In the next morning I opened my eyes and blinked against the light. I needed a few moments to realize I had slept for almost nine hours that night without having any nightmares. Vic was sleeping next to me, his arm still loosely wrapped around me. I smiled as he softly sighed in his sleep, knitted eyebrows and frowned; obviously the imaginary conversation he was making with someone in his dream wasn’t going very well. Really quietly, I carefully took his wrist and moved his arm away, so I could slip out of bed and get up. When he felt my absence, Victor ran his hand across the mattress, looking for me, still without waking up, then frowned more and murmured something like: “Give me my fuckin’ koala back, man...” I almost giggled, amused, but I didn’t want to wake him up yet, so I stayed silent and just fixed the blanket, gently covering him with it. He thankfully gripped it and hugged the corner of it, burying his face in the pillow. I watched him for a few minutes, smiling a bit, then I realized I’m probably being creepy, so, blushing a bit, I left him alone.

I shaved, this time without any accidents, the whole time thinking about him. What he did last night was very sweet, and it really helped. For the week we’ve been on the run together, now we had almost forgotten that at first we were so afraid of each other (though back then I was “the guy with the gun” and I had to play fearless); he was afraid that, well, I might shoot him, and I was afraid that he might ruin my plans, because he happened to know too much. Now this didn’t matter anymore. We had built our friendship on fear, we had based it on panic and confusion, and it was still the most solid and unbreakable friendship I had ever had. Right now, Vic was the only person I actually trusted, not completely, but still, more than the others. I was hoping he trusted me too, and I had reasons to think he did.

We almost got caught a few times the last couple of days, and he saved my ass at least twice. Most of the time, I kept being the dumbest criminal in the history of humanity and getting us both in trouble, however, Victor was always concentrated enough to save the day. He was damn good when it comes to improvising and he easily took the situation under control whenever I fucked up. It was good I had him, otherwise, if I was alone, I would have probably gotten caught long ago.

After I finished doing my usual morning bathroom activities, I went back to the bedroom, wiping the water off my face. Vic was still sleeping, gripping the blanket and making faces as the conversation in his head continued. I smiled and gently removed a lock of hair from his face. He wrinkled his nose, smiling a bit, and murmured my name softly in his sleep. I realized I was grinning like an idiot and resisted the urge to stroke his hair again, because that would be pretty awkward, especially now, when it seemed he knew I was there. He let the blanket go, finally, clumsily ran his hand through his face and rubbed his eyes, waking up. Realizing I had been staring for a bit too long, I found myself in the opposite end of the room faster than I thought I even could, and started pretending to be very busy with… something. When Vic was completely awake, he yawned and looked at me.

“…Mornin’…”, he smiled a little.

I looked up, like I was just noticing him.

“Oh, hey, good morning.”, I smiled back. “Slept well?”

“Mhm…”, another yawn followed. He stretched his arms. “…You?”

“Yup. Pretty well.”, I shrugged, then added: “Thanks to you.”

“Naaaah.”, he sat up, rubbing his eyes again. “I didn’t do…”, yawn, “…anything.”

I grinned slightly and almost giggled. Sleepy Vic was probably one of the most adorable things ever. His hair was even messier than usual, and a random lock was stubbornly falling on his face, tickling his nose and making him scratch it all the time.

“Yes, you did.”, I insisted, then I changed the subject. “…What was with the koalas?”

He blinked, and the lock attacked his face again. Annoyed, he pushed it back.

“Huh? What koalas?”

“I don’t know man, you were talking about some koalas in your sleep.”, I chuckled. “What was that about?”

Watching me, confused, his fingers absent-mindedly started playing with the edge of the blanket, trying to tie its corner in knot.

“I don’t remember that… What did I say?”, he grinned, amused.

“Just something about some fuckin’ koala, if I knew I wouldn’t ask.”, I shrugged.

“Well.”, he laughed a bit and left the poor blanket alone. “I’m sorry if I woke you up, then, I didn’t mean to.”

“No, no, you didn’t, don’t worry.”, I waved my hand, to show him it’s alright.

“Okay, good…”, he yawned once more and lied back down. “…When are we leaving?”

