Chapter Five
The days that followed my little emotional episode were spent in unparalleled bliss, giving me a glimpse of J that I never even knew existed. He was crazy, sure, but that was just one facet to his extraordinarily complex personality.
As promised, he had all of Harley's things packed into that armored ice cream truck, and we drove it out into a field in the middle of nowhere.
"Go ahead," He told me. "Douse the whole thing with gasoline."
And so, I did, enjoying the strong smell of gas as it burnt the insides of my nostrils. I danced around the pile of her shit until the entire canister was empty. It was J, however, who lit the match. I watched him as his eyes glazed over, the match he pinched tightly between his two fingers was burning down quickly.
"Harls," He mumbled, "we had a good run. Can't say I never missed ya, but I can say that I don't anymore."
He drew his eyebrows down, his face twisting into a wide, evil smile as he flicked the match and the flames exploded outward, engulfing the whole pile in seconds. He watched for a moment, transfixed, more than likely saying his last mental goodbye, before he turned to me and yanked me into his arms, covering my mouth with his. The kiss was fiery, and full of promise. It wasn't long before he had me laid out in the back of the ice cream truck, fucking me within an inch of my life as the flames licked the sky.
When we were finished, the flames had died down to smoldering embers and I could barely stand to walk on my own, he drove us back into Gotham to meet with his tailor. I had to laugh at the fact that he even had one to begin with.
"Doll face, what's the point of being evil if you don't have any style?" He said when I shared what was so amusing to me. The tailor took my measurements and I realized then that while the entire city of Gotham feared the Joker, they weren't above being bought. Everyone had a price, it didn't matter if you were the scum of the earth to them, money talked. J knew that better than anyone, he built his whole criminal career on capitalizing off that very notion.
Once J had a copy of my measurements we met with his personal stylist, drawing an even bigger laugh out of me than his tailor had. The man did always dress sharp, but who knew this was how he did it? It was all so comical to me, seeing this side of him.
"All that laughing is gonna make me take you over my knee and have my belt kiss your skin, Madeline." He said.
He and his personal stylist discussed their plans for me, and I wasn't disappointed with the conversation.
"I want her to look...devilishly tempting. She has a sexy, sleek back so we need pieces to highlight that, and her legs are about a mile long so I expect some short dresses as well." The stylist nodded, scribbling furiously in a notebook as J spoke.
"What about her chest?" She spoke, pausing to look at him. J snarled.
"Absolutely not. I'm already going to have a hard enough time with her in something short or backless, the last thing I want is someone ogling her tits, too! It makes my trigger finger itch just thinking about it!" J wrapped his arm around my shoulders as the woman jotted down her final few notes. She turned to me before she was finished.
"Sweetheart, what size shoe do you wear? And do you have any preference in heel height?" She asked. I pondered that for a moment before I answered.
"I wear an eight," I said, "and nah, just make sure you get me a pair of back combat boots." J scoffed beside me.
"Scratch that, Tiffany. She's not wearing any boyish boots around me. I want her in nothing but the finest clothes and the highest heels." I rolled my eyes, I was getting my damn boots. I looked up at him, grabbing his jaw and tilting his chin down to look at me.
"Daddy, I need some boots. I promise I'll look sexy in them, you just gotta trust me." I said, giving him my best puppy dog eyes and my sweetest smiled. "Please?" I added.
He groaned, removing my hand from his chin and turned his attention back to Tiffany.
"She gets one pair of boots." He said, and Tiffany nodded, adding her final notes before J palmed her several thick stacks of hundreds. "Keep what's left over for yourself, and remember, if I'm not happy with her look then you won't be too happy either…in fact, you'll probably be dead." With that, Tiffany snatched the money and practically ran out of the room, J laughing behind her as she went.
A few days after that she arrived at our apartment with six clothing racks, fifteen boxes of shoes, and two giant Louis Vuitton suitcases full of everything from jeans to lingerie. J combed meticulously through the racks, apparently satisfied with Tiffany's choices for me, before he had her unpack everything in our bedroom. At least now I had my own things at his place, which made it feel like home to me. No more Harley Quinn anything, anywhere. He even bought me my own training equipment and outfits, trashing the entire cabinet of her things thereafter.
