Chapter 24: From 1921 to 1934

Elliot leaves with Max. I was hoping that he would stay. I decide to just go to bed. I suppose I can’t complain after what just happened to Max. Poor guy. I slip off my skirt and blouse, leaving me in just my 1920s undergarments. They’re starting to look more and more like normal underwear and bras. The silk is softer, though. I tuck myself into bed under the warm covers. I close my eyes and pray to wake up in the new year.

As I’m trying to fall asleep, the vision of a dead Elliot disturbs me.

I look around the room and try to go back to sleep. I think I finally drift off this time, but I continuously see Elliot in a pool of blood––much like he was the day he got shot. I get up this time and pace at the window.

I try to tell myself. I lay down a third time, my feet warm under the blanket. The pit in my stomach keeps me from even closing my eyes again. I decide to just go check on him––to make sure nothing bad happened. I tear the sheets off my bed and wrap them around me, too lazy to find my skirt or button my blouse. I crack my door open with a shoe fully intending on returning in seconds. I don’t even plan on waking him up. Just peek at him.

I noticed this evening that neither Belle’s door nor his door lock. I gently push open the door handle and see him standing, staring out the small window. He turns his head to look at me, immediately.

“You ok?” he mutters. I nod.

“Bad dream about you. Had to make sure you were fine. Goodnight, Elliot,” I whisper. He fully turns around from the window. I catch sight that he’s shirtless, wearing just his slacks.

I pull my head out of the gutter and fumble with the blanket so I can return to my room.

“I’m ok, Cassidy. Want me to stay with you?” he asks, earnestly. I think about just saying yes. I don’t.

“Why are you still awake?” I ask, instead. He shrugs, the muscles in his shoulders bunching up. I look at him, my eyes trailing to places I shouldn’t be looking.

“Maybe I was hoping you’d stop by,” he whispers, glancing back at the window. I laugh a little.

“Glad I did then. Goodnight, Elliot Foster,” I say.

He grins at me before opening his mouth,“Goodnight, Cassidy Abbot.”

I laugh a little, “That’s not really my last name. I thought you figured that out.” he stands more at attention now.

“It’s not?” he asks, shock apparent in his voice.

“No, a part of my cover,” I mutter. He takes a few steps closer to me. I can finally see his face in the dim starlight.

“What’s your real last name?” he asks. I shrug.

“I’ll tell you one day. Goodnight,” I say after a moment. He takes one more step in my direction. I open the door and he follows behind me.

I open the door to my room, grabbing his hand on the way in. He pulls me into the softest kiss. His lips barely graze mine.

“You wanted me to follow you, right?” he asks. I nod, silently. His lips press against mine, a little more passionately this time. His chapped bottom lip slightly scrapes mine.

“Let’s get some rest, Elliot,” I mutter between kisses. He pulls away. I walk toward the bed and invite him to take the right side. He does, staying near the edge of the bed.

“C’mere,” I mutter, after crawling to bed myself. He scoots closer to me, I grab his arm and pull it around me. He plants a soft kiss on the side of my neck. Shivers shoot down my body. I squeeze his arm and snuggle up to him. I stare at the wall, taking in the feeling of him pressed against me. The support of him to me.

But, even his peace doesn’t stop my worries. What’s going to be left when we come back? Will we even make it back? What will the CIA think of me? The FBI of Elliot? Will Max end up just like his friend, Ali? Will we all? All these thoughts race through my brain. I can’t stop them from bugging me.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispers, several minutes into my worry attack.

“No,” I whisper.

He picks up his arm and traces a line down my arm, “Why not?”

I sigh, “I can’t stop thinking about what the world will look like when we get home.” he nuzzles his face up to my neck.

“I know. I like thinking about it,” he whispers. I feel the heat of his whisper along my neck. Goosebumps run down me.

“You thinking about it?” I say, with a light laugh, “What’s there to be excited about?” After a moment, he rests his head back on the pillow behind me. He rests his arm across me again.

“If this freaks you out, tell me to stop, but maybe I can help you sleep. I like daydreaming about you and I after all of this is over. I know that you’re not really there, but I’m letting you see into my mind here. A daydream, not an expectation,” he explains. I close my eyes.

