17. Chapter 17
Ismoothed down the stiff fabric of my uniform shirt, pulling the collar up as high as it would go. I buttoned it right to the throat, the tight fabric chafing against the tender skin beneath. It was suffocating, but it was the only shield I had left.
Taking a shaky breath, I unlocked the heavy security door to the Jester’s cell.
The door clicked open, and the oppressive, sterile smell of the high-security wing gave way to the strange, dizzying scent that always lingered in his room—like crushed peppermint.
“Well, look who finally decided to join the party!”
The Jester’s voice piped up, dripping with a bright, theatrical cheerfulness that felt entirely wrong for a concrete cage. He was sitting on the edge of his bolted-down cot, ankles securely chained to the floor rings, wrists bound by a heavy leather lap-belt.
“You’re late, doll. I was starting to think you forgot about me.”
“Had a rough start to the morning,” I muttered, keeping my head down as I rolled the mop bucket into the cell. I purposefully kept my voice low, trying to mask the raspy, broken edge left behind by the chokehold.
“Oh? A rough start?” He leaned in closer, trying to catch my gaze. “And here I thought you’d be practically bouncing through that door. Tell me... did you sleep well? Have any sweet, sweet dreams?”
A sudden, violent wave of heat rushed straight to my face.
My mind flashed back to the morning—to the memory of his phantom lips, the heat of his weight pinning me down, and the shameful, blinding pleasure that had made me wake up soaking in sweat.
My cheeks burned so hot I was certain he could see the glow of it from across the room.
I froze, my hands tightening on the handle of the mop.
The Jester gasped, a low, delighted sound that made my stomach do a slow flip.
“You’re turning into a little strawberry. Did you dream about me, sweetface?”
I swallowed hard, the movement sending a sharp pang through my bruised throat. “I don't remember my dreams,” I lied, my voice cracking slightly as I forced myself to start wringing out the mop.
“Liar, liar,” he chanted softly, a breathless, musical laugh bubbling up from his chest. “You did. You absolutely did. Oh, that is deliciously delicious.”
He swayed slightly from side to side, his smile softening into something strangely intimate, though the chaotic spark in his eyes never faded.
“Don't look so terrified, sweetheart. It’s okay if you did. In fact... I like that. I like that very, very much. Tell me, did I treat you well? Was I good for you? Or more importantly–were you a good girl for me?”
I nearly dropped the mop. His onslaught of questions felt like a physical weight, pressing down on me until the heat in my cheeks turned into a scorching, unmanageable fire. My pulse thudded erratically, the sheer fluster making it impossible to string a logical sentence together.
“I already told you, I don’t remember my dreams. And I definitely didn’t dream about you.”
Needing to escape the laser-focus of his stare, I turned sharply to drag the mop toward the far corner of the cell. But in my haste, I made a critical mistake. I forgot how the harsh overhead fluorescent light hit that specific angle of the room.
And I forgot I was now directly in his line of sight.
As I reached upward, the fabric of my shirt pulled taut. The stiff, buttoned collar shifted, riding down just an inch.
Just enough.
“Oh, sweetface, don’t—”
The cheerful, sing-song cadence of his voice died. The air in the cell instantly dropped ten degrees as a heavy, suffocating silence filled the room.
I froze, my back still turned to him.
“Turn around,” he whispered.
The playfulness was gone. His voice was flat, hollow, and laced with an icy gravity that sent a violent shiver down my spine.
Slowly, reluctantly, I turned my head to face him.
The Jester hadn't moved, but his eyes narrowed into lethal slits as he stared at my throat. The flesh-colored fabric of my collar had settled back into place.
But the damage was done.
He had seen it.
“What,” he murmured, voice dangerously quiet, “happened to your neck?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly, my voice cracking under the pressure. I reached up with a trembling hand, fumbling to yank the collar back up to my chin. “It’s nothing. I told you, I just had a rough morning, I’m tired, I—”
“Don’t lie to me!”
The explosion was instantaneous and deafening.
The Jester lunged forward with a ferocity that defied his restraints.
The heavy steel chains anchored to the floor snapped taut with a violent, metallic CLANG that echoed off the concrete walls.
He thrashed against them, his wrists straining against the thick leather lap-belt, the metal links rattling and shrieking as he threw his entire weight forward again and again.
“Who touched you?!” he roared, his face contorting into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. The manic grin was gone, replaced by a bared-teeth snarl that made him look entirely feral. “Who the hell laid their hands on you?!”
I stumbled backward, knocking over the mop bucket. Gray, soapy water splashed across the floor tiles, but neither of us noticed.
“It was an accident, I tripped, I—”
“Who hurt you?!” He yanked upward on his arm restraints so hard I heard the leather groan, the chains whipping against the floor like striking snakes.
He was a hurricane of violent, chaotic motion, completely oblivious to the metal bruising his own skin.
“Give me a name! Who was it?! Who thinks they can touch what belongs to me? I’ll tear their throat out! !”
He locked his burning, maddened eyes onto mine, panting heavily, his chest heaving as he strained against the chains.
“Tell me who did it, sweetface. Tell me, or I will rip these chains out of the bedrock and find them myself and paint this whole goddamn wing with their blood.”
"Why does it matter?"
A sudden calm swept over the Jester.
"Trust me, doll, I'll find out who, but you can make this a lot easier."
I wanted to laugh at the irony if not for the fear gripping my senses.
"Honestly? The only person who can hurt me is you! You had someone break into my apartment for fuck's sake."
"Apples and oranges, sugar-plum! Apples and goddamn oranges!" He rattled the chains playfully, a giddy, manic spark returning to his eyes.
His posture went rigid, the teasing tone dying in an instant.
"I sent a little canary to your apartment to leave you a reminder that bad girls get punished.
That wasn't hurting you. If I wanted to hurt you, doll, you wouldn't be standing there breathing my air.
So, don't confuse my attention with an attack...
and don't dodge the question. Who put those marks on you? "
The fear was beginning to dissipate into annoyance. Through gritted teeth, I sneered, "Go fuck yourself."
Then I got to my feet.
The grin stayed on his face, but it turned venomous.
"You can roll those pretty eyes all you want, honey-bun," he purred. "You want to play tough? Fine. But remember—every second you keep that name from me is another second I spend fantasizing about all the terrible, dirty things I'm going to do to you when I finally get out of these chains."
I grabbed my mop and sent him a withering glance. "You're never getting out of those chains."
"Oh?"
I pursed my lips and went for the bar but stopped when I heard the Jester's pause.
A silence settled over the room, heavy and thick, broken only by the quiet clink of the iron links as he shifted. When I turned back to look at him, his head was tilted.
Then, a sharp, barking laugh tore through the air, making me jump.
"Oh, never! She says never! God, I love a woman with a sense of humor! It’s practically foreplay! Dollface, I’ve broken out of padded cells, high-security vaults, and you think a few pounds of iron and some security cameras are going to keep me from you?"
My mouth went dry as I banged against the bars.
Come on, come on.
I needed out of here now.
Behind me, the Jester let out a sigh.
"You can pretend I’m trapped, doll face. You can tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night. But we both know the only reason I’m still sitting in these chains is because I like the way you look when you think you’re in control."
He licked his lips slowly, a low, dangerous purr vibrating deep in his chest.
"Sweet dreams, sugar... I'll be seeing you real soon."