“I’ll go get some breakfast first, and buy the newspaper, so you have some time to get ready and stuff. The cops are far enough behind, we don’t need to hurry this morning.”

Before leaving the room, I had to put on the usual disguise, which consisted in pretty much covering as big part of my face as possible; hiding my long black hair under a hat, and my eyes – behind sunglasses. Yeah, I knew I looked weird, but places like this were full of weirdoes anyway. Being weird here was almost normal, so no one paid me much attention.

I went out in the corridor, leaving the door unlocked behind me. I wasn’t afraid that Vic might leave anymore, I was sure he wouldn’t. For a few moments I stared at the number plate on the door. It reminded me of another sign, on another door, whose owner had died a week ago, my bullet into his head… I quickly chased this thought away. I couldn’t let myself have any more flashbacks, they were painful and wouldn’t make things any better. I blinked, then quickly, but cautiously crossed the corridor, trying to look like just another tourist, entered the elevator and started going down.

This motel was slightly better than the ones we stayed in before. The paint on the walls had gone pale, but at least it was clean enough and most of the things worked properly. The elevators were new, probably recently put here. Everything else was old, but well preserved. Maybe because most of the guests were just couples, looking for a place to… enjoy each other’s company. They didn’t really have time to break anything, because, judging by some noises last night, they were too busy with… other things. However, I was glad I finally got to sleep on a mattress that didn’t feel like it was filled with rocks.

And they had normal, warm water. Not hot. Not cold. Warm.

Crossing the lobby, I remembered that yesterday I saw a diner a few minutes away from here. I could get some sandwiches and coffees for me and Vic from there. I had to find a place to get a newspaper from, too, because I needed to keep myself informed on how the investigation on us was going. Bad, I hoped.

But I was soon to find out that things were a bit worse than we imagined. Of course, and ex-wife can always make things worse…

* * *

There were only a few other people in the diner, and they barely noticed me; they just threw me an uninterested look, and then went back to eating, or talking, or whatever they did before I entered. The air inside was stuffy and somehow heavy, the rain was quietly knocking on the closed windows like a desperate stranger, scratching the glass and fighting to come inside. The TV behind the counter was on, a few guys in grey-ish sweatshirts were absent-mindedly watching soccer, while finishing their burgers. The food this diner offered didn’t seem healthy, and definitely not quite fresh, but I had to buy some – who knows when the next time we stop would be.

I leaned against the counter, trying to pick the best looking sandwich, which wasn’t easy, because all of them looked bad enough. While waiting for the waitress to pay me some attention, I stared at the TV. I couldn’t tell who was winning. Probably no one, both of the teams sucked, they were just tripping around in the grass and then accusing each other, each team was trying to convince the judge that a player from the other one pushed them. Shortly said, it was a long, boring and unfair game. I moved my look away. Next to me was standing a man in his late forties, reading the newspaper with a tired look upon his face. By the state of his face (obviously hadn’t shaved for a day or two) and his clothes (a suit, pretty expensive), I could tell that he was some sort of a businessman, who was coming home after a meeting, somewhere far from here. I smiled a bit, proud of my deduction. When he noticed I’m watching him, the guy threw me an unfriendly glare and came back to reading, purposely ignoring me.

The waitress stopped in front of me.

“Good morning, what can I get for ya?”, she smiled, curiously watching me.

I was about to turn to her, when I spotted a title in the business guy’s newspaper, which interested me: “THE TRUE LIFE OF THE MYSTERIOUS CRIMINAL”, and bellow: “The shocked ex-wife is amazed by what’s happening, shares some personal facts”. I tilted head to read more, a bad feeling appeared deep down in my stomach.

“Sir?”

I blinked, remembering I had to order the food. The waitress was still watching me, now slightly annoyed.

“Oh, um, sorry.”, I gave her an awkward smile. “Umm… Two sandwiches… From that kind…”, I pointed. “And two coffees, one black and one latte, both long. Thanks.”

When the waitress disappeared to prepare the coffees, I turned to the guy next to me.

“Excuse me…”, I started politely. He looked up, now clearly annoyed. “Can I borrow your newspaper for a moment? I need to check something…”

The guy hesitated, watching me with his eyes narrowed, then slowly nodded.

