I don't normally hear much but this time I overheard the men talking. A deep voice spoke, "You know where the girl come from?"

Another male voice answered, "I dunno. Boss just picked her up at the house that some of us were made to watch. I don't know much but he says we ain't to go near her."

I rolled my eyes. Jealously at its finest... maybe even possession in his case. I moved stuff around in my little room since I have no other things to occupy my time. I rearranged the frames, placed the flower box on the other side of the bed underneath, and put the suitcase by the door. My homemade alarm system in case someone does come in here unwanted. Joker really have been gone away for a while. I am sure it has to do with the Batman I hear about. The door slammed open as I was moving the three of us picture to the left hand side. Now it landed on the floor with the glass shattering on the floor. I frowned, "I swear to god, I am going to murder you."

A voice that I did not expect to hear, "I am sure you wouldn't be able to, doll."

I swallowed turning around. It's the deep voice man that was standing outside. The other man he was talking to popped his head in the room, "Dude. I don't think this is a good idea. Boss will come by soon."

The tall brute man glanced behind him seeing the gangly man turning white as a sheet. The brute man shook his head, "He ain't coming around. Now close the door. I went to the bathroom or something."

I took a step back as he took one step forward. I winced as the glass pierced my bare soles. My hands found the night table. My knuckles started to turn white as the smile on his face turned disgustingly. He spoke, "Why are you backing away?"

My mouth opened and closed. No sound coming out. His giant hand came to my cheek and gently rubbed against it. I felt it leave and my head moved to the right by the momentum of his slap. My hand shakingly went to my cheek feeling the sting. His voice broke the silence, "We are going to have fun."

I moved having the glass dig deeper into my skin. His hand grabbed my arm pulling me up with his strength. I yelped, "Let go!"

He threw me on the bed. I felt the stickiness of my blood slide down my soles when I tried to move away from him. I cried out in pain when he pulled me up by the hair holding me up. His thick big hand tugged on my shirt before he ripped it in half. My black lacy bra is showing in its glory in front of him. His lips went into a smirk. I looked around to find something to help me out. I didn't find anything other than the photos. The closest one is the one in our wedding picture. I desperately reached for it but he grabbed my hand in a tight grip. I looked down seeing my leg is in between his. I did the one thing that every woman or man know to do when they are in this situation without a weapon. My knee met his manhood which resulted him groaning. His hand let go of mine to grab his area to recover as I went to grab the photo. I slammed it over his head shattering the glass. I scrambled to get out of underneath him. My feet took me where I need to go where I can get away. I ignored the pain caused by my feet. I hopped down bounding to the door. My footsteps aren't the only ones sounded in the room. I glanced behind me seeing the brute man slowly recovering but now after me. I pushed my suitcase behind me. I heard him scrambling over it. I opened the door pushing past the gangly man. He called out, "Wait!"

I ran to the only room I know opening the door, "Screw you!"

I slammed the door having the sound echo through the warehouse. I looked at the knob seeing there is a turn lock. I turned it and grabbed the chair at the desk placing it underneath the knob. My heart beat quickly. I took the time to relax to look around the room. I couldn't help but snort when I found a poor stitched up pillow on his bed. I took a moment to listen outside before moving away from the door. I called out, "Jack?"

No answer. At least there was no answer or he would of pounced me by now. I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palm. I crawled into bed taking in his scent. He still smells the same with a hint of grease paint. Surprisingly considering how much he wears it. The coolness of the silk sheets brought goosebumps on my skin. The sensation made me forget about my drying up wounds on my bottoms of feet. My eyes start to close at the sense of safety.

The Joker moved his shotgun around, "Where is Harvey Dent?"

The Joker moved through the crowd using an intimidation act. He gave one of his men the shotgun now grabbing a champagne glass. Tipping it backwards, he barely got any alcohol. He grabbed a skewer chewing on what ho'duerve this Bruce Wayne is serving. He asked a little louder, "Where is Harvey Dent? Have you seen him?"

The Joker stopped in front of an older man who spoke up, "We aren't afraid of ruffians like you."

The Joker took one step back chewing on the food. He eyed the older man, "You know who you remind me of?"

His hands instantly went to the man's head, "My father. I hated my father."

The Joker continued, "You know ho-."

A female voice interrupted him, "Okay, stop."

The Joker let go of the man taking a good look at the woman. His brows went up, "You must be Harvey's main squeeze. Aren't you a beauty?"

His mind couldn't help but think what his little Maddie would of done if she heard him say that. He walked closer to the woman pointing his knife at her. His hands instantly went to the woman's face as she resisted him, "Is it the scars?"

The Joker's gloved hands tried to guide her face to stare at him, " You know I have a wife..."

His thoughts went to the woman sitting in her little room.

I looked at the woman who just bore our son into the world. Bore into the world I mean by C-section. Unfortunately when we heard of the news of having a baby they also gave the news later down the line that her hips were too small to give birth to a healthy baby. The soft cooing of the 6lb 12oz baby boy sounded between us. I placed my finger inside his makeshift bed touching his chubby cheeks. His cooing got louder. I spoke quietly, "Eric... don't make so much noises. Your mother is trying to sleep."

A little yawn came from our son's mouth and proceeded to coo. I didn't hear the shuffling in the bed till her voice sounded the room, "Jack... What's wrong?"

My eyes darted up to her, "Nothing... I think he is just talkative like someone I know."

I saw her roll her eyes weakly. Still have that attitude. She held out her arms. The tubes and needles attached to her pumping whatever into her system. I scooped him up gently and placed him into her arms. She moved to sit up wincing while doing so. They left a nasty cut below. They say she would heal real nice but I doubt it. I seen the staples and they don't look like it would be a clean heal. I brought my attention to my wife seeing her gently caressing our son's bald head. Well he does have peach fuzz but not much. Her voice brought my full attention, "Jack... will you still... be okay with me after I am healed?"

I pulled the chair to her bedside sitting on it. I gently ran my hand along her side, "Of course I will. They are going to be scars."

Her eyes didn't move from our son, I noticed. I have a feeling that this is one of the emotional breakdowns after giving birth. I notice tears coming from her eyes as she cradled our son closer to her. I had to jump up taking our son from her. Our son started crying and I gently rocked him. I stared at her as she started to grab at the sheets where it should be at. I rushed to the button for nurse and pressed it as many times thinking they would get here faster. She is having a mental emotional breakdown. I heard this happens sometimes to women but I didn't expect it to happen to her... She cried out quietly, "I'm a monster."

I was able to calm our son down. The nurses rushed in grabbing her hands away from her stables. Her incision ended up opening again as I could see red seep through the white sheets. I felt my heart stop at the thought of her possibly losing more blood than she should. A nurse started over to me, "Sir I'm going to ask you to leave for the moment. We have to restitch her."

I cradled our son with one arm grabbing his makeshift bed wheeling it out with me. My brows knitted together in worry. I hope she would be fine around our son soon and accept herself stitches and all.

A deep husky voice appeared behind the Joker, "Then you're going to love me."

The Joker smiled. Now he has something to take out on his all-the-sudden anger.