So, like I said, the days that followed our lover's spat had been complete paradise. I even cooked him breakfast a few times in the wee hours of the morning after one of our salacious romps in the sack. And dammit, the man could fuck. Every quality I'd ever wanted in a partner, he possessed. He was dangerously smart, crafty, and sly. He had a short fuse, and an even shorter temper, but when he was good, God, was he good. He was a powerful man, almost regal. His men respected and feared him, and he ruled with an iron fist. Domineering, ruthless, and twisted – but the more time I spent with him the more I understood him. I guess I'm just as crazy as he is, I've just never felt the need to expose that part of me to the world. He wore his like a badge of honor on his sleeve, and I loved that about him. He never apologized for who he was, and if you didn't get it he make you see.
"Pumpkin," He called. I was in the bathroom, braiding my hair back and out of my face.
"Yes, sir?" I replied. He loved when I was subservient, it stroked his ego, and I was all about keeping my King happy.
"Oh," He purred, walking up behind me with his hands folded behind his back. "You look good enough to eat."
"I wouldn't mind that right about now," I said casually, smirking up at him through the mirror. He purred again and grinned at me.
"As much as I would love to lick you from your smart mouth all the way down to the apex of your thighs, I have a meeting with Tommy Ceglio." I pouted. He had been taking several meetings with the Italian mafia throughout the week, apparently working on some big scheme to rob a bunch of banks throughout the heart of Gotham's downtown district. "But, I have something for you, my pet."
"A gift? For me?" I said, turning around in the chair of my vanity to look up at him.
"You are so…sexy when you look up at me like that." He said, bringing his tongue out to lick his lips. I started throbbing between my legs. He always knew just what to say to get me going. We never broke eye contact as he brought one of his hands around from behind his back. He was holding a long rectangular box with a gold bone clasp on the front. I took it from his hands, letting my fingertips brush his, and was satisfied to see his eyelids drop down, hooding his eyes with desire.
Carefully I popped the clasp and opened the box. Inside was a set of twelve beautiful, customized throwing knives, and a black leather wrap-around thigh holster. The handle of each knife had his signature Joker head carved into it with an "M" stamped on the jester's hat, and the blades were a beautiful chrome amethyst color. We spent many hours in the training room since he'd first seen me in there. He loved to watch me practice, and was impressed with my skills and accuracy with knives. So much so that he had volunteered to stand in front of the target while I threw knives at him blindfolded. I never missed.
"Baby!" I exclaimed, running my fingers over the knives before picking one up and testing its weight in my hand. "Titanium?" I asked. He nodded. They were perfect.
I set the box aside and jumped up from the vanity chair, throwing my arms around him in a tackle-hug. He stumbled backwards, his eyes wide with shock, but he caught me, steadying himself and gripping my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I started covering his face with kisses, giggling the whole time.
"You like your new toys, doll face?" He said, shaking off my kisses and setting me back down on the ground.
"I love them!" I squealed with excitement. "I can't wait to use them either. Does this mean I get to come along for the robberies?" I asked, tilting my head to the side while looking up at him. He was 6'5" and even when I wore heels my 5'7" inch frame still had to crane my neck to make eye contact with him.
His face contorted into a frown. "Fuck no," He snarled, shoving me away from him.
"What do you mean no? J, I can do this! You know I can." I wasn't going to back down. The idea of him leaving our place and never coming back terrified me. I wanted to be right there with him, ride or die. He goes down and I go down with him, but he had refused from the moment I started asking him when he told me his plans.
"You're not coming, Madeline, and I don't want to hear any more about it. Do you understand?" I balled my fists at my sides, glaring up at him. The irritation rolling off of each of us filled the room with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. But, I had an idea, one he wasn't going to like, one that I'd probably be punished for so I backed down first, rearranging my features into a smile.
"Whatever you say, sir." I said, sticky sugary sweetness dripping from every word. He didn't look convinced.
"I mean it, Maddie. You know what happens when you disobey me." I had the bruises on my ass to prove it, but I kept smiling up at him.
"Uh huh, I know." I puckered my lips at him, rocking up onto my tip toes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, leaning down to give me a chaste peck.
"What am I going to do with you...?" He mumbled, turning to leave the bathroom.
"What would you do without me?" I called after him, smiling smugly before heading to my closet to get dressed.
I fingered through all the pieces hanging in my closet until I found his favorite dress. It was a vintage Chanel – emerald green silk, backless, mid-length and tight, with an elegant gathering of fabric at the chest that dipped ever so slightly. He was never very good at saying no to me when I had this on. I slipped into my royal purple suede Louboutin's, put my choker on, and some stunning 2 carat diamond studs. I ran my hands down the front of my dress, examining my appearance in the floor length mirror I had installed in between my shoe racks in the closet.
