Chapter 33
John had a feeling of horror unlike any kind he'd ever experienced before. Even during the breakout from Lima and the heist at American Bank & Trust in Wisconsin (where an officer went down and he almost didn't make the getaway car) had never brought a reaction out of him like this. He felt sheer and pure horror. He looked at his own face upon the newspaper page in a pose and position he knew all too well. His biggest fear had come true, pushed physically in his face. He felt a kind of unraveling dangerously happening in his body. They had to get out of there. This was not something he wanted witnesses to. Without a word, but his face contorted tight, he grabbed Billie's arm and drug the both of them from the apartment.
They stormed into the hallway and in a matter of seconds were entering John's. He locked the door behind them and flipped on a light. Billie stood in the room, shaking. When he turned toward her she lost control again and her face flushed deep. "A-aren't you going to say something?"
She was on the verge of sobbing and John could see she had been doing much of that already. His heart felt like it was punctured and bleeding, killing him slowly. There was so much to say he didn't know where to start. He didn't know what to say. She looked so wretched standing there, dripping and shivering. He took a step closer, reaching cautiously for her arm.
"Give me your coat."
She turned away from him abruptly, letting out a laugh in the form of a snort. She wasn't going to do anything he told her. He would talk. He would explain himself. She didn't have to do anything. John let her be silent and he let her shy away from him. This wasn't going to be easy. It would probably he the hardest thing he ever did. Surprised, he watched as Billie undid her own coat and handed it to him without looking at him. With the heavy thing gone she was left in a dress, water dripping from her hair and off her arms. She was still shaking and John went to her slowly, brushing his fingers against her shoulder.
As if something had bit her Billie whirled away. She stood apart from John but looked at him heatedly, her eyes large pools of pain. He felt her stare, the icy blue cutting him to the core. What had he done? How could he fix this? When he spoke his voice came out helplessly. "I was going to tell you..."
Again she laughed. "Ha! When?"
She was so angry and so hurt. John watched as these emotions overcame her, her body physically raked with them. He'd never seen her cry before. "The next time we saw one another. After the picture-"
"At the picture!" she cried incredulously.
"After the picture show," he specified what he'd already said. "I had a plan. I was going to do something for you, maybe another dinner, and then I was gonna to tell you."
"Sure. I believe you. I believe everything you say! Don't touch me!" He'd reach out again and she backed up, her voice piercing. She was standing somewhere in the kitchen and starred at him, her vision starting to blur as tears came. "You lied to me!"
"Billie..." There was nothing he could do. He couldn't ask her not to cry; he felt like doing so himself. He couldn't touch her, he couldn't do anything and that was making it harder for him.
"How can I ever trust you again? You used me- I had sex with you!" She seemed repulsed by her own words, by the realization of it all. John groaned and watched as she sunk to floor right there where she stood. She fell in a pile down on the tile floor, leaning up against the cabinets. John followed her, bending his knees and getting low to the ground. He reached out his hand and ran another one through his hair.
"Don't say you regret that, please don't say that," he was murmuring. That alone had been a huge fear to him, that she'd think their intimacy was anything else than love. "That was done out of love," he told her with a rough voice. She starred at him, still blubbering. Love?
"I was so stupid. I'm just so stupid..." she began to say as she shook her head, crystal tears lining her cheeks. John watched her, desperate.
"No, Billie, no you're not-"
"Yes I am! I bet you had a good laugh, knowing all this time that I didn't even know who you were!"
"Can I explain?"
"Explain what? What other secrets do you have?"
"None! That's it, this is it..."
She took a few breaths like she was gulping for air. "W-what a-about all those things you told me. You're married, and your mother died..."
"I was married and my mother did die! Those weren't lies."
"And did your wife know who you were? Am I the only one you tricked?"
Her eyes were staring into his as if she wished him to squirm, and he was. "She knew who I was," he replied quietly, knowing it would hurt her. "She...well, she sent me divorce papers while I was in prison."
Billie seemed appalled by what she heard, shaking her head and looking toward the ceiling. John had never felt more ashamed of himself, not only about this but everything in his whole life. "It's true, it's all true..." she whispered to herself, the impact of his real identity hitting her painfully. "You're John Dillinger."
"Yes," he replied quietly. "Everything you've heard about me is probably true."
"You rob banks. You've been to jail."
"Eight years," he confirmed.
There was silence for a short time only filled by her ragged breath. It almost sounded like she were having an attack. John didn't blame her, he just hated that he couldn't help. Although she sniffled and wiped at her face she was still crying. He wondered how long this had gone on, how much longer that it would. "Have, have you killed anyone?"
"Jesus, Billie, no!" He grunted and stood up, feeling himself wobbly and running his hand through his hair as if he would pull it out. "Is that what you think of me?"
"I don't know what to think about you!" she spat back. "How can I believe anything you say!"
"You can't, okay? Is that what you want to hear?" He suddenly became angry, pacing back and fourth across the room. Billie acted like he'd slapped her when he raised his voice. She had the right to be mad, not him. "What do you want to hear? Tell me! Is there even anything I can say? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg for you? Do you want me to cry?" he asked, and when he said the word it caught in his throat as if he had merely been holding back tears the whole time.
