To any die-hard fans out there, I'm sorry some of the events are out of order. I'm mixing them up so it'd make sense with this particular story. Enjoy this chapter; let me know how it is! I'll try and update again soon!
Chapter 8
After a few months of getting used to Alfred's grilled cheese sandwiches and fancy salads, I started to see Bruce more often. I'd even met Rachel, who sometimes kept me company around the house while Bruce was at Wayne Enterprises working or out at night "working." Despite my mob history, Rachel didn't judge me. She and I automatically became friends, and she even accompanied Brody and I on the property when he needed to train. Afterwards, she threw him his new Frisbee.
We were getting lunch from Alfred after she got off the phone with Harvey, whom I didn't care for too much. That's okay though, because the feeling was mutual. He hates the mob, which means he loathes me.
Bruce entered the kitchen, cringing at the dog eating steak on the tile floor. He had some issue with rottweilers, although he was always nice to Brody. He just didn't like going near him too much.
"Rach, why don't you and Laurel go out for some new clothes? Dog food too." He lay his credit card out on the countertop.
We both stared at the credit card, happy smiles building on our faces.
"And," Bruce added, "Dresses. Wayne Enterprises will be throwing a bash for Mr. Dent's new role soon."
My smile disappeared. "A dress? Bruce, c'mon! Can't I wear fancy pants or something?"
He threw me a warning look and I shut it.
Returning home, Rachel and I gave our shopping bags to Alfred, who insisted taking them off our hands and to the sitting room. Bruce wanted to see everything, including the dress, which Rachel chose (the only thing I got a say in was the color.) I would be wearing a black floor-length silk gown with a braided halter and a back so low; it stopped right above my butt. Rachel chose a gorgeous dark green gown with ruffles that continued all the way down to her ankles, where it gathered at her feet.
Bruce said the ballroom was already being fixed up and the event would take place tomorrow night. With a pat on my shoulder, Rachel left to check on Harvey at the office while Bruce and I shifted through bags, hanging up random garments.
"You're sure I can stay this long, Bruce?" I asked, hesitant as to my time limit. "I mean, I know you don't like dogs and I've been here for months…"
He put a hand up, silencing my next sentence. "Laurel," he started, "You've kept Alfred company while I'm gone, stayed true to your word, and helped out around the property. You can stay here as long as you need to."
"Thanks," I stuttered.
A few moments of a comfortable sort of silence passed as we hung up clothes. I broke it with the question that'd been haunting me since I got here.
My hands quivering around the wire hanger, I asked, "Are you even gonna catch him Bruce?" I surprised myself with how young and scared I sounded.
To my surprise, he caught me in a tight embrace. "I'm trying, Laurel. I'm trying my best."
"Mkay," I mumbled against his suit jacket.
He made me feel a smidge better when he said, "Criminals aren't complicated, Laurel. I just need to figure out what he's after."
The party was a big hit. Harvey was there with Rachel, and while she came up to give me a big hug, he stayed back talking with a few politicians. He clung onto Rachel most of the night, especially after Bruce arrived. His elaborate entrances always amuse me, although Rachel looked a bit ticked off.
I stayed with Alfred and Bruce most of the evening, shying at all the unfamiliar faces. They tried engaging me in conversations with a few handsome young men, whom I was polite to, but glared at the two older men for their useless attempts for me to find someone. I mean, what normal man would take me for who I am, mobster family and all? Certainly not any of these rich fellows.
One of them had just finished complimenting me on my dress when I spotted Rachel with no Harvey by her side.
"Thank you," I nodded with a smile. "If you'll excuse me?" Hurrying to where she stood, I noticed she had a worried frown plastered on her face.
"What?" I tapped her arm.
"Bruce just dragged Harvey down the hallway." She bit her lip and shifted in her heels.
My stomach lurched. "I have a bad feeling," I said as I rubbed my belly.
Right at that moment, Rachel and I jerked as the elevator doors opened, revealing an old man I didn't know holding a grenade. Two masked goons stood behind him.
"We made it!" the Joker exclaimed as he pushed the old man to the ground and strode inside what should have been my safe haven.
"Where's Bruce?" I hissed. Rachel only tightened her grip on my shoulder.