“Well, I figure we’ll get back and have things to tend to. Jobs, learning the new world. Maybe you’ll have to go back to Macedonia. Or Charleston. And, I’ll have to go back to Richmond. But, in my imaginary world, I like to pretend that when we get back, you’ll go get all your stuff from Macedonia. I’ll tell Ava all about you: show her pictures, tell her stories. Eventually, maybe, you can come stay for a while. I can cook you eggs and waffles and toast every morning. I’ll take you on real dates. We can go see movies, eat at steakhouses, and watch the sunset. I’m sure things will go so well that we’ll want to move in together. Get a place of our own. I’ll let you and Ava do all the decorating. But, I’ll paint and build anything you need me to. I’ll start saving money like crazy,” he says. I find myself smiling. He’s so cute.

He slides his hand down my arm and takes my hand. His fingers tickle me as they softly skim the back of my hand. He laces his fingers around my ring finger.

“And, someday, I’ll put a ring on this finger. A big shiny diamond or several delicate ones, whatever I see when I stalk the Wedding pinterest board that I’m sure you have. Hopefully by then you’ll tell me your real last name so that I can say it when I propose. I’m sure your dad would be confused if I called you Abbot,” he whispers. I giggle a little, feeling overwhelmed, yet relaxed. Fears about the government and my job and history fade. But, a tingle of anticipation––good or bad––appears in my heart.

“And, we’ll have the wedding of dreams. The only thing that I need in a wedding is you as my bride,” he says, kissing my ring finger gently.

“I don’t deserve you, Elliot,” I mutter, feeling almost guilty. I haven’t even said I love you. And, yet, he just happily admitted to daydreaming about our wedding.

“You deserve the world, Cassidy. I know that right now, I’m only one little island in your world. But, I never want to be your world, because, like the Earth, you’re a myriad of a thousand structures. Your world could never be consumed entirely by just one person. But I hope that one day, maybe, just maybe, I can conquer a continent of it.” he says. I let out the air I’ve been holding in. I think I’m falling in love with him.

—

Birds chirp above me.

I push off the ground and look around. Elliot and I should’ve asked Belle about the next year. Everyone else sleeps still. I try to figure out where we are. The soil beneath my feet is red, clay-like. We must be in the south again. The air isn’t salty, which thankfully means no boats. Eventually, Max stirs.

He stands up and walks towards me. He gently grabs my bicep and pulls me away from Elliot and Belle.

“Can we talk?” he whispers into my ear.

“Sure,” I whisper back, keeping my eye on Elliot. We’re far enough from the recorder, but it still makes me anxious.

“The group that sent us here and hurt Ali, what is their goal?” he asks. I bite the side of my lip. Poor Max. Poor Ali. I turn my head to whisper into his ear.

“We’re still figuring that out too. But, our working theory is that they want to crumble democracy and take full power. When Elliot was selected they promised him a major political position upon completion. I think that all of these events might be things that helped America flourish under democracy, even though they were objectively bad. If we undo all of these events, then democracy will crumble by our lifetime and the Congressionalists will have complete control,” I explain. Max’s face goes pale: his skin flushing from a tanned olive color to a sea-sick green tone.

“So, we’ve probably already crumbled democracy?” he asks. I shrug at him.

“Who knows. This mission, I want to rig the trigger system. See if we can jump without actually changing the event,” I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elliot standing up. I walk away from Max, towards Elliot and Belle. Elliot wears an open jacket and a funny hat. My dress is shorter than previous years, finally resting just at my ankles, rather than the ground. Belle wakes up soon and reads us the mission.

“Welcome to Sailes, Louisiana. Bonnie and Clyde will be killed here tomorrow,” Belle says, her voice rising in shock. I feel my mouth open a little. Elliot and Max both glance at me. She continues after a second, “You are here to ensure that Bonnie and Clyde do not get shot in the shootout.”

“Why?” Max mouths, silently at me. I shrug at him.

“Literally what the fuck,” Slips out of my mouth. Elliot shoots me a dirty look. I glare back. Belle folds the paper back up and tucks it into her bra.

“Bonnie and Clyde…” Belle mutters, “Who was that again?”

“Bank robbers that were madly in love with each other. They killed like 13 people. Then, they died in an FBI shootout,” Elliot answers.

, I think to myself.

“Strategy: I think we need to find Bonnie and Clyde and convince them not to drive tomorrow,” I say. Everyone nods in agreement with me, so we walk out of the woods.

