Freak is an Ugly Word

A new chapter for all of you. I hope you enjoy. Thanks to all those that rated and message. They were truly appreciated.

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Down the dirty dark streets Princess went to get back to her small crappy apartment. At least there, there would be someone waiting for her. There she had someone who cared about her and would protect her. Croc, the only man that loved her the way a woman was supposed to be loved by a man. He may not be the pretties of men, but he was the sweetest. He would hold her, comfort her, and offer her the love she wanted but could not return. If only she could melt the iced bitterness around her heart. Then, she knew, she would be able to return that love. But there was no possible way of that. Not just them. Maybe, just maybe, when she had paid off all of her father’s debt and was no longer in the clutches of the mob she could do just that. Until then, he would love but never be loved in return.

Bright headlights hit her face as a car drove down the street. For a moment, Princess was blinded. The lights were abnormally bright in the pitch black of the street. She stopped not being able to see where she was going, closing her eyes. Even through her eyelids she could still see the bright light. When they disappeared Princess opened her eyes and looked around. The car had not left, but parked itself on the street next to her.

The dome light inside the car turned on as the driver’s door opened. Out of it a man stepped and made his way toward Princess. By just the way the man walked, she could tell that he was a cop. In a few quick strides he was on her and gripped her upper arm tightly.

She struggled against his grip as he led her to the car. “What the hell?!” she screamed at him. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Let me go!”

“I’m placing you under arrest under the suspicion of prostitution,” his deep voice growled. Princess rolled her eyes. She figured that much. In the darkness, she could not make out his features. All that she could tell was that he was much bigger than her, but so was just about every man in the world.

After she was forcefully shoved against the car, he ordered her to spread her legs. She obeyed, and he began his search. He started at her shoulders and worked his way down. Checking her pockets, he found the playing card and replaced it but pocketed the cash. Already a deep hatred was growing inside her of the man. She had earned that money fair and square, and he had taken it from her. She hated cops, but most of all, she hated dirty cops. They were the worst breed of the vile creatures.

It was not until his hand brushed against her most intimate of spots that Princess thought something really wrong. Her entire body froze still. He was one of those cops. She had heard tales of them from the other girls who had come into contact with them. They were the ones that used and abused their powers as enforcers of the law. Most of them were in the pockets of the mob. But there were a few strays, and she guessed that the man frisking her was one of them. If he was not, then he would not have picked her up this way. The mob would have provided entertainment for him.

Princess shook. She was afraid. It was going to happen again. She was going to be rapped, and there was nothing she could do about it. The option of fighting back had been beaten from her long ago. She had not been taught to fight but submit. Submission was all she knew in a world of dominance. She would do whatever the man wanted. Take whatever he gave.

After he was done frisking her, the cop stood up and pressed himself against her. “Let me go,” she pleaded. “I haven’t done nothin’ wrong.”

“Now, we both know that’s not true.” His hot breath hit her neck and she could smell the alcohol on it. Just perfect. A drunk cop while still on duty and in uniform. Gotham’s finest at work. Princess opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. “Shut up! I know what you are,” he growled at her. “I’ve arrested whores before. Not a single on of them had panties on. Makes it easier for you little sluts, doesn’t it?”

Princess just nodded. It was true. All the girls left their bottoms bare of panties. Some customers liked it in their cars and it was a little cumbersome to pull off the little pieces of fabrics in such a small space. Things went so much more smoothly without them. Took less time as well. Time was money, and they had to earn a living, or work off a debt.

The stagnant alcoholic breathe filled attacked her nostrils once again as the man chuckled deeply. Princess hated alcohol. The smell, taste, and the effects it had on people. The nice drunks were okay, the just giggled and lovingly hugged people. It was the mean ones that she had a problem with. Her father had been a mean drunk. Never hit her, but called her horrible things that were more directed toward her mother. Years ago, her mother had picked up everything and had left her father for another man, his partner of six years. They had skipped town, leaving Princess behind. She despised her mother for it. The woman had known that her father did not care for her, that if she left all she would have was her older brother.

Her brother had no idea the things their father had said to her. When he was present, the man was normal and acted like they were one big happy family. It hadn’t been until Frankie went to college that he started to drink. Princess preferred when he didn’t. He would just ignore her. His inattentiveness was better than the horribly vulgar things he yelled at her.

