Chapter Twelve

Taking a Stand

Jack's POV

I didn't like feeling that cold chill of dread that was dancing up and down my spine; fear never did anything positive for me, so let's just say that it made me more than a little angry to see a strange car parked so close to our home. The knowledge that someone was possibly inside with my Dainty and the thought that she could be in danger scared me half to death, and brought old feelings back to life, the sort that almost always resulted in a certain maniacal clown making an unwanted appearance.

I hated shopping, hated every moment spent amongst people who were sighted well enough to see that I was horribly scarred, but were equally just as blind, because they lacked the intelligence to match up my scars with who I was, or at least, who I had been. Some were polite enough to look at me briefly and then look away, but I couldn't even begin to tell you how many would stare, and even worse were the ones who would stare and then feel as though it was their God-given right and duty to make a comment, usually amongst their equally obnoxious friends, tittering and mocking as you walked past them. I really wished that I wasn't concerned with whether or not my actions would upset Violet at times, because then I could remind them, in the most painful way possible, that an armed society is a polite society.

The one bright spot of my afternoon away from my sweet baby girl was my visit to the charming lady that had supplied me with flowers for my Violet once before. Her name was Flora, appropriate given her chosen profession, and she had actually remembered me, and not in that "Oh, yeah...the guy with the freaky scars" way. I had her construct a blushing crimson arrangement, both chrysanthemums and roses, and had set off for home, eager for a bit of red-hot loving with my red-hot momma.

That, of course, was before I had turned onto our street and had immediately homed in on the car that was parked near to our home, but still remained a ways back, so that someone inside the house wouldn't see it if they were to look out of the window. Fear clenched in my chest, squeezing my heart and shortening my breath as I thought of Dainty and Tootsie all alone in the house with a deranged lunatic...well, another deranged lunatic besides yours truly, given the fact that they spent a good amount of their time with me in the house.

I left all of the groceries in the car, except for the flowers...I reasoned that they would wither in the car and I could also use the vase to inflict blunt force trauma if necessary...and I cautiously turned the knob that offered entrance into our home, taking care to keep my footsteps light in an effort to keep my arrival quiet, just in case Dainty was in dire circumstances, which would necessitate me getting the drop on the son of a bitch who was hurting her.

My attempts to enter in a clandestine manner were destroyed, however, with the barking and clickety-click of doggie nails scratching against the hardwood floor as Tootsie barreled out to meet me in the foyer. She jumped up against me, rubbing her nose against my belly in greeting, and then proceeded to take the cuff of my shirt into her mouth and drag me to the living room, her quick pace nearly causing me to fall several times while she shot looks of utter disgust up at me from the corner of her eye. I suppose she was thinking that I ought to be able to keep pace with her much easier than I was, and she was obviously concerned that I hurry to Violet and protect her from whatever source of villainy had entered into our home.

I was relieved to see that Dainty was fine, with no obvious sign of injury, but it was evident to me that she was also very angry, and though I thoroughly enjoyed the sparks of fury that were firing forth from her eyes, I was also very glad that her wrath wasn't directed toward me. She was sitting very stiffly on the couch, staring daggers across the room at the unwelcome visitor who on closer inspection was recognizable to me as her older sister, Poppy.

The sniveling, conniving bitch that shared the responsibility for my sweet baby girl's incarceration was in our home, in our living room. There weren't words adequate enough for the outrage that filled me, which threatened to propel me into violent action against the cow that sat in our living room as though she had some sort of right to do so. It was all that I could do, to stand still and make do with glaring at her until my beloved gave me her consent to do bodily harm to her sister, but this was her show, not mine, which meant that I didn't make the rules…no matter how much I might have wished to do so.

Dainty's eyes brightened with happiness somewhat when she turned to look at me and at the large arrangement of flowers that I held in my hands. I felt a little goofy, standing there with my vase full of posies, wanting more than anything to launch a full aggressive attack against the traitorous whore that had hurt my Dainty, but it did my heart good to see that brief flash of happiness light up her face. What made it even better was to know that she was just as happy to see me as she was to see the flowers, maybe even more so.

"Oh Jack, they're absolutely beautiful," she gushed, hurrying over to where I was standing and taking the blossoms eagerly from my hands. She placed them on the coffee table and admired them for a moment before returning to where I stood, rising onto her tiptoes and sliding her arms around my neck. I lost myself in her lips, in the gentle brushing of her tongue, in the soft warmth of her body, just as I always did when she kissed me, and a few moments passed before I remembered that we had an audience, an unwelcome one at that.

