Chapter Three

I'd Love You to Love Me

Violet's POV

There were two life lessons that I had learned the hard way. The first was that memories were more often cruel than not, and the second was that you couldn't trust anyone, no matter how much you wanted to. Well no, now that I think about it, I knew that I could trust Jack; at least I knew that I wanted to. I could trust a man that I had known for two weeks, but not members of my own family, people that had the same blood coursing through their veins as I had in mine…that was really sad, wasn't it? No, they couldn't be trusted, their loyalty was capricious, and turned in the direction that paid the highest price.

We were supposed to be different from the rest of them, Poppy and I, we were never going to treat our babies the way our parents treated us. We had held tight to one another all of our lives, Poppy watching over me, her kid sister, and I had foolishly believed that things would never change.

I was twenty years old, and Poppy was thirty when things had started to change. Our mom and dad were always in search of the bigger, better deal, leading my dad to set out to make the acquaintance of Anthony Rizzuto, a man who was well-known throughout our old neighborhood as a tough with a lot of money. He had everything that any man could want, and he also had the world at his fingertips...well, our corner of it, at least.

Dad had started doing "odd jobs" for Mr. Rizzuto, and moved up quickly through the ranks. He and mom had a swell time swanking themselves around with all the extra cash that dad was bringing in, and I'd been disgusted with both of them, and had foolishly assumed that Poppy shared my opinion of their lifestyle.

We had both dreamed of the day that we'd have babies of our own, and Poppy had started to obsess over when her chance would come, swearing that she could feel her clock ticking like mad. Unbeknownst to me at the time, she had started to resent me, to feel bitter about my youth, and that she began to hate me, to see me as still having the chance that was slipping through her fingers with each day that passed. Had she shared these feelings with me I would have done my best to remind her that she was only thirty, and that thirty was still very young, but she never gave me the chance. She had started talking about me behind my back, complaining to anyone who would listen, that I had ruined her chance for happiness because I was a cocktease, enticing every man who'd ever wanted her away with the promise of younger and more exciting pussy.

I remember the day that she had said that to me, how much she hated me, and how I was nothing but a tease, and for some reason the accusation of being a tease had hurt just as much as the "I hate you" had. Hell, I was a virgin...I still am...and I was largely ignored by men. A few had asked me out on dates but would be chased away by my family if they got too close to actually liking me. I suppose it had more to do with my tendency to be asked out by cops and other public servants that fueled my family's quest to drive them away, as opposed to them not wanting me to date; at least in as far as my mom and dad were concerned.

I wondered how they'd respond to my Jack, were they to ever visit, which I suppose would be possible, right around the time that Hell froze over. He was a man who had commanded a lot of power, had earned respect in the form of fear from powerful people. He had an impressive résumé, or rather, he had been in possession of one, but I knew they'd look at him and see the grease paint, the green rinse in his hair, the scars, and they'd declare that he was just a freak who had grabbed hold of the reigns for a short while. They would say that he was better off behind bars, and that the world was a better, and safer, place with him out of it. Of course, they'd finish up their speech with an observation that he was just the sort of man who would be attracted to a woman like me, and then they'd all have a good laugh...the bastards.

Anthony Rizzuto was the perfect man for their girl Poppy, the blonde and beautiful daughter, and it wasn't any concern of theirs that he was married and had children. They had pushed Poppy off on him, and Poppy had been dazzled by his wit, his charm, his looks...and his promise to knock her up and take care of both her and the baby, once he'd left his wife, of course.

Days had become weeks, weeks had turned into months, and two years passed by as my sister remained the piece on the side for Anthony Rizzuto, while his wife gave birth to their third lovely little girl. Poppy was in very bad shape by this time, with a bottle of Wild Turkey acting as her constant and most faithful companion. No baby was placed in her womb, and her demands for Tony's love and attention were neglected more and more until she became the punch line of all the jokes passed around the social clubs that Tony and his goons frequented.

Dad had demanded that my sister have a little dignity, and to let go gracefully. Both he and my mother were disappointed that Poppy had grown boring for Tony, that she hadn't been able to sway his marital intentions her way, which would have set them up for life. They had still regarded Poppy as being good enough to speak to, but that had changed when Tony showed up with his new acquisition, a brand-new model that at eighteen was fourteen years younger, and a hundred times more predatory than my sister had ever dared to be.

My parents considered it to be the biggest disappointment of their lives, my big sister's failure, well, second biggest after the fact that I had been born, and had immediately turned their backs on her, cutting her out of their lives completely. I had tried to fill the void in her life, had tried to be the security that she so desperately needed and wanted, but I hadn't been able to care for the deep wounds in her heart. She drank too much, she was always drunk, and then that horrible night had happened, the night that had landed me here, that had changed my life forever.