I had already braided my hair down my back so I pulled a few curls out to frame my face and tugged at the plaits of the braid to loosen them, making my hair look like an intentional but sexy mess. Back in the bathroom I meticulously combed my mascara brush through my lashes until they were thick and dark, swiped on some cherry red lipstick, and spritzed some of my Donna Karan perfume.
Perfect. I smiled knowingly at myself before I headed out of the apartment and down the elevator to the floor where J always held his meetings. There were two of his henchman standing on the other side as the elevators doors slid open, both of their mouths sagged open when they say me.
"Miss Madeline," One, I believe his name was Simmons, stuttered. They both straightened their posture, and I noticed they were trying their very best not to look at me. I laughed.
"Relax, boys. I'm not gonna snitch on ya." I said, reaching up to drag one finger down Simmons' chest. "Is he in there?" I said, motioning to the giant black door at the end of the hallway.
"Yes ma'am, but he was insistent that no one interrupt this meeting." The other goon, Wallis, said, looking nervously between me and Simmons.
"Oh, come on, fellas. I'm only gonna pop in for a second. I need to know where he wants me to make our reservations for date night tonight!" I bat my heavy eyelashes up at each of them. Simmons took half a step sideways, giving me enough room to pass which made me blow a kiss in his direction.
"Thanks, sugar. I'll make sure J doesn't give you too much shit for this. Besides, if you wouldn't have let me by I would have figured out a way around you anyways." I said, dropping a seductive wink before making my way down the hall to the door of the conference room, my heels clicking loudly as I went. I paused with my hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath. He was going to be so pissed that I'm interrupting but I had a point to prove.
I pushed the door open and walked into the room, greeted by ten sets of eyes on me and an instant hush of silence. I sauntered over to stand behind J's chair at the head of the table.
"Hi fellas," I said, leaning in to smack a kiss on his cheek loudly. "I was missing my clown prince so I decided to come sit in on your meeting. That is…if it's okay with you guys?" I asked, knowing damn well no one would mind me being there. I knew how good I looked, J helped me embrace it, but I'm not sure he was prepared for the monster he had created. I mean, I was already so good at getting what I wanted without all the sex appeal, now, it seemed I was unstoppable.
I was met with a resounding sound of agreement among the men in the room, save for one. One of Tony's goons, I presumed since I didn't recognize him, turned to the man next to him and muttered.
"Looks like Mister J needs to shorten that dumb broad's leash." He snickered, his friend, however, was stock still – staring down the table at my J, who was looking less than amused.
"What," He said, causing everyone in the rooms head's to snap in his direction. "Did you just say?"
I watched the color drain from his face instantly as J stood up from his seat, moving to walk around the table and stand behind the man with the smart mouth. He placed his hands on his shoulders, gripping the muscles there tightly. To most people it was a friendly gesture, a nice shoulder rub was always welcomed, but from him it was as threatening as a cobra gearing back to strike.
"N-nothing, Mister J." The man started to sweat bullets, all eyes in the room on the pair of them.
"Oh, come on now, it wasn't nothing! Tell us! You know I love a good joke." He said, rolling his neck around sporadically and growling. The man looked desperately around the table for help but no one would dare say a word. A smug smile spread across my face. It was so hot to see J get worked up over someone disrespecting me, it always turned me on.
"I-I-I…" He sputtered.
"You, you, you WHAT?" J said, smacking the sides of the man's face.
"I said you need to put her on a shorter leash, sir," J started to laugh. It was quiet at first, just a chuckle, but it grew into that slow, maniacal laugh that I loved so much. My grin widened, I knew exactly what was coming. Unsure of what to do, the other men in the room began to laugh along with him nervously, including the big mouthed asshole seated in front of J. At the peak of his laughter, he drew out a straight razor from inside his jacket and slashed the man's throat deeply causing him to choke and sputter until he bled out on the table.
There was a very small moment of chaos that immediately followed. Tony's men all reached for their weapons, pointing them in his direction, to which J's crew drew theirs in response. It was Tony, however, who spoke order into the room.
"ENOUGH," He hollered. "Put your guns down, you idiots!" Tony's men reluctantly sat back down in their chairs, putting their guns back in their respective places.
"Mister J, I'm sorry for the disrespect. He was a new guy, had a real problem with his mouth. The way I see it is you did me a favor." J glided across the room and sat back in his chair at the head of the table, I moved to sit in his lap. He didn't stop me, just casually laid a hand over my lap while his other began idly rubbing my back.