The spring heat is melting me. The Louisiana humidity doesn’t help either. I catch up with Elliot. God, I wish I could just talk to him.

“Cassidy,” he says, smiling at me. His soft eyes melt me.

“Elliot,” I reply. An idea pops into my head. The recorder. I can give it to Max, temporarily. I feel a smile creep onto my face, which Elliot definitely notices. I hold up my index finger and run over to Max.

I whisper in his ear, “I’m going to give you the tape recorder so that Elliot and I can make a plan, then I’ll take it back and fill you in. You just need to not speak and keep walking. Stay far enough away from me and Elliot.”

“Good idea, Cass,” he says.

I sprint back over to Elliot and reach my hand into his pocket. He immediately grabs my shoulder, his eyes wide. The recorder is in my hand. He’s just preventing me from taking it.

“What the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?” he says, in Russian… as if leadership wouldn’t just translate what he’s saying.

“No, sorry. Trust me, I just need to check on your bullet wound,” I explain. He raises an eyebrow, completely lost. But, after a second of insistent nodding on my part, he releases my arm. I nab the tape recorder and gently pass it to Max. After Max slows down and trails far enough behind us, I turn to Elliot.

“Cassidy!” he grumbles, tense. I hush him.

“Look, now we can talk and the recorder will only hear Max’s footsteps,” I explain. He takes off his hat and runs his hands through his hair.

“Okay, but this is risky. This better be important,” he says. I feel like my stomach is sinking. Yikes.

“So, number one, we need a plan. I’m thinking that we will find Bonnie and Clyde. They must be Congressionalists. There is no other reason. Max or I can interrogate them about being Congressionalists. But, I think we should see what happens if we just don’t complete the mission,” I whisper. He immediately furrows his brow and shakes his head.

“Are you crazy, Cassidy?” he scolds. His reaction shocks me. My heart beats significantly faster than normal. He crosses his arms, “We’ll be stuck here forever. Do you want to live the rest of your life in 1934?”

“We don’t know that,” I mutter. He scoffs.

“No. Cassidy. No. The answer is no. We are simply not doing that,” he spits. I’m taken aback by his sudden aggression.

“So, what? We just continue to change a million things in history for what purpose? Finding out who the Congressionalists are has literally no point if we continue to do everything for them,” I argue back. His jaw clenches tightly.

“You don’t understand. If they don’t survive, then the trigger doesn’t happen and we don’t leave. Some of us can’t just get stuck here forever. I have responsibilities at home, you know,” he grumbles more.

“I know you’re worried about your niece, but do you really think that if we go through with all of these changes that she’ll still exist? Maybe she will never be born. Maybe she’ll be put into foster care instead of going with you. The more we change, the less likely you’ll have anything familiar to return to,” I exasperate. He looks up at the sky.

“Maybe you’re right. But, that doesn’t mean I want to be stuck here forever,” he says, with a sigh.

“I’d rather get stuck in 1934 than return to a dictatorship run by Congressionalists,” I reply. He shakes his head, but stays silent for a while. I bite my lip. He’s definitely not going to agree. So, I’m back to square one — fighting a terrorist group all by myself!

After a moment, I press him, “Elliot. Just think of it as an ultimatum. Potentially get stuck here. Or definitely return to a state run by a terrorist group.”

He rubs his face with his hands. “Let’s make that call after talking to Bonnie and Clyde. I agree that we really should interrogate them. You and Max can do it, alone so that the tape recorder hears nothing. And, everything that we do MUST look like we are trying to keep them from dying. Paint it out like we tried. Maybe, just maybe, something can get overridden,” he says, “But, I’m not agreeing. Not yet. Let’s talk with Max and see what Bonnie and Clyde have to say. We just need to understand that doing anything against that sheet is dangerous. They will kill us.”

“Okay. I got it. Thank you,” I say. I turn to grab the recorder, a little frustrated, but he grabs my arm. I turn back to glance at him. His expression has softened.

“Cassidy. One more thing. I just need to get this out while there’s no recorder and before someone is sent to kill me or you. I love you. You don’t have to say it back. I just need that off my conscience,” he says, looking straight into my eyes. I feel a spout of air fly out of my mouth. He releases my arm. I smile at him a bit, but have no idea what to say back. After a moment, his smile falls and he nods, “It’s okay, Cassidy. Go get the recorder.”