The blonde was watching us with a definite look of disgust on her face, but her attempt at complete revulsion was marred by the slight hint of envy that was evident amongst the repugnance. I was tempted for just a moment to bend my Dainty over the arm of the sofa to give her sister a real good show of things, but that would be an insult to Violet, and to me as well, to display our love for one another in such a way, as a show for her cow of a sister, so I kept my attentions limited to the kiss…for the time being, at least.

"Let me introduce you to our guest sweetie," Violet said, the emphasis placed on the word 'guest' the way one might say "cockroach". "This is my sister Poppy, you know, the one who testified against me, sending me to Arkham, to rot forever in that hellhole, while she made a pathetic attempt to hold onto a man who is repulsed by the idea that she still pines after him, in spite of everything that he did to her…you remember her, don't you, my love?"

I nodded, but didn't say anything to the woman, because I didn't quite trust myself to keep control of myself and resist the urge to strangle her. I knew all about her crimes against her sister, and I wanted her to pay, to cry, to beg, to bleed, but at the same time I was stricken by the irony that I never would have had my Dainty if her sister hadn't betrayed her, which meant that I owed her my thanks even as I longed to remove her spleen with the dullest, rustiest blade that I owned…talk about being pulled in two different directions.

"Now, Violet," she answered in a tone of voice that was falsely sweet and infuriatingly patronizing. "I didn't send you to Arkham. That was the judge's decision."

Who would have thought that someone who had enormous odds against their making it out of alive would have the audacity to be so bold with their denigration of the person that they had wronged? Most people had some concern for their life, even if it wasn't as pronounced as it ought to have been, but it would seem that Poppy had no regard for her life at all.

Dainty smiled at that moment, a smile unlike any I had ever seen on her face before, and I felt a cold trickle of fear take hold of me once more, only this time it made its way across my balls, as opposed to up and down my spine, and I was very relieved that the smile was directed at the blonde cow as opposed to being aimed at me.

"No, you didn't make the declaration for Arkham," Violet murmured, a look of coldness seeping into her eyes. "That was the choice of people more important than you." Her smile grew along with her sister's outrage, and I had to admit that as frightening as this new Dainty was, she was incredibly sexy as well. "Really, I should thank them for sending me there," Violet continued, taking both me and the whore by surprise. "If I hadn't been sent to that hellhole I never would have met my Jack, and that would have been a heartbreaking loss indeed, in hindsight."

There had been many instances since we had first met that I had felt important, that I had known that I meant a lot to her, but this was the first time I realized just how much she loved me, and how much we belonged together, how we were meant for each other. It was heartening in ways that I couldn't begin to explain, the knowledge of the depth of her bond to me, but I also knew that I really didn't deserve her, and that had to be my biggest fear, the thought that she might be taken away from me, or, even worse, that she realized that I was a maniac, a lunatic who was hardly the man of her dreams.

"I'm sure that you've made a match that would make you the envy of every woman in Gotham," her sister sneered. "At least, you would be to all of the crazy, desperate and hopeless ones."

Violet raised her eyebrows and started walking towards her sister, and I have to admit that I was anticipating the fur to fly and the claws to draw blood after that little zinger, but my Dainty struck back in the most effective way, the way in which she had her sister trumped, checked and mated...using her verbal wit as her pointed rapier of choice.

"Well Poppy, I suppose that puts you in the lead of those who covet what I have," she purred, that scary smile growing almost sincere in appearance. "Since I'd have to say that you qualify as the craziest, most desperate, and pitifully hopeless cow to be found in all of Gotham."

That certainly livened the 'hopeless cow' up a good deal, and I felt compelled to intercede as I saw her move in a threatening manner towards my Dainty, but what happened next showed me that Violet didn't really require my assistance in dealing with her sister. Poppy was counting on the fact that she had a good five inches and fifteen pounds on Violet to add to her advantage in a fight, but what she hadn't taken into account, and what I hadn't known existed, was that a true killer and fighter instinct was buried deep inside my sweet baby girl, which meant that she could easily hold her own.

Poppy swung her fist, and had it made actual contact it would have been a good right hook, but Violet sidestepped the intended blow quite easily, and using her sister's forward momentum against her, she swept her feet against the back of Poppy's and knocked her down on her rather flat ass. She didn't have the chance to hardly take a breath before baby sister was upon her, both knees on Poppy's arms, holding her down, while she brandished a knife that I recognized as one of my own, caressing the heaving throat of the woman beneath her hold.

It's a horrible thing to admit, but I had a rock hard erection at that moment, at the sight of this beautiful and masterful animalistic side that had rested within my Dainty all this time, making me think that perhaps I had misnamed her. She was always beautiful, although the beauty changed from time to time, with each mood that passed through her, and this was a new awesome magnificence to behold, a vision that was virgin and stimulating to me.