Alcohol changed people. Even the sweetest man was not immune to its effects. Croc hadn’t been. He had come home drunk once and only once. That night had been terrible. The worse she had ever experienced with the man. He had been so rough, not having the ability to control himself. It was not until he had seen her tears that he sobered up. After that he had held her, apologizing for what he did, and promised he would never drink again. To that day, he had held true to his word.

Princess felt the man’s hands start to roam her body. She was sickened by his touch and could throw up right there. There was nothing in her stomach to throw up; she had not eaten anything all day. It was not that her apartment was void of food, it was full of it, she just was not hungry that day. There were days that she would go without eating because she did not feel hungry. Her body was used to starvation and still tried to keep it. It left her very skinny. She was not like Selina who was lucky enough to have an athletic build to her. Princess was just skinny.

“You’re a bony little thing, ain’t cha?” the cop asked as his hand rubbed against her ribs, thumb brushing the bottom of her breast.

Though she tried desperately to hold it in, a tear escaped her and slid down her cheek. Why didn’t he just get it over with? Just get it over with and take her to the station. He was going to no matter what she did. The vile bastards always took them to the stations. Princess had never visited one; she had never been caught, until then. She just wished that it had been a clean cop. But none of them were ever really clean in her eyes.

The man was taking too long. Taking his sweet time with her. “Just get it over with and take me to the station,” she whispered hoarsely. The lump in her throat was so large that she felt as if she was going to choke on it. It made it even hard to breathe and even harder to hold back her tears.

“Just can’t wait for me to fuck you. Fine, I’ll give the whore what she wants.”
Princess went deaf and numb to all around her. It was her only defense against such things. It wasn’t until later, when she was at the station surrounded by cops that she realized that the man had finished with her. She did not even remember him cuffing her. Tears that she could not recall spilling stained her cheeks.

A woman officer took her from the man to process her. Without a word, Princess let the woman lead her away. She searched her pocket and found the playing card. She seemed to be more interested in it than the previous officer had been. The jacket Princess had been wearing was taken from her as well.

After being fingerprinted she was thrown into a cell. Normally, with her being a woman, she would have been thrown into her own cell, but they seemed to be full up. Every cell had at least three of four occupants in it, Princess’ was no exception. Unfortunately, she was stuck with all men and all of them had smirks on their faces.

Gripping the bars to the cell so tightly her knuckles were white, Princess kept on her feet as far away from the men as possible. She did not want to go near them. At the moment, men were he least favorite species. They were all vile and disgusting, and those men that stared at her lecherously from the bench would be the worst.

She glanced over her shoulder at them constantly. Afraid that if she took her eyes off of them for more than a minute they would attack her. Silently she prayed that one of the cops would come and let her have her phone call. Croc would be the one that she called. He would come and get her. He would save her. He was the only one that she trusted. He would ever purposely hurt her.

“Hey, baby,” one of the men called to her. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. He pated the bench next to him. “Why don’t you come and have a seat next to us. We won’t bite ya.”

Turning away from him, she stayed where she was. Nothing was going to make her move from that spot. She watched the door closely, finding herself hoping that a cop would walk through it. Anything was better than the men sharing the cell with her.

The man that had talked to her stood up and slinked his way to her. “What’s the matter?” he asked as he leaned against the bars next to her. “Don’t you like us?”

She took a step away from him. He was too close. “Just leave me alone, please,” she pleaded.

He reached a hand toward her but stopped in mid gesture when the door to the holding cell room was slammed open. “Step away from her!” a male voice commanded. Princess had never been happier to see anyone in her life. She even recognized the man from her childhood. James Gordon. Her brother Frankie had idolized him and wanted to be just as good a cop as he.

With his hands held up, the man stepped away from her. “Come on, Gordon, I wasn’t doin’ anythin’ wrong. Just chattin’ with her.”

“I’m sure.” He unlocked the cell door. His intense gaze hit Princess. “Come with me, I have a few questions to ask you.”