I look down at the ground and walk up to Max. He passes me the recorder, which I carry back to Elliot. He looks at me, hollow-eyed. Guilt overwhelms me. I led him on too much. Or, maybe I just need to figure out my feelings. After a minute, I run back to Max and catch him up. He seems equally as freaked out.

“You really think that will go well? Won’t we just like never leave?” he stammers.

“Is 1934 not better than a dictatorship?” I propose. He sighs, just as Elliot did.

“You’re right, Cass,” he mumbles. My stomach does loops. Am I being too ambitious?

Just as I finish talking to Max, we arrive in the town of Sailes. Belle continues to trail behind us, but Max and I get closer to Elliot.

“Elliot, you always seem to have the answers,” Max says, winking at me. I shake my head at him. He continues anyway, “Why are Bonnie and Clyde in Louisiana?”

“I really think that they’re here seeing one of the gang member’s family or staying with them maybe,” he answers. I cringe at how obvious it is. Belle just seems to be listening, no comments. I wonder if she’s okay. Something seems off.

I float over to Belle, as the boys discuss the event’s history.

“You ok?” I whisper to her. She glances up from her hands.

“Sure,” she mutters.

“You’re not. What’s wrong? I can try to help or fix it?” I say, looking straight at her. Her eyes avoid mine. She peers off into the town behind me.

“I’m fine, Cass. Don’t worry about it,” she snaps after a second. It’s as if everyone is grouchy all of a sudden.

“Okay, Belle. If you change your mind, I’m here to chat,” I offer. She nods, still avoiding eye contact. Max approaches us.

“So, we’ve determined that Bonnie and Clyde are staying with Henry Methvin’s family, somewhere near here,” Max says. I’m thankful that the boys are working with each other now.

“Okay, let’s find ’em,” I reply. The four of us wander towards the center of this town. It’s small, mostly farming or ranching land. Max walks up to a farmer and asks him about the Methvin family. The man doesn’t answer his question. This might be harder than we think. Maybe we won’t even get the chance to save Bonnie and Clyde.

Elliot reaches into his pocket, towards the recorder. Pausing it now would be bold. No reason to pause this early… right? But, even after removing his hand from the pocket, he doesn’t approach me or Max. Belle, to my right, points at the sky: a basket. Elliot requested something.

She jumps up and catches the basket. Inside is a newspaper. Go, Elliot. On it is a headline for two days from today:

Below the headline there are two photos. One of Bonnie and Clyde, where Bonnie holds a gun playfully pointed at Clyde. The other of their bullet-ridden car. I read the article, but nothing important is indicated. But, I think the photo will help. I wave over Elliot and Max.

“All we need to do is find that car. It’s got to be parked somewhere,” I say. Max takes the newspaper from me and holds it up into the light. We wander through the long streets of Sailes, Louisiana. After a few hours, my head is throbbing. It’s got to be 100º outside. My dress is glued to my legs, thanks to sweat pouring down them. Max and Elliot both carry their jackets, revealing sweat-stained shirts. Belle wipes her neck and chest with her dress, in an attempt to dry the sweat.

“We can’t keep walking in this heat,” I finally complain.

Max turns to me and shrugs, “Where are we going to go? The car is nowhere to be found.” His face is flushed red, sweat pouring down. Belle doubles over and makes a horrible vomiting sound. I look away, but unfortunately hear the sound of her expulsion hitting the hot ground.

“Belle’s having a heat stroke,” Elliot says, spinning towards her. I watch her barely hold herself up. After Belle convulses once more, she faints. Elliot catches her before she completely hits the dirt. He grunts, scooping her up completely.

“I see a house just down that way, let’s stop there regardless of whose house it is,” Max suggests. We all nod in agreement. The house is probably half of a mile away. My feet drag and drag along the dirt road. I might be the next one to faint. After 15 minutes more of torture, we’re practically at the driveway of the home. Max takes the lead, approaching the door to the house. Elliot lingers back, still holding Belle tight. Max thuds on the door, shaking the entire house. Footsteps approach as I start to see black spots. The squeaky door opens and a woman answers. She’s big busted, wearing a plainly colored dress. Momentarily, a tall man appears behind her with a gun. If it wasn’t for my progressing heat stroke, my eyes would’ve popped out of my head.

“Who the hell are you?” The man says with a thick southern drawl. Max grips the side of the door.

