》The Ugliest Trait (Bat Boys • Reader)《

2: A Night To Remember (pt 2)

Warnings: drugs, smoking, drinking, swearing

I'm sorry that this is late. I still do plan on updating every Friday or Saturday. Also, this is gonna go kinda fast since I'm trying to hop right into the good stuff that came from the original The Ugliest Trait

Word count: about 2430

Chapter 2: A Night To Remember part 2/3

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  . . . . . . . . . . . 

"Ugh, traffic is terrible," your mother groaned as she was forced to listen to all of the profanities and horn honking just beyond the car's windows. Her fingers tightened and twitched around the steering wheel when she thought about all this trouble she had to go to just to retrieve your father. "Mommy is definitely going to kick your daddy's ass! Yes she is!" she sung bittersweetly to you, though you couldn't even see her face.

You were strapped into your carrier facing the backseat since any other way would be a threat to your wellbeing. You hadn't even heard what she had been saying to you since you were far too busy watching a silhouette in the shape of a hand reach out for your little foot. The shadowy limb failed to do so as you grabbed your feet and made an attempt to fit your toes in your mouth. Instead of trying again, it clawed at the leather seat and allowed a thick black substance to ooze from the newly made opening.

Completely oblivious to the horrific scene occurring just behind her, your mother honked the horn at a silver 1998 Porsche Boxster with tinted windows. The luxury vehicle only honked back, the driver clearly believed that they were in the right. She snarled some nasty words and sped up to cut around another car, just to end up side by side with whatever rich asshole drive the Porsche. She rolled down the window and screamed profanities at the silver car until the light turned green.

~

"There is nothing more melodious to my ears than a woman's screams." Bruce's voice was flat and just dripping with sarcasm. Alfred chuckled from his spot in the Porsche's driver's seat and watched with amusement as the woman flipped them off one last time before driving off at the speed of light. His smile faltered just a bit when he saw her Baby On Board sticker just in the back window.  "Unfit parent," he criticized scornfully.

Bruce planted his cheek on his balled up fist as he stared at her car's license plate. "Could call her in later," he said in an indistinct manner.

"I'm sure she's just had a bad day-- though she really shouldn't be driving like that with a child in the vehicle."

"Mm," Bruce hummed, nodding his head for no specific reason. His eyes wandered back out of the dark window to see the streetlights go by in a blur. It was already around 9 o'clock, long after the time that Alfred told the guests to arrive to one of the biggest clubs in the city: Charolette's. It was often booked for galas, balls, huge quinceañeras, sweet sixteen parties, etc. And it was all run by a widow and her teenage daughter.

"Hey, Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"Don't you feel like tonight is going to be big?"

The older man puffed his chest out with a bit of pride. "I sure hope so. I've spent plenty of time preparing this since it was obvious you didn't care about your birthday this year..." He gave Bruce a pointed look. "And the last, and the year before that."

Bruce shook his head, shifting in his seat to get comfortable again. "No, no, I mean... things have been sailing a bit too smoothly. I just, have a gut feeling that things will crash and burn; And it's going to be one hell of a crash."