"Miss Violet," a strange voice beckoned me from the hall, an unfamiliar woman's face was pressed against the door of my cell. "Miss Violet, my name is Hattie Cooper, and Mr. Henry sent me here to speak with you."

Henry Hale was my attorney, a good man who had done everything in his power to see that I received a trial that was somewhat fair. I realized with a start that Hattie was the lady who cooked and cleaned for him, and I wondered how she had ever managed to make it in here, past all of the security.

"Hattie, how did you ever get in past King and his flunkies?" I asked, walking toward the door, my heart in my throat as I calculated the repercussions, if were we to be discovered.

"Don't you worry any Miss Violet," she answered, smiling slyly. "I got a job down in the kitchen as Hazel Cooper. Mr. Henry sent me in here undercover to give you a message."

It tickled me, her enjoyment of her role as the secret agent sent in with a top-secret message, but then I took note of the worry that came into her eyes, and I knew that the message wasn't a good one.

"What is it Hattie?" I asked anxiously. "Why have you and Henry gone to such a risk for me?"

"Mr. Henry heard from a reliable source that they are going to come after you tonight Miss Violet," she answered, her eyes filling with tears. "That Rizzuto snake made a deal with Mr. King and they're going to come after you and force themselves on you, both Mr. King and his cronies."

I felt an overwhelming urge to faint and vomit at the same time, but knew that now wasn't the time for me to fall apart, not if I wanted to survive and make it till morning with my life, with my dignity, and my virginity intact. The more I thought about it, what those bastards intended to do, the angrier I became, until the fear subsided a little.

"I've got to go now Miss Violet," Hattie's voice broke into my thoughts once more. "My shift is over and they'll get suspicious if they see me hanging around up here. Promise me that you'll be on your guard, and try to find something, anything, to defend yourself with."

I thanked her as she turned to leave, throwing one last frightened look over her shoulder, and my mind started racing. What could I use as a defense against a group of rapists? I wasn't in possession of anything that I could use as a weapon, and tears welled up in me as I realized the hopeless situation that I had been placed in.

King's voice rang out in the corridor, startling me to the point that I nearly screamed. I heard him open the door of Jack's cell, delivering him back from his arts and crafts activities, and he stepped over to my door for a moment, leering at me and then blowing me a kiss. I would have liked to had the opportunity to punch him, or spit in his face, but the glass and metal of the door hindered me, and I also didn't want to do anything that might make him suspicious as to my knowledge of his plans for me later that night, and so I made do with ignoring him.

I heard Jack shuffling around in his room, whistling cheerfully, and then he dropped to the hole between our rooms.

"Hey there, sweet thing," he greeted me warmly. "How's my dainty little girl this evening?"

I hesitated for just a moment, hating to involve him, knowing that I would more than likely be getting him in trouble, but then it dawned on me that I did have protection against King...I had my Jack.

I dropped down to the floor, and his smile disappeared as he saw the petrified look on my face. "What happened to you Violet?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm in trouble Jack," I answered, my voice trembling from the force of my fear. "I need your help."

Jack's POV

My head was spinning from the conflicting emotions racing through me as my Dainty filled me in on the dilemma that she found herself in, a little act of revenge on Rizzuto's part, to be carried out by King and his band of thugs. The primary emotion was rage, which was understandable, considering the fact that there was a plot being carried out by a group of guards to gang rape Violet. I was also filled with a sense of elation, which may seem odd to you, but before you judge me, please allow me to explain myself.

I had been doing my own fair share of plotting this past week, and everything had been put in place for my escape, and I had just been working up the nerve to ask my Dainty to accompany me, knowing that the odds that she would want to cast caution to the wind and take up with a mass murdering psychopath weren't very high in my favor. It probably made me seem loony...heh, heh...but I was almost relieved to have a life and death scenario occur which would serve the purpose of necessitating her to flee with me.

The look of shock that washed over her face when I picked the lock and strolled through the door of her cell like a man without a care in the world would have amused me at one time, but now it just hastened me to comfort her, to make her see that everything was going to be alright. I may have changed somewhat during this visit at Arkham, but an old habit like lock picking still proved to be a very valuable asset, and this had been the first opportunity that presented itself in a long time.

