Wanted

by Kym Brunner

  She narrows her eyes. “Push me out of the truck? Wow, Clyde. I was only teasing.”

  And still she backtalks me? I stare at her, wondering if I lost my touch, or if women today say whatever they want. “You do know I killed twelve men, right?”

  Talk about passive-aggressive. Yes, Clyde, I do know. So are you saying you’ll kill me if I tease you again?” She stares at me, waiting for an answer instead of backing down.

  I never seen a woman so forthright and headstrong. Looks like I need to come up with a threat that’ll make Twinkle mind her mouth, to make her fear me properly, since reminding her I’m a killer didn’t do it. Then I come up with the perfect solution—a lie so powerful that it’ll make her skinny knees knock together and keep that brazen tongue at bay. “Something just occurred to me, Twinkle. Something so important that you oughta pay heed.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see her turn my way. “Oh yeah, what?”

  I give her my meanest son-of-a-bitch stare, no smile on my face, silence. I wait until she’s squirming in her seat, eagerly fretting to hear what I got to say. “No matter what you say, I know Bonnie’s inside of you, waiting for the deadline same as me. And you might think that will keep you safe, but you’re wrong. Because though I once loved Bonnie, I’m sure I can get another gal to keep my bed warm. So you ought to know that if you keep on sassing me, I would just as soon kill you as keep you. I’m good with a tire iron and I ain’t afraid to use it. Even if you are the prettiest thing I ever seen.”

  I turn my head toward the window so she can’t see the grin on my face.

  For once, Twinkle ain’t got nothing to say. Glad to see she’s finally minding her manners.

  CHAPTER 21

  Sunday, May 22nd // 8:58 P.M.

  Monroe

  After Clyde threatened to kill me if I sassed him again, I shrink down in my seat and stare out the window at the setting sun flickering at me between rows of trees, staying silent. What an ass! Is this how he always was? If he doesn’t like someone, he threatens to kill them?

  Oh, please. He was only saying that to make you stop talking.

  Didn’t seem like it to me.

  He hates quibbling more than anything. He’s actually quite a peace-loving fella.

  Right.

  I take a deep breath, leaning back on the headrest, trying to make sense of everything Clyde said. He thinks he’s the master of the game, but I’m no idiot. My mom used to say that when people are angry, there’s an ounce of truth along with a pound of snake venom in their argument. But what part of Clyde’s tirade was truth and what part was snake venom? I think of my mom then. Stay with me, Mom. I need you today more than ever. A strong breeze makes the truck shake from side-to-side as Clyde grabs the wheel with two hands. Thanks for the signal, Mom. I knew you wouldn’t leave me.

  I get back to thinking about what Clyde said. If Clyde actually did love Bonnie, how could he talk about replacing her so easily? Is there a chance that he just kept her around because she followed him like a lovesick puppy and had sex with him whenever he wanted? I mean, how many girls would go for a life running from the cops? Makes me wonder about Bonnie’s final request. Together forever? It sure doesn’t sound like that was Clyde’s last wish.

  How dare you! Clyde’s not going to tell you nothing. He’s too smart for that. He loved me as much as I loved him. True, not many gals would go on the lam with their men, but it proves I loved him most of all.

  I grip the armrest. Having Bonnie know every thought of mine sucks! She’s probably right though. Why would Clyde tell me anything? He’s manipulating me the same way I’m manipulating him. Everyone knows Bonnie and Clyde’s romance is right up there with Romeo and Juliet’s. You can see it in all the newspaper clippings—Clyde holding Bonnie in his arms, Bonnie playfully posing with a shotgun at Clyde’s chest, all her romantic poems about him. Unless…

  I stop reminiscing and start replaying exactly what he said.

  Every time I said “Clydehopper,” he got more and more angry. Could thinking of Bonnie cause him to relax so much that it allows Jack to take over? Bonnie did say Clyde’s weakness was sex. Maybe when Clyde thinks about Bonnie, Jack can take over. I bet that’s why he wanted me to shut up—because the lights were flashing and Jack was trying to take back his own body!

  You’re woolgathering, girl. Talking nonsense.