“I’m sorry to bother ya,” I pipe in, “But, our car broke down, up over yonder. We’re just passin’ through and it is so stinkin’ hot here. Is there any way we could bug y’all for some water? My girl passed out a few minutes ago from the heat.”

The woman sticks her head out and peers at Elliot and Belle. She turns to the taller, younger man and nods at him.

“Let ‘em in. I don’t think they’re cops or nothin’.” she says. The man steps out of the door frame. Max and I walk in, followed by Elliot and Belle. Just the shelter from the sun aids my throbbing head. The woman disappears into another area and returns with three glasses of water and a wet rag. She sets the water down on a table, next to us.

“Go ’head. Drink up,” she says. I grip the glass of water and gulp down the smooth liquid. Max and I’s glasses are gone in seconds. Elliot sets Belle down on the entry hall’s rug. The woman places the rag over her forehead. Elliot grabs his cup of water and consumes it quickly.

“Thank you,” Max finally mutters. She nods at us and disappears once more. She returns with another wet rag and places this one across Belle’s neck. The man refills our cups with more water. I desperately grab my cup once more. I lift my attention to the stairs as the footsteps of at least two people come down. A woman and a man appear from the stairs. I choke on my water, but maintain the straightest face I can. It’s Bonnie and Clyde. Right here.

“Now, what’s all this commotion?” The woman, Bonnie, asks. I can’t help but just stare at her. I immediately jump into action mode.

“We’re just travelin’ through when our car broke down. We’ve been walkin’ hours looking for gas when the heat just got to us. Our friend, Belle, passed out down the road. We’ll be out of your hair as soon as she wakes up,” I say. The man behind her smirks, sinisterly. I glance as carefully as I can towards Elliot, who only pays attention to Belle. Damnit, Elliot.

“You got a mouth on you, don’t ya?” Clyde says, “Just like my Bonnie here.” Chills run down my body, contrasting with the dampness soaking my skin. Max and Elliot both turn towards me slowly.

“She sure does,” Elliot says with a chuckle.

“Now, whatcha four doin’ down here? Passing through to where?” The first man, the one from the door, asks us. I rack my brain trying to think of what to say.

“Nowhere in particular. Really just on the run,” I say with a wink. Bonnie smirks at me.

“From who?” she bugs. I shrug.

“You probably wouldn’t be helpin’ us if you knew,” I continue. Max inhales sharply and glares at me. I just need everyone to trust me, but I get the sense that they don’t.

“You don’t recognize us?” she says, with a scoff. I swallow.

“No. Should I?” I ask.

Clyde raises one of his eyebrows and smirks, “Ever heard of the Barrow gang?”

“I sure ain’t never. You don’t recognize us?” I reply. The doorway man holds his hand on the gun tightly. Beside me, Max prepares to pull his.

“No. Where you from?” Bonnie asks.

“Out West,” I answer. She nods and looks at Clyde.

“Well, I’m Bonnie. And your name?” she says. I release my breath.

“Caroline. And, this is Eli and Marvin,” I reply, “And, Belle.”

“Clyde, Henry and Blanche,” Bonnie says, pointing. Henry, the doorway guy, softens his grip on the gun. Bonnie turns around, facing Clyde. She whispers something to him. I nervously glance at Belle, who still hasn’t woken. Her chest rises and falls, indicating life, thankfully.

“Why don’t we all have a seat and chat?” Clyde says at last. Elliot glances at me. I just stare right back. We don’t seem to have a choice. Blanche motions for us to go into the living room area of the home. I glance back at Belle several times. She needs to wake up. I don’t want to leave her passed out.

I sit down on a couch, between Max and Elliot.

“So, what are ya?” Clyde asks, pacing back and forth across the room. Bonnie and Blanche calmly sit across from us. I’ve lost sight of Henry. After a moment, he presses more, “Bank robbers?”

“What’s it to ya?” I spit, hoping to rile him up a bit. Clyde laughs.

“Aren’t you going to tell her to hush? Which one of ya is her husband?” Clyde asks.

Elliot pipes up, “I am, but she’s just saying what all three of us were thinkin’. What are y’all?” he slides his hand over my leg, tenderly.

“Bank robbers. You better not be cops or we’ll kill ya’.” Clyde replies.

“In the same game. We ain’t just rob banks though. We rob saloons and the wealthy,” Elliot says, cracking his knuckles. Bonnie smirks at us.