I explained to her that I had gotten a message through to a man who was working for me before lights out, who had been hired as a guard, and that he would be entering her cell tonight, with King and his flunkies, and that he would help me to incapacitate the would-be rapists and that was when I would detonate the charges that Wonko, my plant who was working as a guard, had placed around the asylum for me a couple of days ago. The explosion would provide us an opening through which we would escape, and there was a car waiting for us a half mile away to offer us transportation for a speedy getaway.

I waited anxiously for her response once I'd finished exhaustively detailing my plans to her. She seemed more than a little shocked by what I'd said, but she didn't appear to be angry, or disgusted, and my mood was bolstered slightly by the absence of obviously negative responses from her.

"Please come with me, Dainty," I whispered softly, stepping close to her and laying my hand against her back. "Say that you'll run away with me."

She still didn't answer me, which I suppose wasn't an entirely bad thing, since it meant that she wasn't saying no, although she wasn't saying yes either. I rubbed my hand against the small of her back, feeling the muscles that had tightened there, and she arched herself forward, moaning in a way that grabbed complete control of my manhood. I knew that her response was more than likely due to the fact that she needed a backrub, a gentle massaging to muscles that were being knotted by the tremendous stress that she was laboring under, but I allowed the sound to mean more to me than that.

I continued the massaging, alternating between using my knuckles and my fingertips, and was pleased to find that I had her purring from my touch, arching her body, a satisfied hum from the depths of her throat emanating outward until she resembled a kitty cat that was enjoying a good rubdown. I moved my hands slowly, crossing one over the other as I drew her up into my arms. I was afraid that maybe I was pushing things too quickly, but in the end she went willingly, maybe even eagerly, into my embrace.

It felt so good to hold her, and to be held in return, a sensation that I had never thought about very much in the past. Of course, there was the added benefit of feeling her breasts pressed tightly against my chest, and believe me when I say that it was a very...um, stirring...experience. The best part however, was the way her arms raised up to twine around my neck, her small hands delving into my hair. I nearly whimpered from the comfort that she was bringing to me, this newfound source of peace that she had inspired in me since we had met.

"Won't you come along with me sweet girl?" I whispered in her ear, holding her as tightly as I dared. "I promise that I'll keep you safe, and I swear that I'll make you happy."

I heard her breath catch in her throat, and I worried for a moment that I had pushed her too far. The bad thing was that I couldn't stop myself, not now that I had come this far. "I know that you might not feel the way that I do, Dainty," I murmured, pulling away from her warmth very reluctantly. "But I want you to feel this right here," I continued, grabbing her hand and placing it against my chest. "That thump, thump, thumping feeling there...that belongs to you, and as long as it's beating, as long as I'm breathing, it belongs to you and only you."

She raised her face up to look at me, and I saw that there were tears brimming in her eyes, and my heart fell, thinking that I'd just made a complete fool of myself. She was probably crying because it was painful for her brain to come up with a suitable rejection, and I braced myself for the worst, hoping that I wouldn't further my humiliation by sobbing when she told me to get lost.

But then she smiled that sweet bashful smile that I felt belonged especially to me, because I'd never seen her smile that way at anyone else. She reached down and took hold of my hand, raising it to place over her heart, while I chanted an internal mantra of "don't grope her boobs...don't grope her boobs" to myself. This was too special a moment to ruin by feeling her up.

"Mine's thumping pretty hard as well," she whispered, bending her head to kiss the back of my hand. "If you are wondering who it is that it beats for, maybe you should have a better look around this room."

I wanted to look at her some more, she looked so damn pretty at that moment, but I did as she asked, wondering what it was that I could have missed. Then I saw the origami that I had made for her, the swan and the flower, and I saw the tacky macaroni necklace, painted purple and adorned with gold glitter, that she had laid across the doily on her dresser, when most others would have either thrown it away, or at the very least, hidden it from sight.

The wrapper from every piece of Super Bubble that I had ever given her was stored in a neat pile, and propped on the table beside her bed was a picture of me, something she must have drawn herself. I was standing in the sunlight, my head tilted back, with my eyes closed. She had captured the green rinse in my hair, the startling white, black and red of my war paint, and she had captured each of my scars, all shockingly hideous to behold, but she had managed to make my face look beautiful, for lack of a better word, and I knew that she had to really care for me to see that sort of splendor in my face.

"I have to say that it seems as though you've developed a bit of an obsession where I'm concerned, my Dainty," I murmured, my emotions swelling up and ruining my intention of sounding slightly sarcastic.

"That's true," she whispered, kissing the back of my hand once more. "And if you still want me to go with you, then my answer is most definitely yes."