  I grin. Sounds like my theory has Bonnie worried. I can’t test it now, but as soon as Clyde cools down again, I will. Or should I say as soon as Clydehopper cools down? I search my hair for split ends, thinking about what else Clyde said. He told me he could just as easily kill me as keep me. Was he serious, or was he trying to bulldoze his way into making me do what he wants by threatening me? Anger runs up my spine and lodges in my throat, simmering, building up, until finally I can’t take it anymore.

  “Just so you know, Clyde, if you did kill me with a tire iron, they’d sentence you to die by the electric chair. We have high-voltage chairs that’ll fry your brains in an instant these days.”

  Instead of being scared, he roars with laughter. “You are one funny gal, Twinkle.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “I ain’t gonna kill you—I mean, not unless you try and kill me first.” He pauses. “You ain’t planning to rid the world of me and your sissified girlfriend, Jackie Daniel, in one fell swoop now are you?” He smiles, teasing me.

  I bite my lip, trying not to laugh at Clyde’s assessment of Jack. “No, Clyde, I’m not going to kill either of you. I might like to strangle you, though.”

  “Good. Sounds like a game we could play together.” He winks, like that’s the end of the story. I want to believe that he won’t hurt me, but I’m not gullible. He’s killed twelve men to my zero, so to be safe, I’m not saying anything else to piss him off. It’s crazy but it almost feels like I can trust Clyde when he’s probably the least trustworthy guy around, while the opposite is true of Jack. Thinking of bringing Jack back makes my stomach do a flip. What will I do if he comes back and wants to turn himself in again? Threatening him won’t work twice.

  “Just so you know,” Clyde says, imitating me, “we had them same frying pans back in the thirties. Nasty things. Nothing worse than the smell of burning flesh in the morning—stunk up the whole prison for a week. Made it hard to eat.”

  Grimacing at the thought, I cross my arms over my chest. “Gross. But I’m glad you’re afraid of it. You don’t want to end up as the breakfast special of the day now, do you, Cowardly Clyde?”

  His light-hearted expression darkens. “You’re crossing the line again with that name, too. I ain’t a good person, that’s true. I’m a cheater, a gambler, a killer, and a thief, but there’s two things I ain’t—a liar or a coward. And no one who knew me would say different.”

  What am I supposed to say to that—good job, Clyde, you’re well-rounded?

  You ain’t never been in our shoes, sister. Living in filth and starving to death made everyone thieves. Clyde tried to make an honest living, but there wasn’t none to be had. He’s not lying about being brave, neither. Clyde was the first one in and the last one out on all our bank jobs. Once he took a bullet in the leg trying to stall the coppers because I was hobbling so slow. And he always drove the getaway car. Mostly because he was so good at it, but also so the rest of us could lie down low.

  Clyde glances at me. “Well? What you got to say about that?”

  Bonnie’s testimonial makes me queasy. It just doesn’t jibe. Everyone knows that Clyde was a monster who killed a bunch of cops and innocent people, not an overprotective guy who worried about everyone. “I’m not sure what to say. I get it that the Depression sucked and you and Bonnie wanted a better life, but why’d you kill people? How could you look someone in the eye and shoot them? I mean, I feel sad when one of my goldfish dies. That’s nothing compared to a human.” I shiver, rubbing my arms to get the creepy feeling off of me.

  He throws his hands up, shifting higher in his seat. He looks over his shoulder and floors it past t
hree cars. “I didn’t want to kill no one neither! I only did it when they was reaching for their gun. When it was going to be me or them.” He purses his lips, shakes his head as if he’s thinking of things in his head. “Always hated it too. Got to be such a mess. But after a couple of bad turns, I realized there wasn’t no way out of it without me and Bonnie ending up dead.”

  Oh, Clyde! I miss you, baby!

  A sense of déjà vu rolls through me. “I get it that one bad thing leads to another. That’s exactly how I got myself in trouble. But wasn’t there a time, like after your first time in prison, that you thought about going straight and not doing more crimes? I mean, that’s where I am right now. Well, where I was.” I think about losing my NYU scholarship and my chest gets heavy. I close my eyes and pinch my thighs, willing that horrible ache to go away so I don’t cry.