Walking quickly, Princess did as the man instructed. Once she was in his reach, he gripped her tightly by the elbow and led her away, taking care to lock the cell door behind him. “Can I go to the bathroom?” she asked him quietly as they passed one. He paused and looked from her to the door. “I won’t run away. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Go on,” he answered lightly while releasing his hold on her.

Before he could change his mind, Princess rushed into the bathroom. She did not have to use the restroom, but the urge to vomit had returned. This time, she did not have the ability to keep it down. Once she had walked through the bathroom door, she ran to a stall and ejected the invisible contents in her stomach.

It took the better part of five minutes before the dry heaves stopped. She laid her head on the cold porcelain and closed her eyes. The lump in her throat returned. This time she allowed the tears to freely flow. There was no one around to see or hear her. She could cry in peace.

Several minutes passed before a light tapping came from outside the stall she was in. Sniffling, Princess wiped the tears from her face and stood up. She opened the door revealing who had been knocking. It was the same woman that had been processing her before. She had naturally tanned skin and dark eyes, obviously Latino. “Are you alright?” she asked Princess.

“I’m fine. Just felt a little sick is all. Excuse me,” she said as she brushed past the woman. Walking to the sink, she turned on the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She used her hands to dry off her face.

“People don’t cry just because they feel a little sick. So, what’s wrong?”

“Just leave me alone,” Princess commanded harshly as she left the room.

As soon as she was out the door, Gordon greeted her by gripping her elbow tightly once again. He led her around the station and into a room that had a single table and two chairs, one on either side of it. Two way mirrors were lined on the walls. Princess knew what kind of room she was now in. She had seen plenty of cop films, when she was lucky enough to go to the movies with Croc, with them in it. It was an interrogation room. Where cops took people to question them about various crimes. What she did not understand was why she was there. She had done nothing wrong.

Gordon sat her in the farthest chair and took the one across from her. “Why am I here? In this room, I mean?”

“I have just a few questions for you. Then, you can make your phone call and go home,” he informed her.

Going home sounded wonderful at that moment. So she decided to speed things along. “Okay, what do you want to ask me?”

“Where did you get this?” Gordon asked holding up the playing card.

“A customer gave it to me, along with the jacket. He said his name was Joker.” No point in lying. If she lied, she would just have to stay there longer. Exhausted, she wanted anything but that.

“What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. The Narrows lost power and I didn’t see him.” Princess touched either side of her face with her fingertips. “I do know that he had scars on his cheeks. That’s just about all I can tell you.”

“So, you have no idea who the man is?”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, I don’t. It was my first time meeting him.”

“Don’t you watch the news?”

“I’m not allowed to have a t.v.”

Gordon looked taken aback. He had never heard that one before. Who would have the authority to stop her from getting a television? “He’s robbed a stream of banks. Always leaves a similar playing card at the scene.”

“I really don’t know anythin’ about it.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his head. She was telling the truth, that much he could tell. The girl looked vaguely familiar to him, but he could not put his finger on it. Where could he have seen her before? She had never been arrested, that would have turned up as soon as her fingerprints were run. Nothing had come up, so how did he know her face? “How old are you?” The question left his lips before he had any time to even think about it. The question of her age had been bothering him since he had first seen her walk through the station doors.

“Nineteen. I’ll be twenty in a few months.”

“How long have you been a prostitute?”

Princess bit her lip nervously before answering. “Five almost six years.”

“Why?”

“Can I just have my phone call now?” Princess did not like where the questions were headed. The topic of her life was nothing she was comfortable discussing, especially a cop.

He just nodded in response and stood from his seat. With a motion of his hand, he ordered her to follow him. She did as commanded. After a few twist and turns they reached the phones and she immediately called Croc. She explained to him in little detail, Gordon stood hovering behind her, of what had happened. He had sounded sleepy on the phone, but told her he would be there in a few minutes.

After she had hung up, Gordon led her to the main room in the station. He left her sitting in a row of chairs. Most would have been put back into the holding cells, but he did not trust the men alone with her. She was very grateful for his concern. Something about being trapped in a cage with those men frightened her, and for good reason. There was no telling what they would have done to her.

“Jessica?” a male voice called. Princess looked up. She hadn’t heard that name in years. All the people she now knew just called her Princess. Who would have known that name?

