Chapter 29
The hallway loomed dark and long. Billie stood, a single shadow in the night while the rest of the house slept. She had risen from her makeshift bed on the floor of Mary's room after she was sure the girl had been deeply asleep. She spent countless minutes listening to her breathing, the gentle rhythm of it until she started to snore. Unlike her uncle, Mary's sounds were but a raspy whisper, and something almost soothing if it were any other situation. Instead, this time it told Billie she was free to leave without being noticed.
The bedroom door creaked after her and she had winced just slightly. If anyone caught her she could easily excuse herself as slipping to the bathroom. Still, she preferred not to be seen at all. Billie had seen the black Ford pull into the drive earlier that evening before dinner. Jimmy hadn't shown up at dinner and she wondered where he had gone and taken his meal if not with the family. The truth was, John had indeed come home but he'd made it his priority to be unseen and away from Billie entirely. He couldn't bare seeing her and ignoring her; he couldn't act like she wasn't special.
She tiptoed down the hall and nervously glanced over her shoulder. She knew he was here, hidden behind one of these walls, and yet she was anxious. From inside his room John had heard the light creak of the door and was since listing to the sounds in the hallway with his ear pressed up against the wall. When the faint sounds he listened to came closer, he knew it could be nothing else. Any other footsteps in hall would belong to someone unafraid to stomp directly to their destination. These steps were light and slow.
He opened his door quickly so it would not squeak and Billie's form stood outlined in darkness. He reached for her at the same time she lunged for him, and the door shut just as smoothly behind them. There were no words. Billie crashed her mouth upon his, they kissing as a welcome greeting. It had been a foreign gesture just days before and now it was something familiar. Billie didn't need to have a light in the dark; she knew who it was she kissed. She knew his taste, the feel of his lips and face. Her hands sought after him while her eyes closed, knowing the high set of his cheekbones, the ridge of his eyebrows and his straight long nose.
Billie felt him touch her behind her knees. Knowingly, she arched and he grabbed her, hoisting her up so she rested against his hips. She wrapped her legs around him, her back being sent to the wall. There they kissed for some more moments, tongues and lips in heated movement. Soon, John supported her back with his own arm and began to walk. It was the second time he had carried her to bed. On the mattress they faced one another, their lips never parting. Slowly Billie worked her way forward to John, making it so he was pressured until the point of laying down. Their mouths still moved together, slowly, and eventually parted. When Billie sat up her legs rested aside his thighs.
"God, I missed you," John said exhaling. His hand came up to caress her cheek, lying back completely and enjoying the feel and view of her above him.
"Me too."
It had only been a matter of hours. In such a short time they felt a world of distance between them, one that was unnatural and uncomfortable. Things had escalated very quickly to the point where they were being anxious and sloppy. They didn't need any more proof than the fact that they were sneaking around another persons home, hiding from people they loved. John sighed heavily, looking into her eyes and seeping in not only the comfort she gave him but all the opposite emotions happening around them. Their hands entwined, touching and feeling, upon his middle.
He thought about the situation they had put themselves in. He was familiar with stealing and knew they were merely stealing moments together because they couldn't have them freely. Billie was something he couldn't have, but that didn't stop him. He would be dammed before anything else could prevail.
"This is tough," he said to her quietly.
Billie watched him carefully. It was true of course but it wasn't what she wanted to hear. Her shoulders arched with stress. They had few moments together but Billie could see they were going to spend it talking about tense matters. While thinking she brought his hand to her cheek, cradling it there. "Mary is worried about you."
John arched up, his eyes darkening. "What?"
She nodded, her voice coming out soft for she knew how the subject would affect him. "Yes. She told me today she was worried about you. That you've been different... She said I seemed different as well."
He sat up completely now. What he and Billie were doing was obvious to others, at least, an awareness of something different was clear. His niece was a smart girl and something amiss with her best friend or beloved uncle would not go unnoticed or unconcerned. John realized in his attempt to capture Billie he was also being a thief to his family. So many known facts, truths, plagued him; he would rather be ignorant and blissful. There was getting to be no where to hide. His real life and his secret life and all the imagined things of both were suffocating. His face went tight again, the sour mood he'd held all day returning full force.
Billie could read into the tense silence. There was no use trying to ignore the topic that haunted them both. It was their biggest hurtle. Bravely, she spoke, focusing on her own private concern. Again she shrunk into herself and whispered cryptically. "If she knew...if Mary knew, do you think she'd hate me?"
"Billie..." Instantly John cringed like he'd heard nails on a chalkboard and twisted his face away from her. He spoke as if he were scolding her. It was the first time they'd had such a conversation. He was repelling in every way from the discussion out of reasons she understood but that needed to be discussed. The reason why he hurt so much was because it was his same fear.
"Well, Jimmy-" she started directly, and then no more words were spoken as another course of visible pain crossed his face. Now it was she who flinched, the air changing between them. "What? What did I do?"
He couldn't take it. Even if he were to lie again what would he say? That he hated when she said his name? That he didn't like his name and didn't want to hear it? It was ridiculous. He could see the change in her, how his mood was effecting everyone, even she picking it up. Her vibrant eyes had turned cold. He deserved it. He leaned forward again, knowing he needed to save the moment if he possibly could. They couldn't afford for things to go downhill.
"Doll, no. You didn't do anything. Hey..."
He tried to get her attention. She had turned away, her face sullen. He touched her arms and tried to spin her back. She did not come easily and he wouldn't force her but did begin to speak. "Tell me what's wrong. You've been like this all day...since we got into the car earlier. I've never seen you like this."
He had an urge to tell her right then. He imagined his mouth moving, opening and letting out the truth. 'I'm John Dillinger,' he would say. 'The criminal. You may have heard rumors.' It appeared almost as if she were on the brink of tears; the sadness hit him to the core. This couldn't go on. It would happen. He would do it...but not now. He imagined the reaction and knew it couldn't happen then, in that room in another persons home when they weren't even supposed to be together. He imagined things being loud, emotional...she might throw things.
"I'm sorry I've been like this," he told her calmly. "Nothing is your fault. Nothin'. Okay?" He touched her cheek lightly, running his knuckles against her skin. She was beautiful, painfully so when she was upset. It was the worst kind of torture. "Listen baby. We're going to do something again real soon. Something nice. Whatever you want. You can pick."
His hand was touching her hair, smoothing back the strands from her face. Slowly she gazed to him. With each word he could see her contemplating on remaining upset or giving in. A small smile touched the corner of her lips the more he spoke. "What d'you wanna do?" he asked softly. Her eyes gazed downward, she shaking her head lightly. Her expression had softened though she couldn't come to an answer. "Think about it tonight. You can tell me tomorrow. Will that make you happy?"
She met his eyes. "I'm happy. Are you?"
He nodded. "Yes."
She wasn't so easily convinced. The few moments they had spent together were prolonging. It was getting exceedingly risky to spend this time together, though John hated to imagine he being the one to bring it up. He did so calmly but the idea was still taken harshly. Billie wondered if he was throwing her out, if he didn't want her there, and he denied all her worries. She understood she couldn't stay, couldn't even cuddle with him for fear of falling asleep, but it was hard to accept. They kissed goodbye, John reminding her to think about what she wanted to plan and tell him the next day. He told her to be calm and think of him; he couldn't go too long without her.
