You can’t comprehend what to feel. If you should feel safe with the psychotic woman you’re handcuffed to, or if you should be worrying for your life.

Currently, Harley’s dragging you along as she pushes the shopping cart through the fairly empty store, dumping anything and everything into it since she’s not gonna pay.

Harley studies you in the corner of her eye, debating whether to hand you over to whoever put a bounty on your head, or keep you safe as you’ve oddly grown on her.

She pops the bubblegum in her mouth before grinning. “Ya know, you’re fairly calm for the situation you’re in. Makes me think you’re one of those hot sociopaths.”