Addicted

Chapter 11

. ⋅ ˚̣- : TW!! : -˚̣⋅ .

⛧Violence

⛧Some sensuality

⛧Swearing

༻Enjoy, Darlings༺

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

A few days later, as I'm getting out of my car at the OBGYN's, a strange man approaches me. He seems kind of shady, so I ignore him, but when it's clear he's approaching me, I eye him suspiciously, trying to figure out his intentions.

"Are you Harley Quinn?" he asks, scrutinizing me intensely. He's white, and his accent sounds vaguely Irish. "...Yes," I say warily, starting to think this guy was bad news. He smiles. "Oh, good. Wouldn't wanna kidnap the wrong girl," he says, and before I have time to even think, blink even, his fist connects with the side of my head, and into unconsciousness I sink.

I wake up in an absolutely filthy room. I wrinkle my nose. Even Belle Reve was better than this. It might have been hellish with cruel guards, but at least it was mostly clean. A stabbing pain in my head interrupts my thoughts. Oh my god. Oh my god, where am I? OH MY GOD, what about the baby? Is he okay? I scramble to my feet, but a wave of dizziness stops me fairly quickly.

I sink onto a dirty cot, feeling around my stomach. I search my pockets, but they've been emptied. Damn it. Who is this guy? He didn't look like any of Puddin's enemies.

A wave of anger surges over me. What did I do whoever he is? Why would he kidnap me? I start to my feet- SLOWLY- and walk towards the door, wincing with every step. When I get to the door, I peer out the small window and see a little black guy on his phone. "Hey!" I yell. "What the hell am I doing here? Let me out!"

He flinches and scrambles to his feet, getting as far away from the door as possible. I start to bang on it with my fists, and he begins to panic.

"Oh, shit, oh, shit! She's up! SHE'S UP!" he yells down the hall. I hear running, and multiple guards come sprinting down the corridor. One of them barks orders to the rest. "Careful! She's dangerous, boys! Keep away from her mouth, feet, and hands! Let's go, let's go! Boss wants her now!"

Two of them open the lock and burst through the door, pinning me to the wall. Without hesitation, I kick out and hit one guy in the soft spot. He falls back, but the other one pushes me even harder against the wall, slapping cuffs on my wrists roughly. I roll my eyes, fuming. "So it's gonna be like that, huh?" I sneer. I sag for a second, then whip my head back and hit him in the nose. I hear something crunch, and he curses, letting go of me. I wince, seeing stars, but push through the rest of the guys and start down the hall, laughing a bit at their naivety.

But I barely get 30 feet when the quickest one catches up with me and slams into my legs. I buckle, falling to my knees painfully, and I swear, black spots dancing across my vision.

He hauls me up, grimacing. "Damn, they were right. You really are crazy," he says, restraining me. I struggle, but his grip is like iron. He laughs. "You aren't getting out of here until we get our recognition and ransom, Honey. Your Puddin better care as much as you say he does, or you'll be here for a longggggg time..." he says, leaning into my face. I stare at him disgustedly, then spit. He gasps. "Why, you dirty little whor-"

"Gent, that's enough," the leader says, catching up to us. "Boss wants her, so stop holding us up." He takes my arm. "Come on, Miss Quinn. Rashad wishes to see you immediately."

Rashad? Who in the actual fuck? I let him lead me down the hall, knowing that trying to escape right now is a bad idea, even for me. Finally, we get to a dim semi-large entrance/banquet hall-type room with a rough, throne-like chair at the end of it. A large African man sits on it, twirling one of his dreads around his finger.