“Okay, here.”, he handed it to me.

“Thanks.”, I nodded and smiled a little, then looked at the newspaper. It was from today.

I opened it and started looking for that title I saw. They had put it on the third page – not that important to be on the front one, but interesting enough. I read it again, to make sure it was what I thought it was… But it stayed the same - “The shocked ex-wife is amazed by what’s happening, shares some personal facts”. Damn, did Jenny…? Would she…? I bit lower lip and started reading.

“Your coffee, sir.”

Startled, I looked up and almost dropped the newspaper.

“…Oh, okay, thank you.”, I took the two coffees and the sandwiches, still holding the paper, and moved to a table so I wouldn’t stay on people’s way. Once I was alone, I continued reading, and with every next word, my face went paler and paler…

In the end of the article I must’ve looked like a ghost. I stared at the page for a few more seconds, then carefully put it down, like it could bite me, and took my mobile out of my pocket. For one horrible minute I just stood there, listening to the signal and waiting for Vic to pick up the phone. Come on, come on…

“Hello?”, finally his voice sounded. “Kellin…?”

I took a deep, slow breath. When I spoke up, my voice was serious and low.

“Vic. We need to talk. There’s something I think you’d like to see…”

* * *

I was watching Victor, who was now staring at the paper, his face unreadable. I couldn't tell if he was angry, or upset, or just confused. He was just sitting there. Staring.

However, it was obvious he had finished reading, and, unpatient to find out what he thinks, I spoke up.

"Well...?", I tilted head.

Silence.

“…Aren’t you gonna say something?”, I added.

Finally, Vic left the newspaper and looked up at me.

"What do you expect me to say? She’s a bitch. I know she’s a bitch. I've always known she is a bitch.", he shook head and raised hands in the air. “That’s it.”

I glanced down at the article.

"Is any of this true at all?"

"Do you think it is?", he raised eyebrows. "Of course it's not."

"Okay, then why would say it?”

“Why? There are about five hundred reasons why. Fame. To make herself look like a victim. To make people pity her. To get money.”, Vic shrugged. “Honestly, she’s the greediest, most selfish person I know.”

I took the newspaper back and looked at the interview again.

On the left, there was a picture of a pretty woman in her twenties, with long brown hair and big, naïve dark eyes. In her eyes, though, there were those weird… sparks. Vic’s ex didn’t look like a person you could trust, and definitely not like a person you’d like to marry. Although on this picture she was trying to look upset and innocent, she still seemed dangerous and kind of sly. She left the impression of a woman, who knew men well, and knew how to manipulate them, a predator, who liked playing with her food.

Unconsciously, I started re-reading the article. It didn’t sound better this time too, in fact, each time it seemed even worse.

“THE TRUE LIFE OF THE MYSTERIOUS CRIMINAL
The shocked ex-wife is amazed by what’s happening, shares some personal facts

Brigitte Rodriguez, ex Mrs. Fuentes, openly talked with us about her husband’s life story, revealing some really interesting facts. Miss Rodriguez at the moment lives and works in Texas, she is the owner of the Brigitte Clothing fashion house. [for more information visit www.brigitteclothing.net] Young, pretty, successful – she is definitely a woman that any man would want. Why did Victor Fuentes leave her? And who left who, actually? Why do scars still cover her otherwise perfect pale skin? She gave us an exclusive interview, answering these questions, and many more.

Interviewed by Daniel Martins.

D.M.: Miss Rodriguez, how did you react when you first heard the news about Victor?

B.R.: I was truly shocked, I couldn’t believe this is happening… I mean, I knew he was unstable and impulsive, but I never thought he’s that dangerous…

D.M.: Unstable?

B.R.: Yeah. I’ve always thought he had problems and used to tell him he should see a psychiatrist, but he didn’t want to. That caused many arguments between us both.

D.M.: So I see you didn’t get along well. Why did you get divorced? Wasn’t he a good husband?

B.R.: I guess he was trying to be, but I don’t think I could call him a good husband…

D.M.: Why not?

B.R.: As I said, he had problems. In the end, I couldn’t even talk to him, all our conversations ended up in fights.