"Shall we continue?" He purred, looking up at me and smiling. There was so much promise in that smile, as if to say "I'll deal with you later." I swallowed hard and tried to focus as the men went back to discussing their plans but all I could think about was what would happen once they left.
I had to admit that their idea was solid. They were planning to hit four banks, all within a five block radius of each other, back to back. A smash and grab type job. One of Tony's men had blueprints sprawled out on the table of all the safes in each bank, suggesting we use explosives to crack open each one.
"Excuse me," I said, finally chiming in. "You can use explosives for these two safes, but you'll never get into the other two. They're too thick for that, look," I pointed to the dimensions on the blueprints.
"It will take too much time for you to get it open which will increase the chances of you getting caught. However, these two models both have a weak spot. Does anyone have a pen?" J reached into his jacket and pulled out a red Sharpie, watching me with a mix of curiosity and amazement.
"Here, and here," I circled them on the blueprints, tossing the marker aside. "The metal is weak in those spots, it's a flaw in their design that wasn't fixed until the later models came out. You'd have better luck using that weakness to your advantage."
"And how do you propose we do that?" Tony asked, I saw his face was piqued with the same mix of emotions as J's.
"Well, you need something that's going to penetrate as deep as the door goes, that's at least four feet. How about you try freezing it? This particular type of metal splinters and cracks when it reaches a certain temperature." I said, sitting up and leaning back into J's chest.
"My guess would be if you got the metal cold enough to the point of it rupturing, you'd be able to push it open as easy as you pushed open the door to this room. Liquid nitrogen should get you there, you just need a device that can pump it into the seal here," I pointed once more to each blueprint.
A quiet murmur spread across the room as the men considered it.
"Look, guys, you only need to spend about ten minutes tops in each bank, anything more than that runs the risk of you guys getting busted and I'm not too keen on the idea of Mister J getting thrown back in the asylum." I shrugged, looking down at him and pushing my fingers through his hair, he purred in response, closing his eyes momentarily, lost in the feel of my hand on him. It was such an affectionate gesture that it made me blush. I had to clear my throat before I could continue.
"And the idea of hitting all four in a row seems like a stretch. I think your best bet would be to send in two separate teams to cover two banks each, it will cut your time in half and minimize the risk by at least that much as well."
"Shit, Mister J, your broad is real smart there, ain't she? I like her better than the last one." Tony said boldly, and I smiled at the compliment.
"So it would seem," J murmured. The men decided to adopt my idea and work their plans around the advice I'd given. When things were wrapping up all that was left was picking the day and time, and where to rendezvous for the cash drop.
"Kitten, I want you to head up Team A and hit the two banks with the faulty safes." I looked incredulously over at him.
"You mean it, baby?" I said, bringing my hands up his chest and around his neck. He nodded, leaning in to whisper in my ear.
"I'll be watching you every step of the way, so make daddy proud, you earned it." He cooed, causing a shiver to spread through me. I hugged him tightly before hopping off his lap, allowing him to stand with me and conclude the meeting.
"Well, gentlemen, it appears we have things in order. Tony, it's always a pleasure doing business with you." J shook the man's hand and placed his other at the small of my back. "I trust you can find your own way out. I promised this little lady a date and I've got to deliver otherwise she might put my head on a spike." He leaned in close to Tony, putting his hand up to his mouth, feigning secrecy, and said, "She's crazier than me, ya know." I nudged his shoulder with my own, smiling at him.
"Hey, I heard that." I said, and we both began to laugh as we left the room and made our way back to the elevator. I had completely forgotten that I was due for a punishment, still distracted by the high of being granted permission to head up part of J's new operation.
I was brought back down to reality when we met Simmons and Wallis near the elevator and, without taking his eyes off me, J shot both of them in the head. Chunks of their brains and blood spattered against the wall behind them and, despite my best efforts to hide it, the surprise and subtle hint of fear was easily detectable in my features.
The elevator binged open and he bent at the waist, gesturing me inside. I stepped in, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to shrink myself or disappear completely, I wasn't sure which. He started to laugh, pulling me close to him, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I stared at the floor, refusing to look at him as the elevator continued to climb up to our apartment.
"Oh, baby, don't get shy on me now. We're about to have so much fun." He said, and I heard him laugh again, it made me shiver.
I am so screwed.