  “So you see what I mean then? Sometimes things don’t work out the way you want!” He grips the wheel until his knuckles turn white. “You really don’t know a damn thing ’bout prison, do you? They are filthy, lawless places that make decent men turn into rabid dogs. I knew if I got caught again, I’d have to kill more cops to avoid going back. More killing—that was what I was running from. If hating prison makes me a coward, then so be it.”

  I shrug. “You killed people so you wouldn’t have to kill? You’re not making any sense.”

  He stares at me, his golden brown eyes searching out mine. He sighs, shaking his head. “I killed ’em, but I didn’t want to, don’t you see? Because I couldn’t go back in. Ever. While I was there, things happened to me that no man should ever—” He stops talking, clenching his mouth shut, as if physically forcing himself to stop. “And I was only sixteen!”

  He doesn’t need to tell me the rest. I can fill in the blanks myself, if all the horrible prison stories I’ve heard about are true. “I’m sorry, Clyde. You want to talk about it?”

  He breathes in and out loudly through his nose, his mouth tight. “No, woman, I don’t! There are some things I never want to speak about again.” He accelerates and changes lanes, darting around cars, left and right.

  I check to make sure my seat belt is tight. “You can chill out, Clyde. There are plenty of things I don’t want to talk about either. Just ask me next time. You don’t have to yell.”

  Hush, girl! Don’t press no further. Clyde’s sister told me that he came out of prison a changed man. Harder, never smiling. He never told me much about those days and I didn’t ask.

  That surprises me. Maybe they weren’t as close as everyone thinks. I mean, if my boyfriend had a terrible secret that made him so sad and angry, I don’t think we could keep dating until he shared it with me, let me help him get through it. Scratching a mosquito bite behind my knee, I try to think of something that’ll lighten the mood. “So… did you date a lot of girls when you were younger?”

  “It ain’t polite to talk about other girls when you’re with one.” He smiles, glancing my way. “I’d much rather talk about you, Twinkle. The things you’ve told me so far makes me think we’ve been cut from the same cloth. We’re more alike than not—you feel it, too?”

  Our similarities had crossed my mind, but the fact that Clyde Barrow noticed them too worries me. I force myself to laugh, deciding to take advantage of his mood swing. “Maybe a little. But hey, I was wondering if I can ask you a favor.” I shift my legs to get comfortable, making sure my limbs aren’t anywhere close to his.

  “A favor?” He lifts one eyebrow, a smirk on the edges of his lips. “You need me to find a quiet spot off on the side of the road so we can neck awhile?” He grins at me. “I remember how nice it was kissing you on the bus, before you realized what you was doing. You sure rev my engine. Go on. Admit that you liked it too. I heard you moan.”

  Wait. Who is he talking to?

  A pleasurable reminder jolts through my system at the memory of his soft kisses on my neck. Of course, I can never admit that out loud or I think he really would pull over. “It was more like a grumble. I don’t like being touched, remember?”

  He lets out another belly laugh. “You ain’t still thinking I believe you have a phobia, are you? When are you gonna realize you can’t hide things from me, Twinkle?”

  His words are like a fist to my gut. How can he know? “What are you talking about?”

  “I know when I touch you, Bonnie can talk. There ain’t no phobia. You can deny it all you want, but I could see it in your eyes, and hear it in the way you lost your breath, that you liked when I kissed you. If you let your guard down awhile and stop pretending you hate me, I promise that, after an hour with me, you’d be begging for more.” He grins widely. “How ’bout it?”

  I roll my eyes, laughing at his bravado. “Please. Make me beg for more?”

  “Please make you beg for more? Like right now?” he asks, his voice deep and sexy. He gives me a sideways grin. “My pleasure. A girl as fine as you don’t have to ask me twice. Let’s pull off here and I’ll take care of all your needs right quick.” He swerves into the right lane. “I can make up for lost time with my driving.”

  He’s only ribbing you. Don’t you believe a word of it.

  My heart rate leaps into high gear. “That’s not the favor I was going to ask for and you know it.”

  He snaps his fingers, faking disappointment. “Too bad. But hopefully when all is said and done, we will have us some free time on our hands. But until then, what favor was you wanting?”