D.M: Was he aggressive?

B.R.: Honestly, between you and me, he was. When he had drunk more than he should have, he would even hit me.

D.M.: Oh dear. Did he beat you?

B.R.: Well… Sometimes, a bit, but he didn’t hurt me much, because he didn’t want our friends to know, so he kept my face untouched. One night things went too far, though. He drank too much, and when he’s drunk, he gets really violent. I don’t remember how the fight started, but next thing I knew was that I was on the floor, and he was kicking me. He hit me harder than he usually did, and it even left me some scars. He broke my arm and a few ribs. You’re the first one to know about this, back then we told our friends it was an accident.

D.M.: I see. And that’s when you left him?

B.R.: No, I didn’t. The next day, when he was sober enough to realize what he’s done, he came to me and started apologizing, saying that he loves me and he’s sorry. I knew that wouldn’t make the bruises heal faster, but I loved him too much to let him go, so I forgave him. Since then, he tried to change and be a better man, but he’d always end up drinking again, and that would lead to more yelling and more fighting…

D.M.: I admire you for standing this for so long. When did you end it, anyway?

B.R.: A few months later I found out he was seeing someone else, one of my friends. I figured out he had been cheating on me for awhile, and perhaps not only with her. I just couldn’t take this anymore and left, finally.

D.M.: You said he used to have drinking problems. How did this start?

B.R.: I don’t really know, he wasn’t a drinker when we met, but soon after our wedding, he started drinking more and more. I think it has something to do with his parents passing away, but I don’t know exactly, he didn’t talk much about it.

D.M.: And now, aren’t you afraid that after you say this, he might come back and try to hurt you again?

B.R.: Oh, I dare him to try. I would be prepared. I know him too well, I know how to defend myself from him.

D.M.: I hope you do, I wish you luck with that.

B.R.: Thank you.

D.M.: And how about his partner, Kellin Quinn? Have you seen them together before?

B.R.: I don’t think so, but I didn’t know all of his friends. It’s possible that they might have known each other for some time now, I just don’t know about such thing.

D.M.: Have you ever thought that he might do such a serious crime? Killing people, robbing shops?

B.R.: As I said, Victor was a horrible husband, not a very good person, but he was never a criminal. I was very surprised to find out he did those things, perhaps this guy, Kellin, has a bad influence on him or something, that’s the most possible explanation. But I don’t know. Vic is a really unpredictable. I can’t tell you anything for sure.

So it seems that even if Miss Rodriguez has had bad experience with the suspect in Jeffrey Terrence’s murder, she didn’t see it coming either. Did Vic Fuentes finally have a breakdown? Did the alcohol finally manage to drive him out of control? And what does Kellin Quinn have to do with the whole situation? Who of them both is actually the mastermind of the crimes that keep occurring all over the country? What is the relationship between them both? We don’t know the answers of those questions, neither does Brigitte. But we are sure that we are yet to find out more.

Stay tuned for more news around Quinn and Fuentes, the Bonnie and Clyde of our century. What will be their next step? We shall just wait and see, and hope the police would be able to stop them soon.”

…Bullshit. Total bullshit.

I looked up at Vic. Now, when he didn’t know I’m watching him, it was obvious that he was upset. His hand was nervously playing with a lock of his hair, as his eyes were carefully observing his shoes.

“So…none of this is true? Nothing?”

He turned to me, his fingers letting his hair go. “…Yeah, none of it. I told you.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”, I tried to smile weakly. Vic didn’t smile back.

“Except that my parents passed away a few years ago, that’s true.”, he said. “That didn’t get me into drinking a lot of alcohol, though. I’ve never had drinking problems, besides, you’ve seen me drunk, I’m not aggressive at all, I’m just, I don’t know, silly and random, but never aggressive, damn, I’ve never hit a woman, and I would never do it, do I look like a person who would do something like that? Because I’m not…”

Without realizing it, he had started rapidly rambling excuses, trying to convince me. I decided that I need to stop him before he gets tangled in his own words.

“Vic, Vic, it’s okay, I believe you, calm down.”, I interrupted him. “I know you well enough to tell you’re not the kind of guy who’d cheat on his wife and beat her. It’s okay.”

