me in my trailer? Huh? I bet that girl misses me," he reminded. "C'mon, let me talk to her. I know she wants me," he cooed before more of his roguish laughter spilled out.

"You're a killer, Jerome," you told him in a whisper, willing your voice to remain steady.

"Yeah I heard that too, it's a pretty accurate analysis I agree," he taunted with a dark, boisterous laugh as he inched his face closer to yours, allowing that small space between you two to be swallowed up. "How does it feel to be this close to one?" he questioned as he ran his long fingers down the pulse in your throat, his eyes locked on yours, those black pits staring deep within your own, and it made a spike of adrenaline shoot through your body, your heart thudding in anticipation, in lust. You leaned back against the wall, consumed by heat, from the tips of your toes to the palms of your hands. You were burning up at the sight of him, and it was a wonder that you didn't dissolve into ashes before him.

You didn't answer, remaining silent because you couldn't give up the impression that this was what you wanted, for him to come here. You were scared, scared for your life like everyone else was, there wasn't any part of you that longed for this moment. He was tracing odd patterns on the hollow of your neck, humming appreciatively while he did. He was mesmerizing, from the way the side of his mouth curved into a smile to the slip of his tongue over his lower lip, nose crinkling in amusement as you stared back at him in what he thought might have been awe.

"Aw, are you still mad at me for lying to you? Did Jim tell you everything before I was sent to Arkham?" he jested with a chuckle, "I didn't lie about everything. As I recall, I did say we would see each other again, and well, here I am."

"The police are just outside, I'll scream for them if you try any-"

"Tell me dollface, how are you going to scream if your neck is split open? You'll be too busy choking on your own blood," he teased in a raspy voice, cackling as if this was all some big joke. Your eyes widened upon his words, swallowing a thick gulp at that, your body taut with tension. You were crazy to want to see him again if that was what he was going to do. You should have known better. He pressed his body into yours just that slightest bit when he continued, "I'm kidding, sweet cheeks, can't you take a joke? I ain't gonna kill you," he laughed again, before muttering under his breath, "not yet anyway."

"Again, kidding," he added with a vile smile that didn't quite reach his eyes when he saw you make a move to try and slip away from him. He wrapped a fist around both of your wrists before holding them above your head on the wall, locking them in place, making you flinch underneath him. "Learn how to take a joke. I'm not here for that."

Your phone started ringing in the pocket of your skirt and the sound of it instantly made him scowl. "Don't answer that," he hissed the order out, and it wasn't like you had any choice but to ignore the call as the tune continued. "Well it's not like you could even if you wanted to," he jeered.

"What do you want, Jerome?" you asked, voice shaking as you spoke.

"That's a good question, doll, what do I want? Personally I think it's more of a who than a what, but we can go with that too, if that works for you," he smiled wickedly with a devilish gleam in his eyes, and he leaned his mouth close to the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning against the skin there. Your whole body shivered with it, and you found your body instinctively inching closer to his own as you mentally cursed yourself for it.

You knew it was wrong, in every sense of the word, but you couldn't help it. You wanted him. You had it so bad for him, ever since that day you meant him, despite his lies and all the awful, disturbing truths about him. You still wanted him. You didn't know what that made you.

"Do you want me to spell it out for you?" he questioned in a rasp, and you nodded your head in response almost instantly. "You got it," he replied, dropping your wrists down before whipping out a scalpel out from his pocket, bringing it in close proximity to your face for a brief moment. He twirled it in his hand flippantly before he lifted up your blouse to reveal your stomach, and you emitted a loud whine in protest, shaking your head rapidly. This was what you were trying to tell yourself the whole time. That this was what he would do if he came back. He would kill you, rip you open piece by piece, slice you all over until he was satisfied, because this was who he was. A monster. He pressed the cool steel of the blade so that it was just laying on your skin, only poking with the edge of it briefly before he pulled it away, leaving your body completely unscathed. "Relax, dollface! What did I just say about taking a simple joke?"

You breathed a sigh of relief before you whispered under a harsh breath, "You're crazy. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with me. I just don't take life as seriously as you do, or like the bozos who actually believe they can protect you," he motioned his head over to the window where the cops were outside as he slipped the scalpel back in his pocket. "So why don't we head to my place? You know, where there won't be a ton of clown cars outside the building," he joked, that grin still stuck on his face. "That way I can show you, what do you say?"

"I'm not going anywhere," you replied, your tone lacking any sort of conviction.

"I won't take no for an answer," he rasped, his voice dripping with venom, "so I guess that means you're stuck with me," he added, his tone switching to one that was much more calm, you didn't understand how he could change his emotions on a whim.

There was a inner voice in the back of your head, screaming not to go with him, to put up a fight, to where he would have to force you against your will because like he said he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Maybe that was the thrilling part of it. You were not about to comply and just go with whatever he wanted. You were stronger than that. You didn't want him. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.

"Okay," you managed, silencing the voice in your head with that one word of complete and utter compliance.

His grin grew wider at that, if that was even possible before he grabbed your hand in his, lifting it up to his mouth before he planted a soft kiss on the skin. "As you wish, m'lady," he said in a sing-song tone, laughing as he took you out of the apartment through the window he came in through. He made his way down the fire escape with you, holding your hand tight in his own. "Oh, that's right, just wait here, this won't take long," he told you in a hum, leaving you by your lonesome on the staircase as he skipped his way off of it, joining the floor where all the police cars were lined up.

"Freeze! Put your hands in the air!" a cop shouted, and the others brought out their guns, all of them pointing at the ginger's direction. He cackled in response, managing to flee in the nick of time when they fired. He whipped his gun out and shot the officers down one by one as he stayed behind one of the cars, wounding some while others weren't so fortunate. He stepped away from the vehicle once he knew he had the advantage, spinning and twirling as he fired his gun, as if it was a toy. The shrill sound of the gunshots pierced your ears, making your whole body tremble violently as you covered them and cowered with your eyes shut tight. You couldn't see this.

This was crazy. What were you thinking? Did you expect that he would let them live? That he still had some kind of human decency left in him? What were you doing? You couldn't willingly go with this maniac, or else that would mean you were just as crazy as him. Before you could make a move to bolt out of there, he was already back and clasping your hand in his once again.

"C'mon, it's time to get the hell out of here before more of those shitheads show up," he barked before he added, "and now we've got a ride," he winked.