"A man was shot and killed yesterday during a Chicago bank robbery," the announcer said on the television.
James, who was sitting on the hotel bed eating a piece of pizza, gasped. The piece of pizza fell onto the plate and he quickly stood up. "KATE!" he yelled, opening the bathroom door and barging in on her shower.
She turned around, quickly covering herself out of instinct. "What the fuck, James?" she snapped, turning off the water and reaching for a towel. Wrapping the towel around herself, she stepped out of the shower. "What the fuck did I do now that you are calling me Kate?" she asked, looking up at him.
"You killed a man, Freckles," he said quietly.
Kate stared at him in disbelief. "Yes, I know I did, James, but that was a couple of years ago and I told you-"
"No," he interrupted. "You killed a man during the robbery."
"What?" she asked.
James nodded. "The cop that was sitting out by the back door. The one that you shot at. You actually shot him and you killed him, Kate. You promised me that nobody would get hurt when we first started this but you killed him," he explained, looking down at her, disappointment in his eyes.
She looked down at the ground, not being able to look at him. "James, I didn't mean to. I swear to God I didn't mean to kill him," she said.
"Well then why did you shoot at him?" James snapped.
"Because I was scared! He was shooting at us and the one bullet almost hit you. It almost hit you. I couldn't lose you. I shot back in self-defense."
James chuckled harshly. "Self-defense," he said, still laughing. "Freckles, I know that's why you did it, but don't you hear how ridiculous that is going to sound to the cops, to a judge? 'Uh, yeah, we robbed a bank and a cop was shooting at us so I shot back in self-defense.' Freckles, they are gonna laugh at us. They are gonna laugh at you," he said softly, cupping her face in his hands. "I love you, I really do. But we had a promise and you broke it and now you are gonna get in trouble for robbery and murder and I am going to get in trouble for robbery. We're done for, Mrs. Ford."
Kate frowned and then walked past James into the bedroom. She turned off the television, which James had left on and started to change.
James walked into the bedroom after her and watched her. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Well, we need to get going, don't we? We're now gonna be on the run."
"Freckles, they still don't have our descriptions."
"James, are you stupid?" she exclaimed, throwing her wet towel on the bed. "Yes they do! We worked there! We left the manager alive and Boone, who was the one that pressed the alarm. They know who we are! We have to get out of here."
"Then what do you suggest that we do?" James asked, starting to panic. She was right. Her little slip up was going to cost them everything.
"We drive. We get a new car and we drive as afar away as we can. Maybe see if we can sneak out of the country."
"How do you expect us to get a new car?" he asked. "You are saying that we are wanted which means they have our sketches out and people are going to be looking for us. How are we supposed to get a new car?"
"We steal another one," Kate replied simply, throwing her clothes in a bag. She did the same thing with James' clothes and then looked at him. "C'mon, let's go. I'll drive."
James couldn't do anything else so he just followed her. "Are you sure you know what you are doing right now, Freckles?" he asked apprehensively.
She nodded, opening the trunk of the stolen car. She threw the bags in, shut the trunk, and then got in on the driver's side. James got in on the passenger's side and she sped off. "Yes, I know what I am doing," she assured him, getting on the highway to head south.
"How do you know what to do then?" he asked her, relaxing his feet on the dashboard.
Kate did not reply. She kept her eyes focused on the road, not answering his question.
After a few minutes, James became a mixture of annoyed and worried. "Freckles, how do you know how to do all of this?" he asked.
"I told you I was bad. You knew that. That man…I was scared," she whispered.
"What man? The cop? Yeah, baby, I know you were scared but-"
"Not that man. The man in St. Louis. When I was in the carnival. He tried to come onto me. I was 17. I got scared. I shot him. I killed him," Kate said. She said it with a straight face, with no emotion.
James looked over at her and his jaw dropped. He was married to a killer? Okay he knew that she had killed a man but she had told him it was an accident before this. But now that he realized he was married to someone who killed someone else intentionally…James couldn't wrap his mind around that fact. "You lied?" he said.
"I got scared when he came onto me. I heard stories for Juliet. From the other girls in the carnival. About guys coming onto them, about guys forcing themselves on the girl…about the men forcing them to have sex. I didn't want that to happen to me. It was self-defense, James, I swear. I shoot when I am scared…I kill when I am scared."
James stared at Kate and then looked out of the window, silent.
Kate drove on, not pestering him until about twenty minutes later. "James?" she asked softly. "James, are you mad at me? Are you upset? Do you not love me anymore?"
He turned and looked at her, sighing. "I love you, Kate. I will always love you. I just cannot believe you lied to me. I will protect you no matter what, but that doesn't mean I am saying that what you did when you were 17 or what you did now was right. I will love you and protect you and support you but you messed up. And I dunno how to look at you now. I married a killer."
"James," she said, looking over at him. Tears were racing down her cheeks.
He looked back at her. Her crying always tore him apart. "Not now, Kate. Just drive."
So she drove.