"You know what I can do with this, sister dear," she whispered, and I saw a genuine look of fear take hold of Poppy. "You have two choices available to you at this time. One, you can pick yourself up off of this floor and escort yourself out of this house or two, you can be escorted, in whatever fashion the usher deems necessary, but either way, you will never darken my doorway again, or this blade will do more than just hint at violence, catch my drift?"

Poppy scrambled to her feet, dark hatred for my Dainty ugly on her face. "I was trying to give you a chance to get out alive, you stupid little bitch," she screamed, tears of humiliation and anger welling up in her eyes. "He's coming for you, for both of you, and I was just trying to help you."

Violet started towards her once more, knife held at the ready, and her sister finally saw the reality that her time had run out, and that if she wished to survive, she would run and stop provoking her little sister any further.

We followed her up the hall to the front door, and she grasped the doorknob, opening the door but then stopping, turning to look at Violet once more. "You think you've found yourself a good man baby sister, but there's no such thing." She turned towards me, her lip curling up in a hateful sneer. "Ask your lover where he's been going on those days that he leaves you, and what he's been doing, and then tell me whether or not you think he's such a good catch after all."

My heart sank as the door slammed closed behind her, and I waited for my Dainty to tear into me, to grill me on where I'd gone and what I'd done, but instead she walked to the window beside the front door, watching as Poppy left, and once the coast was clear she took hold of my hand, pulling me outside.

"Let me give you a hand with those groceries," she said, her manner as calm as it ever was, as though everything was rosy, with no dark clouds in sight, but in my heart I knew better.

Violet's POV

I couldn't push him to talk about it, no matter how much I wanted to know, how much I needed to know. To question him would be to say that I was buying in to Poppy's bullshit, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. There was no denying that I was curious about where it was that he spent his time away with me, and who it was that captured his attention in those hours away, but I couldn't ask him about it. I had to trust that he would tell me himself, once the time was right.

My sister had pulled some ballsy moves in the past, testifying against me after I'd tried to protect her had to be number one, but today's little surprise visit would definitely rank in the top five. The only good thing that had come out of it was that I had stood up for myself, I hadn't backed down and played the submissive role as I'd always done in the past. My time with Jack had bolstered my self-confidence, had taught me that I was a woman who was strong, and that I was a woman who was loved. I wasn't alone in the world any longer, not as long as he was with me.

I made a big pan of lasagna with a side of my homemade garlic rolls for dinner, blushing as he heaped praise on my cooking. You'd think that I'd be used to it by now, the nonstop compliments, but no, I wasn't yet, and I wasn't growing tired of them either. I was a good cook, I had to agree, even if it did make me sound bigheaded, but I may as well have served up wet newspaper with a side of slimy cardboard as appealing as the food was to me that night. I made do with pushing it around my plate, picking the cheese off of the top of the lasagna, until a reasonable amount of time had passed by and I escaped from the dining room to wash the dishes.

I gathered and scraped the plates, plunging them into hot, soapy water and Jack joined me, towel in hand, and ready to dry each dish, as was our nightly ritual. Usually there was playfulness between us, water splashed back and forth, Jack smacking my fanny with the towel, but none of our usual jovialness existed, the mood in the kitchen was somber, almost funereal.

We washed and dried in silence for a while, and then Jack had started irritating me, elbowing me in the side and when I'd ask what he wanted he'd act like I was imagining things, like he hadn't touched me at all. I started ignoring him, as best I could, but Jack hated it when I ignored him and after a few failed attempts to get my attention by nudging my side he decided that the best route to go was to grab a glass that he'd just dried, fill it with rinse water and dunk it over my head.

I sputtered for a few moments, astounded that he had just dumped water over my head, and not clean water either, but friggin' rinse water that had already had all of the plates, glasses, and silverware run through it. I had always taken Jack for an intelligent man, but something told me that I should rethink that evaluation, because a smart man wouldn't continue to stand next to me, or any other woman that he'd done something so disgusting to, laughing his fool head off like he'd just done something really clever. No, a bright man would have made a run for it out of the kitchen by now, and if he were really wise he would have left the house all together.

I parted the sodden curtains of my hair, my eyes undeniably conveying my rage to Jack in a way that would have left no doubt in his mind about the fact that I was just about to wreak absolute havoc on him. He looked at me appraisingly for a moment and then started whooping with laughter once more and by that time I'd had all that I could take, and with a shrill battle cry I jumped on him, knocking us both down to the slippery, soapy floor.