I could have whooped with joy, she was going to leave with me...she wanted to leave with me. I stifled my urge to shout, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that I was out of my cell, having picked the lock, and that I was now in her cell, another lock that had been picked, and that I was lying in wait for that King bastard to appear with his band of raping thugs. It had been a while since I had been given the opportunity to carry out violence against someone, and no one deserved a good lesson in manners more than Mr. King.

"Of course I still want you to go silly," I told her, pulling her by her hand so that we could crouch down beside her bed. "It's time for us to hide right now. King will be along in another ten or fifteen minutes, and after he's been dealt with we'll blow this loony Popsicle stand."

She giggled at my words, pressing herself close to me while we hid. I held her near and prepared myself for the approaching fight, reminding myself again and again to keep it as clean as possible, having no desire to scare Violet with my sadistic side.

Violet's POV

Jack had relocked the door when he came in, as he had locked his own, knowing that King would check to make sure that there wouldn't be any loose ends. Through the dim light that filtered into my cell from the moon I could see that the door was being unlocked, and then it swung open silently. Based on the shadows that had entered my room, King had brought three other guards with him, all with the purpose of dishonoring me, and I thanked God that I had Jack with me. One of the guards was Wonko, someone who was on our side, but that left a total of three bruisers that would need seeing to.

They walked toward my bunk, where I was supposed to be sleeping, missing the shadowy form of Jack as he circled around behind them. A beam of light traveled over my empty bed before finding me crouched on the floor, and they laughed as they looked at me, and I would imagine that I probably resembled a cottontail bunny facing down a snarling pack of hungry coyotes.

"What are you doing on the floor, you loony bitch?" King appeared to be drunk, weaving back and forth, and being held upright by his buddies, well two of them at least. "Get on that damn bed and spread your legs for me, whore. I got a gift from Mr. Rizzuto to deliver to you."

I took a deep fortifying breath, pushing myself up to my feet. "I have a better idea Mr. King," I replied. "Why don't you and your buddies go suck each other off and leave me alone? I'm kind of tired right now and don't have the time, the patience, or the gag suppressant necessary to accept you raping me."

"You mouthy little slut," he hissed, steadying his hand, raising it and bringing it down hard on my cheek, causing my head to snap backward painfully. "Just for that I'm going to hand you a beating after I'm done fucking you. Collect a little interest on that debt you owe Anthony Rizzuto."

In spite of the fact that Jack, as well as Wonko, were there to deal with King and his buddies, I couldn't help but feel fear take hold of me as I watched the bastard move closer to me, his hand going to his belt buckle, unfastening it, smiling malevolently.

"Ah ta ta...back up there your highness or I'll raise your voice an octave or two."

Nothing in my life had ever sounded as sweet as Jack's voice, emerging from the darkness in the corner of my room, and the look on King's face was absolutely priceless as he put two and two together, realizing that the odds had just turned a good deal in my favor.

He was still stupid enough to be confident in the superiority of numbers however, and he called for his men, Leon, Otis, and Willard, to advance. His men didn't answer, the only sound in the room was an electric crackling, and King turned to see Leon and Otis writhing in pain on the floor, the pegs from Taser guns embedded deeply in the flesh of their backs. Willard was standing over them, a Taser in each hand, and I laughed as King lost control of his bladder, acrid urine spilling forth to dampen the legs of his trousers.

Jack walked towards the dethroned King of Arkham, and reached into his pocket, emerging with a knife. The blade snapped open, glinting in the sparse light of the moon, and Jack raised his knife to run the blade almost lovingly over King's face.

"Oh Mr. King," he sighed. "There's nothing as sad as when a kingdom falls. I should know, after all I was once graced with a royal title of my own."

He traced along King's eyes and then his lips with the tip of the knife, giggling as the guard whimpered with fear. "In the past I would have just killed you...performed a public service you could say...by putting a rabid dog out of its misery. But I'm a changed man now, and I just have one thing that I need to do."

He placed his hand on King's shoulders, smiling at the guard's terror, and with a resounding crack brought his kneecap up into the squishy softness of King's balls, causing the man to wail with agony as he dropped to the floor of the cell. Then Wonko pulled something that resembled a remote out of his pocket and pushed the red button.

The wall across from our cell shattered and fell, revealing a crack that went through both the inner and the outer wall, which was housed next to a low walled enclosure, and with a word of thanks to Wonko, Jack grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the cell, toward freedom. I stopped, turning back to grab the flower that he had made for me, and the portrait that I had drawn of him before grabbing his hand once more, making a run for it as the sirens wailed and the search lights brightened. I should have been reluctant, I should have been terrified, but I felt exhilarated...I felt free…for the first time in my entire life.