“Interestin’.” Clyde says, “Now, who ya on the run from?”

“FBI and some pissed off Nevada rangers,” Elliot answers. Clyde raises an eyebrow and looks towards the girls. Bonnie and Blanche just sit on the couch, watching. Henry appears from the hallway and Clyde speaks to him.

“Your friend is wakin’ up, but before you leave…” Clyde says. Elliot immediately stands up and walks towards Belle. I turn my attention back to Clyde. “We’re wondering if you want an alliance. Whatever you call yourselves and the Barrow gang. We watch for you, you watch for us.”

Belle stands in the hallway, still pale. Elliot talks to her, but I can’t make out his words. Max remains dead silent. I nearly forgot he was here.

“That’s a deal,” I say. Max nods with me. Elliot nods me over to him. I stand and approach them.

“Belle, are you okay?” I ask. She shakes her head.

“Honestly, I feel like I’m dying,” she says. I touch her forehead. She’s still a million degrees. I turn back around to the group.

“Blanche, would she be able to have a cup of water? I’m sorry to ask ya, but I ain’t think she’s doin’ good,” I ask. Blanche just silently gets up and walks into the kitchen area. I pass Belle the cup of water, which she drinks eagerly.

“Maybe ya should sit for a while,” Bonnie says, from behind me. I didn’t notice her stand up. She’s several inches shorter than me, only noticeable when she stands right next to me. Her general aurora makes her appear so much taller, so much stronger. But, she’s actually quite little. I chauffeur Belle to the couch where Max sits. She leans back on it.

I stand next to Elliot, who is now leaning against the wall. He looks at me, “I probably am going to use the bathroom. Can you keep an eye on Belle?”

“Yeah, of course,” I say. He reaches into his pocket. Oh. I nod at him.

“Question time,” he mutters. I stand up a little straighter and look at the group: four of them, four of us. “Now, Barrows, I got a question for you. Your gang, how many of ya?”

Clyde sits down on Bonnie and Blanche’s couch now. Bonnie slides onto his lap, his arm around her neck.

“Well, the Barrow gang is just about eight of us, dependin’ on who’s askin’. But, there’s a bunch of us watchin’ out for each other, not even all bank robbers,” Clyde says.

“How do we get in on that?” Elliot asks. Belle lays on the couch, just staring at the ceiling. I’m not sure she’s even fully conscious. Max stares right at me. Clyde smirks, playing with Bonnie’s hair.

“You gotta join something. They call ‘em the Congressionalists. They’ve been keepin’ us safe for years. All y’all gotta do is pay a little fee every year and they’ll watch out for ya,” Clyde explains. Max raises his eyebrows, but I was fully expecting this.

“That sounds mighty nice, but what do they use the money for? We don’t like sharing our spoils,” I ask. Bonnie shakes her head.

“I said the same damn thing. But, they plannin’ something big. Real big. And all of us are gonna be on top once it happens,” she says, “Y’all outta join before it happens.” Clyde hushes Bonnie. She snaps back, “I’m just promotin’ it. You ain’t trust ’em? They ain’t cops Clyde. They gotta Negro girl. Ain’t no Texas or Lousiana cops got a girl, let alone a Negro girl.”

I smile, “You ain’t need to trust us. Just know anything we have on you, you have on us. We could rat you out, but you could rat us out too. The FBI lookin’ for us more than they lookin’ for you.”

Bonnie nods, “Clyde, us women got a thing goin’. I trust her.” I smile at her.

I look out the window, the sun is setting. Belle still looks pale, staring at the ceiling. Elliot hand brushes against my waist.

“Bonnie, when’s this thing they’re plannin’? I want in,” I say.

She gives Clyde a look before answering, “A couple weeks. We’re leavin’ here tomorrow to do one last errand for the group before the mission.”

It starts clicking. We’re here to stop them from dying because they’re going to help the Congressionalists on this ‘plan.’ But, they die tomorrow, thus not being able to complete the errand. I glance at Elliot.

“Who can I contact to join?” I ask. She points gently to Henry.

“Tell ’em your guy, Henry. It’s invite only, but Henry can give you our code,” she says. He huffs and grabs a paper from the counter. He sloppily writes down a telegraph number and an address. Below it is a codeword. Elliot takes the paper from him and thanks him.

