Crazy for You - Valeska Brothers x Female OC (Gotham)

28. Alive and Kicking

I kinda feel like this chapter is a bit rushed, and I'm sorry if you agree.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
----

Sam's P.O.V

After the blackout, I didn't know what to do.

I was secretly hoping that the GCPD would find me, but I knew it would be long shot. They probably were having troubles with the amount of crime Jerome has spurred up.

I lit up some candles, which I'm bloody well glad I bought, but have no idea what to do after.

So, I just stand by the window and wait.

Am I ready to face Jerome?

I don't know.

Do I have anything to protect myself?

Nope. Jerome will probably have a gun with him, and I never wanted to own one, and never will.

Am I screwed?

Hell yeah.

So, I just stand there, looking out of the window, hoping that someone else will find me before he does.

Bang!

I turn around, looking at my front door.

If it was the GCPD knocking, they would've shouted it already. And I didn't order a takeaway.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Someone's trying to kick the door down.

Definitely not my sweet elderly neighbour, Irene, either.

It's Jerome. Or some of his followers.

It has to be.

I sit on the floor, my back to the side of my couch, so when the door does finally come down, whoever steps through it won't see me. Not straight away, at least.

BANG!

To stop myself from screaming, I hold my hand over my mouth. They kicked the door off its hinges.

"Sammy..."

Oh, no, no, no.

Shit.

Heavy footsteps move forward, into my apartment. I don't even dare to look around the couch, because I know who it is.

"Oh, do you remember when we used to play hide and seek, back in the good ol' days?" Jerome's voice gets louder, along with his footsteps, "You seem to have forgotten, that I always, won."

"Split up," I hear him mumble, and I realise that he's not the only person looking for me.

I press myself further against the couch, hoping that he won't see me.

I hear multiple footsteps move around my apartment, and flinch when someone steps past me, not seeing my hunched form.

A scream rips through my throat after I try to crawl away quietly, but turn to the other side of the coach to see Jerome smirking down at me.

----

Jerome's P.O.V

I grin madly at her. How long had it been? Two, three months? Probably longer, but how that hell am I meant to know? I've been dead.