The Joker stormed across the marble floor, grabbing at peoples' champagne flutes and downing them in front of the frightened guests. He asked around, lightly smacking people, "D'you know Harvey Dent? Know where he is?"
Rachel and I inched towards the edge of the crowd.
The Joker now had a man's face in his gloved hands. He bit the inside of his cheek and said, "You remind me of my father." His knife snapped out of its holder. "I hated my father."
"Okay, stop." Rachel released me and picked her way through the guests to face the clown.
The Joker dropped his victim and assessed Rachel, who was now in plain view. "Well hello beautiful. You must be Harvey's squeeze. And you are beautiful."
He circled her like a vulture, making even me feel violated. His gaze grazed the room, quickly falling on me and then ripping away to concentrate on Rachel again.
"Oh, you look nervous. Is it the scars?" He tried grabbing her face as she struggled. "Wanna know how I got 'em?" Finally getting a good grip as Rachel squirmed, he continued talking to her like a child. "Hey. Look at me."
"So I had a wife," he gently laughed. "Beautiful. Like you. Who tells me… I worry too much. Who tells me… I ought a smile more. Who gambles and gets in deep with sharks."
Rachel tried prying her head away, so he just held on tighter.
"One day, they carve her face. And we have no money for surgeries. She can't take it. I just wanna see her smile again. Hm? I just want her to know that I don't care about the scars. So, I stick a razor in my mouth and do this," he motions to the puckered scars at his mouth, "to myself."
Giving a bitter laugh and letting his knife get nearer to her face, he finished his story. "And y'know what? She can't stand the sight of me. She leaves. And NOW I see the funny side. Now I'm always smiling!"
Rachel got a good kick to his groin, earning freedom as he let her go and clutched his stomach. Laughing, he straightened. "A little fight in you. I like that," he licked his crimson lips.
Finally, the one voice I'd been waiting for half the night. Batman practically growled, "Then you're gonna love me."
The Joker and Batman started fighting, the two goons joining in. I bolted to the front of the crowd, even pushing a couple of people down. Reaching Rachel, I tried tugging her out of harm's way, but she stood there like a frightened animal. I followed her alarmed gaze to the white-faced monstrosity heading towards us. Batman closely followed, the two goons knocked out on the glossy floor.
The Joker roughly grabbed Rachel by the waist and staggered to the window.
Batman stiffened. "Drop the girl."
"Oh sure," the Joker giggled. "You just take off your little mask and tell us all who you really are. Hm?" Sending a bullet flying through the glass, he dangled Rachel above the faraway street.
"Let her go," he growled again.
"Very poor choice of words," the Joker sniggered. He dropped Rachel through the open window, sending her out onto the roof, scrabbling for a hold on something.
Batman took a running leap out the window after her, following her screams as the Joker jumped out of the way.
Open-mouthed, I stared after them; barely realizing what was happening until a pair of sturdy arms grabbed me around the hips and lifted me up onto their shoulder.
Kicking and screaming, I struggled against my attacker.
"Shush, shush, shush!" The Joker chuckled at my screams. "Stop with all the racket! Y'know, it uh took me quite a while to find you. I didn't even know you'd be here tonight. What a treat! Now we can continue your uh… half of the deal."
"Where are you taking me?" I shrieked. I wish I had Brody. He was sleeping up in my room. He wouldn't even be able to get to the ballroom because Alfred had closed my bedroom door.
"All in good time darling!" Hysterical giggles filled the now-empty ballroom as he adjusted me on his shoulder and entered the elevator.
I flailed my legs, kicking up the skirts of my dress as he put me down in front of him, still holding onto my arms. I was sure his tight grip would leave bruises.
"Stunning dress by the way. If I were a billionaire letting you into my home, I would be forcing you into one of those things every morning!"
I kicked him.
Snickering, he didn't even bend over. "Oh my, we're going to have some fun!"
When I didn't answer, he yelled into my face, "AREN'T we?"
I just glared at him.
The elevator opened, and I tried bolting to the right out the sliding doors. He grabbed me at the waist and used the rounded bottom of his knife against my head, landing a blow to my skull.
The last thing I saw was his smiling, maniacal face before everything went black.