I walk over to the couch and touch Belle. She’s still extremely hot, sweating profusely. I shake my head at Elliot.

“Eli, she’s still really hot. I don’t think she’s ok. We might need to stay at a hotel tonight to avoid the humid air. Bonnie, are there any hotels around here?” I ask. Bonnie shakes her head.

“If you’re really wanted like us, there ain’t no safe hotels. We’ll take pity on your friend. Henry, you think they can stay with us tonight? I’ll give ’em my fan to use and everything,” she says. Henry sighs, but nods.

After a few moments, Bonnie moves around the living room, allowing space for Belle and Max to sleep on each couch. From her room, she fetches a wire, copper fan. I didn’t even know they had electric fans in the 30s. She plugs it in and the cool air flows right onto Belle. After a moment, she waves Elliot and I to follow her down the hallway. She opens a door to a small bedroom on the left. Inside, there’s two beds. Both are just twin sized neatly made with pink floral bedsprads.

“Clyde n’ I sleep in here. If you two can sleep in this one, we’ll share the otha for the night,” Bonnie suggests. I glance back at Elliot who silently nods at me.

“Thank you,” I tell her. Clyde enters the room a few moments later. Elliot and I settle down in bed. He dresses down into his undergarments. I carefully watch Bonnie undress to ensure that we remain at equal levels of decency. I strip down to my undergarments as well. Clyde’s eyes are thankfully glued on Bonnie The entire time that she undresses, she giggles towards Clyde. Elliot, on the other hand, awkwardly stares at the ceiling as I undress. Once Clyde flips off the lamp, I slip into bed next to Elliot. The bed is tiny. My shoulders rest on top of his, just to even partially lay on the mattress.

His body heat radiates onto me. Sweat forms in the space between his arm and mine. After Bonnie’s faint breathing and Clyde’s occasional snores, I turn to Elliot. He opens his eyes as I turn my head.

“What’s wrong with you?” I whisper. He closes his eyes. I wait a few moments, but a response never comes. I sigh, “I know you’re awake. What is wrong?”

He opens just one eye to look at me, acknowledging that I spoke. But, he does not reply. I make a face, but I’m not sure if the dark hid it from him.

“Elliot,” I whisper. He closes his eyes again. I reach up and tap his face gently. This time, both of his eyes open. He reaches up and removes my hand from his face.

“It’s fine, Cass. Stop,” he mutters. My heart falls to my toes. A lull heartbeat stays in my stomach. He closes his eyes again and rotates his head back.

“Elliot. Something is clearly wrong,” I whisper again. His eyes snap open and he turns his head back to me once more.

“You’re right. Everything is wrong. But, don’t fear because it’s nothing you can fix. Go to bed, Cass,” he grumbles. I feel my jaw clench.

“You’re upset with me, specifically. You’re calling me ‘Cass’ and you never do that. Did I do something to upset you? Is it about wanting to make changes? I’m just advocating for what I think is best for the whole,” I over explain. His opinion shouldn’t matter to me. This is my mission. I’m doing what I need to do. But, his opinion does matter to me. I don’t really need his help, but things feel so much better when I have it.

He sighs, “Not at all related.”

“So, what’s it about then?” I question. He stares off into space for a moment.

Then, he moves his head on the pillow, looking at me now. “Cass, this is personal. Not related to the mission or changes or anything. I think you can figure it out from there, you’re smart enough.” I look into his eyes, which do not look back at me. Instead, he focuses on the wall behind me. I rack my brain to figure out what he’s talking about.

“Oh,” I mutter. His eyes fall from the wall into mine. I hold his eye contact.

He bites his lip briefly, “Do you not feel the same? It’s okay if you don’t. I just expected something different, I guess.” Disappointment lingers in his voice.

I feel my heart float back to my chest cavity, now beating faster than ever. Hopefully he can’t feel my pulse.

“I really like you, Elliot. I do. I’m not at ‘love you’ yet. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but I don’t like throwing something like that around,” I say.

He closes his eyes tightly and flatly says, “Ok.”

“I’m not saying that I’ll never get there. Honestly, I think I will be there soon. I just am not there right now. Okay?” I say, looking at him.

He opens just one eye, “Don’t tell me things that just aren’t true.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m not lying, Elliot. I will be there soon. I don’t know why you think that I won’t be.”