Her question was answered when a young officer stepped in front of her. Though it had been years since she had last seen him, she would never forget him. He was her brother after all. “Frankie?”

“Oh, my God, it is you,” he pulled her from her seat and hugged her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where did you go? Dad told me you ran away.”

Princess pushed him away, suddenly angry. “Is that what the bastard told you?” she spat. “That I ran away. Guess he couldn’t tell you the truth. Had to keep his image of a perfect father.”

“What are you talking about?” Frankie asked her. Frankie J she used to call him, short for Franklin Jones Jr. He was so unlike her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the spitting image of their father, where as she looked like their mother with her dark hair and gray eyes. She suddenly hated him. Hated him for looking like the bastard that had condemned her to the hell she lived in. Hated him for taking the same occupation as him. Hated him for being so stupid.

The station had suddenly grown quiet, but that went unnoticed to Princess. She did not care who heard. The anger she felt pushed away all caring. “If I had run away I would have gone to you, and you know that. No, I didn’t run away. The son of a bitch gave me to the mob! Gave me to them to work his debt! That’s what I’ve been doing for the past five years. Workin’ off a debt that keeps piling up higher and higher.”

“Jes-“

“No! I’m not Jessica anymore! I haven’t heard that name in five years. Jessica is gone! I’m Princess now! Just get away from me; I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

Frankie left then. Left her alone just like she wanted. Once he was gone, she fell back into the chair she had been previously sat in. Gordon seemingly popped out of nowhere and held out her jacket to her, she snatched it away and held it to her chest. There was pity in his eyes, but he said nothing about what had just happened. Just informed her that her ride was there. She nodded and let him lead her to Croc.

Princess put on the jacket and pulled it tightly to her as if seeking comfort from the thin material. Feeling numb, she did not even notice when Croc started to lead her to his truck, holding her close to him. Automatically, her arms wrapped around as much of his bulk as they could, her face buried in his side.

Never did she let the man go. Not even while he was driving them home. She clung to him desperately afraid to lose the only person that gave a damn about her. He whispered soothing words to her though he knew that she was not hearing them. Just the sound of his gravelly voice gave her the comfort that she needed. The feel of his rough hand rubbing her arm and her hair was more soothing than the words that he spoke.

By the time they made it home, dawn was breaking and the city was gray. Sometime during the ride Princess had fallen asleep and Croc had to carry her up the several flights of steps to their apartment. It was an easy task for him. Princess weight resembled that of a feather to him. She was so small that he could nearly carry her in one arm.

When he passed her door, Selina popped her head out the door and inquired to Princess’ well being. Croc shook his head giving her the answer she did not want to hear. She sighed and went back into her apartment next door to the one he and Princess shared.
He managed to open the door one handed and closed it with his foot. Traveling only a few feet, he gently laid her on the bed on top of the covers. She stirred and then rolled over. Trying hard not to wake her, Croc took off her boots. It was no easy task. Every time he touched her she would roll over, but he managed and they were now lying on the floor next to the bed.

He walked to the table that was just a few steps away and sat at the table. The apartment was very small. The kitchen, bedroom, and living room were all in the same room. The only room that had a door separating it from everything else was the bathroom. It was small and cramped, hardly any of their stuff fit in it, but it was all they had. With the money he made, Croc could easily afford to get them a bigger place, but Princess did not want to leave Selina. The woman was like a sister to her and had been her neighbor for the past five years. Leaving her would be hard on Princess.

Leaning forward, Croc grabbed the joint that he had been smoking before he had gone to bed, before Princess had called him. By the sound of her voice, he knew that there was more that happened than what she had told him over the phone. He did not press the matter. If she wanted to talk about it, she would tell him later. Most likely she would not. She did not tell him much. It hurt him, but he knew she had the best intentions. She did not want him to do something stupid and get himself locked up again.

Lighting the partial smoked white object, he inhaled deeply. He held it in until his lungs started to burn and then exhaled. Small dainty hands were placed on his shoulders. Leaning his head back, he spotted Princess. She smiled down at him, her eyes still red and puffy from crying earlier. “I thought we were out,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Got some more.” He studied her for a moment. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She shook her head. “No, I’d rather not think about it right now. Maybe later,” she offered.

