Freedom

Part 8: The Group Bathroom

Jerome ushered Danica into the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind him.

"I thought the doors were supposed to stay unlocked at all times?" Danica reminded him.

He rolled his eyes.

"Don't be such a goody-goody. We're breaking all kinds of rules in here. Or we will be anyway." Jerome smiled. "Just a word of advice, sweet cheeks: if you're fantasizing about how a life was like before you came here, then you're never going to be happy. You're beautiful, Danica. But that's about the only thing you have got going on in here."

He approached her.

"I have other qualities instead of the way I look," Danica remarked.

"Oh, if you're counting being a snob, then yes." He drawled, smiling. "What was your crime, babe?"

Danica frowned.

"Touchy subject?" Jerome suggested.

"Yes, you can say that." Danica considered. "Too much."

"Eesh, one of those?"

"No," Danica exclaimed. "He was just really drunk and high all the time, so I did shit with him to keep him happy. Drugs, Jerome." Danica expressed, annoyed.

"He'd get abusive if I refused, obviously." She indicated her scars on her body. "So I did what he wanted until I couldn't take it anymore. Meth is one hell of a drug."

"An addict like you—act like you don't like that. Biggest lie of them all."

"I didn't say I hated it. I just couldn't do it anymore. But my story is not impressive, hence the fake story."

"How sad. And boring." Jerome sighed. "Look, we've all got Mommy and Daddy issues. Luckily it's not the same issues, so..."

"I made him overdose," Danica said plainly. "Yeah. Stuck a needle in his arm with heroin and he was gone."

"Yeah...so?"

"So...They sent me here instead of a recovery center. Thought I was insane. But I was more out of it while high than anything."

"Then we'll just have to get you there without pumping you full of drugs, huh?" Jerome resumed. "And if there is one thing that I'm good at, it's making people lose your minds."

He sighed. "Look, we'll talk about this later. We're gonna be pushed for time if we don't start now."

Danica looked at him disdainfully.

"Oh, you think I'm in the mood now."
"Doesn't matter." Jerome said as he stepped toward her. "I can change that."

Danica stepped away from him only to be met by the bathroom wall, back pressed against it with no way around him. Jerome leered at her.

"I can be very persuasive. You already know this, babe. Oh. But I do have a question: why lie about your age?"

"Nobody takes an 18-year-old seriously."

"Oh, don't they?" Jerome drawled.

"Charismatic guy like you, of course, of course they would." Danica muttered. She allowed him to wrap his hands around her waist.  "Jerome, I want to leave."

"What, now?" he questioned. "I'm halfway to a—"

"Not the bathroom, dearie," Danica clarified. "Arkham. I want to escape Arkham."

"Again, we'll talk about it later. First things first," he grinned widely, "Ladies, first."
Danica sighed. He had the attention span of a child: when he didn't enjoy the conversation anymore, he'd change it until he was ready to revisit it. But he certainly was convincing. Jerome caressed her neck with his lips, finding his very spot and licking tender flesh.