Jerome Valeska Imagines

Ghost- Part 10

You walked into the house, Jerome following behind. It had been silent since your little argument in the car. You didn't understand how he could just act like nothing had changed over the last four years. Like nothing had happened.

You began to walk towards your room before Jerome stopped you. "Gorgeous, Wait!" He requested. You spun around towards him, already angry. "Stop calling me those silly nicknames, Jerome! I don't even know why you came to me for help! We aren't best friends anymore and it's obvious that we weren't meant to be best friends!"

You began to walk away again, leaving Jerome there. "You're right," he agreed, making you stop. You slowly turned to him, waiting for him to continue. He took slow steps towards you. "Maybe I shouldn't have dragged you into this. Maybe we aren't best friends anymore. Maybe we weren't meant to be best friends."

He stopped in front of you, making you have to look up to make eye contact. "But we were meant to be something. I've known that for awhile now and I'm not letting the same thing happen again. Even if it was my fault." Before you could say anything, Jerome swooped down and connected your lips.

     You froze as Jerome pulled your body against his, letting his hands roam around your body. You didn't know what to do. You couldn't just let him off like that. But it felt so good.

     You ignored your thoughts, and wrapped your arms around Jerome's neck. You kissed back, just as passionately. His tongue swept across your lip, asking for entrance. You ignored it, not giving him the satisfaction.

     You felt Jerome's hands trail from your back, down to your butt. They sat there for a second before he roughly squeezed your butt, making you gasp. He took the time to push his tongue into your mouth, exploring the inside of it.

     Suddenly, your house phone went off, causing you both to pull away. You were out of breathe, and you could feel your cheeks fluster up. You quickly picked the phone up, bringing it to your ear. "Hello?"

     "Y/N. Jerome is needed at the precinct. Now," your mom said. She sounded very stern and you knew it was urgent. "Why? What's happened?" You asked. "Bring Jerome," she said before hanging up. You hung up the phone and turned to Jerome. "They want you down at the station."

...

You walked up the steps to the GCPD with Jerome. You felt slightly nervous, but knew there was no way you could be tied to the crime. It just wasn't possible.

As soon as you and Jerome entered, you were greeted by three cops. The big one walked up and grabbed Jerome by the arm. "Come with me," he ordered in a deep voice.

"Where is he going?" You asked. The cops didn't even spare you a glance as he dragged Jerome away. You looked around and saw the two other cops were looking at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. "What?" You snapped. The cops looked at each other with a smirk before walking away.

You rolled your eyes and took a seat at a random desk. You crossed your arms and waited for Jerome. After about forty minutes, you heard a door opening. You looked up and froze at the sight.

Mason Hill was being directed out of an office by an officer. He was looking down, hiding his light brown face and dark chocolate eyes. He covered his hands with his sleeves, showing he was nervous.

     He must of felt your stare as he looked up. Your eyes connected and you felt the sudden need to vomit. He looked at you for a couple seconds before looking away. He let the cop pull him out, avoiding your stare.

     You looked to the floor as you connected the dots. The GCPD wanting to see Jerome and you, when you weren't supposed to be connected to Lila's murder at all. Mason saw you on the bridge that night. He saw you with Jerome the night his mother was murdered. And now he was here all of a sudden?

     "Y/N." You looked up and saw your mother walking towards you. You stood up and met her. "What's happening?" You asked. She sighed and looked down. "They found the murder weapon, honey. Jim thinks he knows who killed Lila," she confessed.

     Your heart sank. "Who?" You asked. She smiled sadly at you. She stayed quiet for a couple seconds, before letting her smile fall, and looking at the ground. "Mom?"

...

~Jerome's P.O.V.~

The cop led me into the interrogation room. I saw Jim sitting on the table and his little girl toy in the back. She was pretty. Her dark hair and tan skin really went together, and that blue dress!? I mean wowza! But it didn't faze me. Y/N was way prettier. Not even that, but everything about Y/N seemed better than any girl I had ever met or seen.

"Hi, Jerome," Gordon greeted. "Please, take a seat." I filled his request and sat down. "You know Mr. Cicero from the show," Gordon said as he pulled my chair out, holding it while I sat down. I looked at the old man and felt my insides burn with anger. Why was the old bag of wrinkles here? Didn't he have some idiot to rip off with his psychic abilities?

I kept up the act and went along with James. "Yes, sir. Hello, Mr. Cicero," I greeted. "Good evening, Jerome," Cicero replied while the dumb detective took a seat across from us. I looked at the lady behind him and mentally laughed at his rudeness. Making the lady stand? That's one way to get a girl, Jimbo.

Jim crossed his hands in front of him, looking between me and the living dust pile. "Do you know why you're here?" Jim asked. "Did you find out who killed my mother?" I made sure to widen my red and puffy eyes. I had forced a couple of tears in the other room, so it looked like I was actually upset.

"You killed your mother, Jerome," Jim replied almost instantly. His face was blank and he didn't move anything, but his mouth. To anybody else, it would have been intimidating, but by the sound of his voice, I could tell he was angry. Angrier than a crab.

My lips parted in shock and I leaned back. "Me?" I asked, faking shock. Of course it was me. I was the only one that had to deal with that nagging whore for years. Everybody always left. But, who needs 'em?

"You killed her up on that hill, and Mr. Cicero let you clean up in his trailer. He told you to scratch the satanist stuff in the hatchet and throw it off the bridge," Jim told. I was pleasantly surprised that he had put the whole story together in such a short amount of time. Well, except for the whole Y/N part, but that could be dealt with later. I didn't want to leave her in Gotham, but going to Arkham empty handed didn't sound so fun. It sounded boring. I hate boring.

"Sir, that's absurd and- And offensive," I said, faking hurt and becoming defensive. I should have known that the old bat wouldn't have been useful. I should've offed him, too. "But it's the truth," Jimbo countered.

"What I don't know is why this man risked so much to help you," Jim confessed. I began forcing up the tears. You never know when you're gonna need to fake your innocence. "I think he's your father."