The Queen of Gotham

Chapter 14

I slowly manage to get myself into a sitting position as I crawl over to the sink. I strip out of my red top, and look at myself in the mirror. My stomach is covered in blood, and I look more pale than I normally do. That isn't a good thing.

I use the the water and paper towels to clean my face and stomach. I wrap paper towels around my gushing wound and put my shirt back on. Thanks to my shirt being red, the blood on it is barely noticeable.

My phone starts ringing again, and I find it under the sink that I'm standing at. I frown at the caller ID and almost hit the big red button at the bottom, but decide against making my life worse. "Mr. Quinzel, what do I owe the pleasure of this completely pointless call?"

"Harleen, don't get smart with me. You are to call me father, dad, or not at all. I'm calling in regards to your engagement. I do hope you have picked out a wedding date, child." I growl out in anger. I refuse to go through with this, ruining me or not. I won't be treated this way. I'm oddly reminded of what Ivy had told me yesterday. I almost laugh out at the joke that I call my life.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! Why on fucking earth would I marry someone who beats me to a bloody pulp and rapes me? In fact, I just picked myself up and finished cleaning my bloody body." I'm so fucking pissed, and I let out a humorless laugh. My anger is to a boiling point as I feel myself give in to the growing darkness.

"You call asking about a wedding for your daughter and a woman beating rapist? Well, let me tell you something, father! There will be no fucking wedding! I won't go through with this bullshit!" I hung up the phone, took the ring off my finger, and proceeded to throw it across the bathroom.

I sob once more before I wipe my face clean. I refuse to cry over that man anymore, and I won't ever let anyone see me break. I refuse to be the weak girl who can't take care of myself. I'm a strong, independent woman who has a right to her own opinions in her life.

I will never let another person lay their hands on me. I will never let words bring me down again, and I will get through this. I'm Harleen Fucking Quinzel! No one will ever try to control my fucking life again.

I nod to myself in the mirror, then I march out of there a free woman. I make my way to my car, start it up and drive to work. I give a flying fuck about what life throws at me. I'll do whatever the fuck I so please to do, and right now, I want my fucking friends.

I pull up to the asylum and grab my lab coat from the back seat. I pull my hair from my ponytail and let it flow freely. I make sure that most of the blood is cleaned up before I deem myself worthy of walking in.

I show everyone my ID even though they all gave me weird looks. Probably because I'm wearing a red tank top and black shorts while covered in bruises. My legs have barely there bruises, but my face has several still healing.

I don't stop at my office or to talk to anyone. I march straight to the meeting room, stopping in front of the guards by the door. I request a session with Ivy and Selina, but it comes out as more of a demand.

I go in and sit down in my chair as I wait for the guards to bring them to me. My anger slowly dwindles a little as I wait, but I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. My father and ex-fiancé can kiss my white ass for all I care.

"You wanted to see us, Harl-Oh my god! Harley what happened to you?!" Ivy runs over and looks at my face while Selina sits in the chair across form me. They both look at me in concern and worry.

I smile at her calmly and shrug like it's completely normal for my face to look like this. My lip is split, my nose is a little broken, and I have a large cut on my left eyebrow with many bruises on my jawline. I think my adrenaline is dulling out the pain, or maybe I'm getting used to it. That thought should disturb, but it doesn't.