“Oh… Alright… Okay, alright, okay. I’m sorry, I just… wanted to make sure.”

“I know.”, I nodded understandingly. “I get it. But I can recognize a bitch when I see her. Just check this out. ‘Young, pretty, successful – she is definitely a woman that any man would want.’, and then ‘her otherwise perfect pale skin’. This kinda sounds like it’s written by a man, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, no kidding. Probably a man, who knows her well, if ya know what I mean.”, Victor glanced at me meaningfully. “And I bet the interviewer… got to know her too.”

I raised eyebrows.

“You’re saying she fucked them both?”, I translated.

“Yup, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Wouldn’t be a big surprise. I mean, look at her. She really is pretty, and from personal experience, I know she can manipulate men well. Once she gets to their money, she ruins their lives and lets them go. You know. Like a cat that plays with the mouse, and sometimes lets it go to see how far it could run.”

I frowned.

“Damn, why would you marry a woman like her?”, I suddenly realized that sounded quite rude, so I quickly added: “I’m sorry, I mean, maybe you loved her and all, I was just, you know…”

“…curious. I know.”

Victor hesitated, probably wondering if he should change the subject or tell me something personal. I stayed silent, patiently waiting for him to decide.

“…Hmm, nope, I don’t think I loved her.”, he finally shook head. “We met in high school, around the time we graduated. She was one of those pretty girls that all guys want, not exactly smart, but definitely clever. When we started going out, I didn’t really get why she picked me… Later I found out, but it was too late. We had been together for only a month or two, when one night we went to a party, drank a lot, and on the next morning we woke up married. At first I wanted a quick, quiet divorce, but she was saying she loves me and insisted to try to live together first. I don’t know why I agreed, it was a damn stupid idea. Later I found out that she was going out with other men too, and she knew I knew, but she didn’t care, she kept doing it. Things started going really wrong from then on, about a year later, she told me she wanted a divorce.”

“Well, at least it ended.”, I tried to make the story sound more optimistic.

“No, it went worse… See, my parents were pretty rich, they owned a company in New York, we had an apartment there, a few estates in the country, boats… After they died, they left pretty much everything to me. That was the main reason why Brigitte married me in the first place. We hadn’t signed a prenup or anything, so when we got divorced, her lawyer turned out to be better than mine, and she took all those things I had inherited from my family. All of it. So I ended up working in an office, answering calls and writing shit down…”

“Dammit, man, that’s not cool at all. I’m sorry.”, I sighed, then hesitated. “…Want me to add her to the List? You know, I could, if you wanted me to…”

“What? No, no, no, no, don’t. One day, when it comes to this, I’ll add her to my own list. She’s my problem, not yours.” Vic tried to smile weakly.

“Right… But still. She made you look like an asshole and now we almost don’t have a chance to convince the police that you’re innocent.” I looked him in the eyes, serious. “I think that’s a pretty serious problem.”

“Yeah, but again, it’s not yours, it’s mine. Besides, was proving me innocent ever an option? I don’t think it was. Look what is written here: ‘Quinn and Fuentes, the Bonnie and Clyde of our century’. We’re a badass team, dude, and I know Brigitte made things more difficult, but it’s not the end of the world.”

Even though I tried to stay serious, I felt a grin stretching on my face.

“…Alright then. But you’ll be Bonnie.”, I chuckled.

“What? Nooo! No, you be Bonnie, why must I be Bonnie?!”, he frowned.

My grin widened. “Because I say so.”

“Okay then.”, Vic crossed arms stuck his tongue out at me. “I’d make a better Bonnie than you anyway.”

“Oh yeah?”, I sarcastically lifted an eyebrow. “We’ll see ‘bout that.”

He just giggled and tossed the newspaper at me, trying to hit me with it. I caught it in the air, grinning, then threw it away.

Brigitte Rodriguez could go to hell along with all her stupid lies. The Bonnie and Clyde of the century were going to California to kick a bastard ass.

END OF CHAPTER NINE.

Notes

NOTE: Vic's wife is completely fictional. Such character doesn't exist in real life.

Just saying.