He handed her the joint. She took it and moved herself to where she was standing next to him instead of behind. Croc’s arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her close to his side. She took a hit off of the burning object, rubbing his rough bald head with her free hand. When her lungs were filled she stopped. She leaned his head back and with her mouth barely an inch above his, blew a thin line of smoke into Croc’s mouth who inhaled it greedily.

With all the smoke gone from her and into him, she kissed him. It was a small game they played. See how long Croc could hold in the smoke before he broke the kiss to breathe. The kiss lasted for over a minute before he could no longer hold it in. He exhaled sharply after they parted. While he exhaled, she replaced the joint in the ashtray, and then quickly returned to his lips.

Princess slid into his lap, pressing her body as close to his as she could. Croc’s lips were dry, rough, and scaly, but she liked them. Liked the feel of them against her soft skin. Liked the way that they scrap across her skin as he went from her lips to her neck. He nipped at her neck softly so not to leave any marks. The only marks Princess was allotted to have were bruises. She was going to get in trouble from the bit mark that Joker had left her, but she did not mind. It would be worth it. The pleasure she had gotten from the man was worth whatever punishment she received.

Princess took off the purple jacket that had been keeping her warm. She shivered in the cold, and it was made worse when Croc took off her shirt. In return, she tugged off his. When her lips came into contact with his chest, he shivered. She bit, licked, and kissed her way up to his neck, then proceeded to attack his earlobe. What little nails he had scrapped across her back and a small moan escaped her lips.

With one arm, Croc lifted Princess up pushing her against his chest. Her mouth left his earlobe and replaced them on his lips. Their tongues danced together as he fumbled with his zipper. Once that feat had been accomplished, he placed both hands on her hips. Managing not to break the kiss, he gently lowered her onto him. As he was pushed inside her, she whimpered the sound muffled by his lips. Croc was not a small man and Princess was a small woman, this combination left it rather painful for her in the beginning.

After a few moments, giving her time to adjust to his size, Croc broke the kiss. “Are you ready?” She nodded, not finding the ability to speak. Achingly slow, he raised and lowered her repeatedly.

Princess whimpered and moaned, biting her lip to keep quiet. The walls of the apartment were as thin as papier-mâché and some of the neighbors complained when she got too loud. It was rather embarrassing for her, especially when Selina teased her about it.

Croc growled and lifted her off of him. “Get on the bed,” he commanded her. She obeyed, stumbling like a drunkard. Before she laid herself on the bed, she took off her skirt tired of the squeezing material.

Princess fell onto the bed panting, waiting for Croc. When he finally made it to the bed, he forced her on all fours. Gripping her hips tightly, he forced himself inside her and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

He thrust himself in and out of her hard and deep. She felt herself quickly climb to a climax. Before she could even think of holding it in, it came. She buried her face into the sheet and clawed at it, to keep herself from screaming. Croc’s nails dug into the tender flesh on her hips as he reached his peak, and thrust himself deeply into her one last time.

Exhausted, he pulled out of her and collapsed onto the bed. She followed suit and cuddled into his massive chest. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close. “I love you, Princess.”

A sob escaped her. “I know ya do, baby. I know. I wish ya didn’t.”

Croc sighed. It was the same response he got every time he proclaimed his love for her. He knew Princess could never love him. He didn’t believe anyone could. Who could love a hideous freak like him? Children had ran and screamed at the sight of him. Though he did not show it, it hurt him deeply when that happened.

Princess always told him to find someone else, but there was no one else for him. Just her. She was the only one that could find the ability to overlook his appearance. He loved her deeply. So deeply it pained him. Sadly, she could not find it in herself to love him back. He told her how he felt never expecting her to say the same. But it would be nice to hear those three words pass through her beautifully kind lips for once.

He gazed down at her and saw that she was asleep. She had had a hard day and was extremely tired. He pulled the cover, the bed was never made and it lay randomly on the bed, on top of them and closed his eyes. It would be a few hours before he had to get up and go and sleep was the easiest way to pass time. Only seconds passed before he slipped into the blissful darkness of sleep.

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End of the chapter. I hope you all found it enjoyable. Let me know if you did or did not. I would love to hear any feedback, good or bad, from you guys. Rate and review! Thank you!