Impossible Love

Chapter 11: An Indelible Mark

Joker helped Harleen down the short hallway out of the bathroom and onto one of the soft leather sofas in his office. Harleen sat down on the couch in a daze, not quite realizing the full impact of what just happened in the last 10 minutes. Joker stood in front of her and leaned down to kiss her forehead and rub her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "How is your neck? Can you breathe? I can get you a doctor."

Harleen looked up at him with sorrow in her lovely green eyes. "I'm okay. I don't need a doctor, I just want to go home," she said in a mere whisper.

"Okay, give me a few minutes. I'll be right back," he assured her, "and then I'm taking you back home."

Harleen closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to get a bath and rest in a comfortable bed.

Joker returned to the bathroom where Ziggy's half naked body was sprawled on the floor. He felt an anger well up within him—an anger greater than he ever felt when he was being tortured at Arkham. He felt completely betrayed by the man whom he trusted almost implicitly. Ziggy was part of his inner circle of men. He managed an important account. Yet, Ziggy was stealing from him and he knew there had to have been a connection between him and the guards at Arkham. He knew that Ziggy must have been paying them off. For what purpose? Joker wondered. To keep me subdued? To ensure I didn't escape?

Joker spat on the man's body when a tattoo of the word "HA" on his lower abdomen caught his eye. Joker leaned down and lifted the dead man's shirt and then ripped it open, causing its buttons to pop off. Joker's lips turned downward as he saw that the man's chest was littered in tattoos similar to his own: a jester, playing cards, laughter written out. Joker grabbed the bloody sconce that he had left on the floor.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!!" he screamed out and then slammed the heavy glass onto the floor, breaking it into several large pieces and cutting his already injured hand even more in the process. "YOU MOTHERFUCK!"

Joker's chest heaved as he made the realization that Ziggy wasn't just betraying Joker to the authorities, but he was also trying to become the Joker himself. Under normal circumstances, Joker might find this to be amusing—even flattering—but this once trusted associate was responsible for an unspeakable betrayal, which included defiling his queen. He wasn't sure which act made him more angry—the fact that he was stealing his money to ensure that Arkham's guards continued to terrorize him, the fact that he seemed to be emulating him in a probable attempt to usurp his position as leader of his empire, or the fact that he sexually assaulted his woman.

"J?" Frost said as he stepped back into the doorway. "I have a car ready for you."

Joker wiped his mouth on his wrist, transferring some of his blood from his hand to his face. The blood flowing from the wounds on his hand now began to drip on the floor. "Jonny, we need to talk," Joker said turning to Frost with a grim look. "You are the only person I can trust right now."

Frost nodded in response. He knew things were serious when Joker called him by his first name and not his code name. Joker gestured to Ziggy's tattooed body and explained that he believed Ziggy was planning on taking over his empire and how it lined up with the probable payments to the guards at Arkham. Frost agreed.

"I'll keep tabs on Arlo and Rocky," Frost suggested, referring to the other men who helped Ziggy manage the gambling account.

"Good, text me with anything you find. We need to stay close together on this one," Joker said as he grabbed a hand towel from beneath the sink and wrapped it around his bloody hand. "No one tries to take over my business or my girl and gets away with it!"