Jerome's Little Toy

17

We part lips as Jerome grabs me and holds me against his chest while pointing a gun to my head.

I'm afraid. I'm very afraid.

"Don't worry, they won't shoot at us. They don't have the guts. And I would never shoot you." Jerome whispers in my ear assuringly.
Why. The. Fuck. Are. They. Here.

"Hold your fire!" A familiar voice calls out.
Oh great.
Jerome laughs, not his laugh from last night, a batshit crazy laugh. Still cute though.

"Jerome, let her go." The voice says again, it's Jim Gordon, like always.

"Why? So you can take her back to her miserable life with you? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think she'd rather stay with me." He says to the police. He's correct.

"You're wrong Jerome, let her go! Now!" Jim says, raising his gun. Oh he's angry.

"Whatcha gonna do Jim? You don't have a clean shot!" Jerome laughs, walking back a little. This isn't good.

"Maybe not at you." Jim states calmly, clicking the safety off of his gun. Uh oh.

"Wait!" Jerome screams, attempting to get me out of the way. He fails.

Falling to the ground, I look at my leg, that's not good.

"Oh shit! I've been shot! Oh my God! Holy fuck! I'm gonna pass out! I didn't even eat the ice cream yet. Oh no." I scream as Jerome takes off his shirt, and ties it around my upper calf.

"Shhhhhhhh, it didn't hit anything major. The most this'll do to you is give you a scar." He says, cradling my head. I'm still screaming.

I drift off in Jerome's arms crying, bleeding, and pissed.

The next few chapters will be longer. I pinky promise.