He fell to the floor completely this time, but it was a good distance away from her. His knees rose up and he rested against them, his head falling limply out of sight. His shoulders started to shake slightly. Billie watched him and felt herself warming. Still, she couldn't completely let herself give in to him. She wasn't finished.
"I was stupid. So stupid," she said, the words still icy though they came out calmer. "I can't believe I was unaware of so much, so many things about your life... We went too fast..."
"Things have to be fast in my life," he answered, it muffled from somewhere near his chest. All she could see was his head, dark hair dangling everywhere. "I don't have time..." and he contemplated explaining further, but that was all really. "I don't have time."
They both waited, their bodies tense, their minds a jumble. The distance of a few feet between them felt like an entire world. There was quiet. Billie still had more things to get off her chest. "Did you think it was a big treat getting a teenage girl to fall for you? That she'd be so young and stupid? You know, it's bad enough any woman can take you away from me, but knowing anybody, no matter what the-"
"What?" John cut her off, starring through small eyes. His own face was turning a different shade. "You wanna know why I want you, and nobody else? Why I picked you, regardless of your age?" She was silent. "It's because...because..." He took a deep breath and looked away again knowing the chances of her believing his next words were scarce. "I think we're meant to be together, Billie."
Neither of them talked again for some moments. Billie still felt the tears in her eyes but they weren't cascading down her cheeks like they were previously. It was still hard to believe him. It was too soon, everything was too fresh. Still, she wanted to, and desperately, and maybe that was the problem. Another wave of hurt hit her as she heard sounds from him like weeping. His shoulders moved and somewhere hidden from her view he was breathing back sobs. She watched him intently. It was the most human she had ever seen him. He was breakable. That, his tears, were what finally broke the barrier. It didn't matter that he was older, had had more life and love and whatever else than herself. This action made her realize and believe fully that very little, if anything, separated them.
"Why are you crying?" she whispered.
It took a moment before he answered. When he did it was a painful and wet sound. "Because you're leaving me. Because I love you and you're leaving me..."
Again she felt her heart twisting. In that second she made a decision- to try. She did want him and she did want it to work, whatever it was they had or would have. No matter how bad she hurt it would be figured out. She scrambled off her knees and went to him. Her hands fell on his shoulders. "I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving you," she whispered, trying to get him to face her. He was covering his face with his hands, likely blocking the tears he was ashamed of. It was clear he didn't want her to see him cry, but to her it was beautiful. That was honest.
"John," she called to him for the first time, and the sound of his name seemed to draw more tears from the man. "Johnnie, I'm not going anywhere."
He took several breaths, attempting to control himself. He dropped his hands and they fell moist at his sides. Billie tightened her grip around him. "I love you, I do," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You may think it's too soon, and I get that, but...I don't have time like a normal person does. I shouldn't have been here this long, in Indiana..." He breathed heavy as he spoke and for each word that was more difficult than the next Billie held him tighter.
"I was doing it for you. I just wanted you. I thought that...I thought that if I could make you love me, or even like me in any way, you wouldn't be so quick to...to..." He shuddered again and she saw tears on his cheek. Quickly he brought his hands up to wipe them away. Billie couldn't help her next thoughts but needed to say them. When she did so it was relaxed.
"Is that what you think of me?"
John understood what she meant despite her efforts to soften it. "How was I supposed to?" he asked honestly. "I can't trust anyone. I wanted to trust you." He took a deep breath. "You could ruin me. You think I would have taken that chance lightly?"
She let the words sink in. There was so much about his life she was unaware of. He was everything he'd said he was, but the core of him held something so different. All the facts were the same, the meaning now changed everything. He was an infamous man. The whole country knew him, everyone was looking for him, and yet with so much celebrity he was alone. He had his family, but he didn't see them often. Apparently he couldn't. If she were to believe him, she was the woman in his life. Billie tried to think of things happening a different way- suppose she had found out he was John Dillinger by Mary. Would she have ran and given him away? No. She wouldn't have. It still would have been a secret. That didn't change now.
"John," she starred at his face. "I would never tell anyone. I want you to believe me when I say that. You're safe with me."
He felt more tears coming. It felt like the tables were being switched, and he wondered if he didn't have more to lose than she did. He too wanted to believe her, but if what she said wasn't honest he would loose everything. The thing was, he did believe her. He did feel safe with her, and he wanted that feeling to be mutual. She held power over him and she wasn't using it against him.
"Look at me. Please," she murmured. For the first time he met her eyes directly. The two of them looked quite the same- disheveled. They were messy emotional wrecks. Billie reached out a hand and tucked his hair away from his face. She had a good look at him. He was at his most vulnerable and the thought had never even crossed her mind to exploit it. He looked more handsome than ever. What she was thinking about was his pain; how she wished he would never feel that way again. She leaned forward and forward until her lips met his skin. She stayed there, puckering, until his tears vanished.