  “Since we’ve got a long ride ahead of us and things are scary enough as is, can we both just agree to be ourselves? I’ll quit lying to you and you can quit threatening me.” I quickly add, “And maybe you can quit talking about us being a couple too. Deal?”

  He wasn’t talking about you and him! He meant me, you dumb Dora!

  He rubs his chin, as if thinking. “I can agree to stop threatening you.” He smiles.

  I ignore his purposeful avoidance of my last request, deciding to change the topic altogether. “Great. So in the spirit of honesty and having a fresh start, can you tell me about…” I pause, desperate to find a topic that won’t lead to more romance talk. “Oh, I don’t know, the first time you robbed a bank? How did you do it?” I can’t believe I just asked Clyde Barrow that. As if he’s going to tell me. Think before you speak, Monroe.

  He eyes me sideways. “Sure—as soon as you tell me why you threatened Jack Daniel with the wrench. You two get in a rift about something, or did you miss me?”

  He turns the radio lower and I realize he’s fishing for clues. If I spill some information, maybe he’ll trust me and share something he knows in return. “Actually, a little of both,” I joke, but realize it’s partially true. Jack’s constant whining made me even more anxious than I already was. “But mostly because Jack was about to turn us in to the police and I didn’t want him to.” I leave off the part about Jack’s belief that deadline meant the end of Bonnie and Clyde. If Clyde thought he’d be a goner in the morning, I bet his agenda for today would be radically different.

  “Without even trying to escape? What a sissy.” He tilts the rearview mirror and looks at himself. “Ugly too. Would probably get me five years just for that.”

  I smile. “Ha! Jack’s good-looking and you know it. And he doesn’t have monkey ears like someone else I know.”

  “How’d you know that?” He looks confused. “You seen pictures of me?”

  I don’t dare mention the mind movies. “I’ve seen lots of pictures of you and Bonnie. Movies, too. The Bonnie and Clyde movie was my mom’s favorite.”

  I love the picture show! My mama would be so proud!

  Proud you were an outlaw who killed and robbed people? I don’t think so.

  Clyde’s eyes get wide. “A movie? Now don’t that beat all?” He lets out such a loud, boisterous laugh, that I can’t help but laugh too. “Sounds like your ma was pretty taken with me, huh, Twinkle? Maybe you’re taking after her, trying to find out my life story and all.” He chuckles long and hard. “I sure would like
to see that movie sometime. If it’s you and me after the deadline, maybe I can accompany you to the picture show. How about it, Miss Twinkle? May I take you for a night on the town? I’m hoping that you have such a nice time, you’ll consider giving me a kiss goodnight.” He smiles at me then, genuine and sweet.

  He’s only saying that because he knows it’ll be me using your body.

  She’s probably right. He’s definitely a charmer, a guy who knows that flattery wins a girl’s heart every time. And stupidly, I keep falling into his trap. As long as I remember this is all a game, I’ll be fine. “I’d go with you, but I doubt you’d like the movie. They made you… never mind.” I wince, wishing I could learn to keep my thoughts to myself for once.

  “Made me what?”

  “Nothing.” I smile dismissively. “Forget it.”

  “I thought you said we was gonna be honest with each other. I want to know.”

  I close my eyes, rubbing them. “Oh, God. Now don’t get mad at me—I’m only the messenger.”

  “Say it already, girl!”

  “Okay, okay. They made it seem like you were…” I take a deep breath, wanting to break it to him gently. “Impotent.”

  “What’s that mean—weak? Dumb? Mean? Tell me.”

  Could this be more awkward? “No. It means you can’t get it up in bed.”

  “Whaaat!?” His face contorts, like he’s panic-stricken, before he busts out laughing. “They finally tell my life story, and they lie about the one thing I’m best at? I can’t think of nothing lower to do to a man than lying about his manhood. That’s Hollywood for you, I guess.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Say, does that movie show anything about, you know, me killing some deputies on Easter Sunday in Grapevine, Texas?”

  The name of the town makes the words “Grapevine Killings” jump out at me. I remember Jack saying it was a turning point, but I can’t remember why. “I’ve seen the movie a bunch of times, but not since my mom died. What happened again?”