I put up a pretty good fight for about two seconds and then the battle turned in his favor as he flipped me over onto my back. He laughed for a few moments, clearly enjoying his status as the victor, but then his eyes strayed down to my chest and the laughter died on his lips, and his eyes heated as they roamed up and down, back and forth across my chest, where the drenched material of my t-shirt clung to my braless breasts, my nipples blossoming as I felt him harden against me.

"Are you still mad at me?" he whispered, his eyes scared as they fastened on my face, his apprehension taking momentary control over his arousal. I was mad at him about the water, and I was mad at him for not being upfront with me about everything, but I couldn't stay that way for very long, looking at the fear that was in his eyes. "Not too mad, sweetie," I murmured, sliding my hands around behind his neck, pulling him down to where I could kiss him.

His tongue was warm, the feel of it welcome within my mouth, shyly exploring me, its movements growing bolder as his hands sought out my breasts, easing the ache that had settled down into my nipples. The water on the floor was growing cold and I ached all up and down my legs and my butt was growing seriously uncomfortable as well. Jack finally caught on to the fact that I wasn't just writhing around beneath him because I was turned-on and he rose gingerly to his feet, his pants swelled out quite impressively at the crotch. He started to lead me out of the kitchen but then he stopped to stare at the table that was in our little breakfast nook, and he looked to me, back to the table, then once more at me, and just as I was realizing his intentions he swept me up into his arms and placed me gently upon the table.

He removed my sodden pants and t-shirt, bending to take one of my nipples in his mouth. My hands delved into his hair and I moved him back and forth from one nipple to the other, crying out as he sucked each one, hard, into his mouth.

He pulled away from me suddenly and stared at me, his chest heaving as he struggled to slow his breathing. "I need to tell you where I've gone and what I've done," he said, one hand lowering to clasp with mine. "I shouldn't make love to you while all of these doubts are between us."

Damn Jack, he had just about the worst timing of anyone I'd ever known. I was so worked up by this point that I could have cared less what he'd done while he was away. He could have been dressing up as Shirley Temple and having a red-hot affair with the long-lost love child of Adolph Hitler for all I cared at that moment. "Tell me later, sweetie," I gasped, reaching down to cup him through his trousers, making my attempt to convince him much easier.

His eyes closed as I caressed him, his breathing growing faster once more until he growled deep down in his throat and began to tear his clothes off as quickly as he could, leaving me clothed in a tiny pair of panties and him in nothing at all. Before he dropped his pants to the floor he grabbed two things from the pockets, one was a condom, and the other was the knife that I'd used earlier that day to threaten my sister.

"When we get around to the part where I tell you my secrets," he said, flipping open the blade of the knife and cutting through the tiny strings that connected the front to the back of my panties. "You're going to have to tell me exactly what it was that you did to Rizzuto, because I have a feeling that I haven't heard the whole story."

He started rubbing my clitoris with a roughened fingertip, making me soar higher and higher, and I would have gladly spilled any secrets that I had at that moment, just as long as he promised that he wouldn't stop. My hands grasped the side of the table, my hips undulating in that rhythm that was as old as time itself, and it wasn't long before I shattered beneath his touch, crying out as the sharp bliss of release took hold of me.

I had been given some reprieve at that moment, but it wasn't enough. I still felt empty inside, and needed to feel him plunging within me. I didn't want any more foreplay, I didn't want his finger, I wanted his cock, and I wanted it inside of me at that moment.

"Please Jack," I whimpered, reaching back behind him to grasp his backside. "Please now...God, I need you...I love you...Please."

His eyes darkened and a thrill of desire coursed through me, causing me to grow even wetter, which I wouldn't have thought possible. He tore the wrapper from the condom, his movements shaky as he pulled it on and then he was right where I wanted him to be, filling me and tumbling me over the precipice once more, riding me hard and fast as I screamed and writhed beneath him.

I didn't care at that time if the neighbors heard or if we broke the table; nothing mattered except for him and me. He pulled my legs up, resting them briefly on his shoulders before placing a hand behind each knee, spreading me as far as I would go as he took me very thoroughly.

"Say that you're mine," he growled, his rhythm growing more frantic as he neared his moment. "Promise that you'll never leave me."

I gasped that I was his, only his and that I would never leave him, and moments before he found his release I rediscovered my own and dimly I was aware of the table breaking beneath us moments before Jack lifted me from its crumbling top and we stayed that way, him holding me, still buried deep inside of me, both of us laughing through the post-orgasm shudders and cries.

Neither of us took notice of the face watching us, the little mind wondering at the bizarre customs of humans, speculating as to whether or not she'd ever grow used to their quirks.