His other eye opens, finally staring right at me, “Cassidy, I have opened up to so much. I told you all about what I want with you in the future. I’ve told you I’ve loved you. And I’ve gotten nothing of like from you.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, “I don’t exactly open up easily. You’re right. You love me and I don’t love you, but…”

He spits a little into a chuckle, “Damn!”

My eyes widen towards him, “What?!”

“You didn’t have to put it like that! You’re trying to break me here,” he says, grinning ever so slightly.

“You said not to lie to you,” I say, laughing a little, “But, really, you’re there and I’m not, but it doesn’t mean that I’m completely uninterested in you. I’m not the type of person to ramble on about weddings and babies and life together, either. That’s not the same, though, as me not being interested in you. And it doesn’t mean that I didn’t enjoy hearing you ramble about those things, because I did like hearing that.” he moves his hand and rests it on the top of my thigh, giving it a small squeeze.

“Good,” is all he says. I just stare at him through the dim light. My heart flutters as I remember a sleeping Bonnie and Clyde just inches behind Elliot. But, it calms as I listen to continuing breaths from them. He gently touches my face and smiles. The pure happiness in his eyes melts me.

“I know you’re not ready to say it back and I’m not pushing you too, but god, I love you Cassidy,” he whispers. My heart flutters in my chest.

“Not sure what I should say back,” I whisper. He runs his hands through my hair, smiling at me. The gentle massage of his fingers against my scalp relaxes me as deeply as possible.

“Maybe you could give me a tidbit of opening up. No pressure though,” he says with a wink.

. He definitely wants the pressure.

“Sure,” I say as a flicker of something — hope maybe — appears in his eyes. I scan his face and say at last, “Well, when we, you know, the first time, I definitely enjoyed it of course…”

He cuts me off, laughing so hard I’m afraid he’ll wake Bonnie and Clyde, “Oh, so you only like me for my dick?” he’s joking, of course, but I still feel bad.

“I wasn’t done! I was saying that because it was so good, I started thinking about you in the past. It was obviously not your first time,” I continue.

“Not yours either,” he mutters. I can’t help but laugh.

“Let me finish. Jealousy shows interest, right? I’m saying, I felt a lot of jealousy towards all your previous partners.,” I say.

“Point made, but would it make you feel better if I told you it was just one previous partner?” he asks me. I raise an eyebrow.

“Worse, actually,” I mumble. He winks at me.

“Well, how many previous partners of yours do I need to be jealous of?” he asks, after a second.

“I don’t keep track of my body count. But, let’s just say way more than yours,” I whisper back. My throat feels tight. Hope he doesn’t hate that answer.

He rolls his eyes at me, “I’m not asking for your body count. I’m not jealous of things I’ve already have. How many men have you loved? I’m jealous of anyone who got the honor of being loved by you.”

I try to swallow the ever-growing lump in my throat. It doesn’t go away. At last, I am able to muster, “None.”

He lifts his head up from the pillow and looks at me, “You may have been telling the truth earlier, but this isn’t true. None? Have you never dated seriously or…”

“I haven’t. What’s your love number?” I ask.

“One.”

“Same girl?”

“Yes,” he says. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Jealousy.

“How long were you together? Why are you not anymore?” I muster after a second. This went from him begging me for more to the reverse really quickly.

“Three and a half years, in college. We graduated and joined the FBI together. Broke up because I stayed in Virginia to take care of Ava and she wasn’t willing to stay. She wanted me to move Ava across the country after Ava had lost so much already. I’ve never regretted the breakup,” he says, flatly.

“Oh,” escapes my lips. He continues to play with my hair. After a moment, I ask another question, “What’s her name?”

He pauses, no longer touching my hair, “Donna, but why does it matter? Do you want me to think about her more? I’m trying to sit here and give you all of my attention. I haven’t thought about her in years.”

I feel myself smile, “It doesn’t matter. I’m just being jealous.”

He smiles back, “No need to be jealous. I love you, remember?”

I pull him into a kiss, but he gently pulls away.

“We should sleep. Don’t want to wake Bonnie and Clyde,” he mutters, still grinning wide at me, “And if you keep kissing me, we’d definitely wake them.”

I roll my eyes. He gently tugs me towards him, so that I lay on his chest. His arms wrap around my body, cradling me ever-so nicely. My dreams take me away, just until sunlight fades into the room.