𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒𝟔

authors note!

this chapter contains mentions (and use) of firearms.

i am not, by any means, glorifying guns. to reiterate, cami is not a reliable narrator, so her ways of thinking are not ones that should be taken literally. guns or any weapons do not equate to power, so please don't take her descriptions as truth.

bare this in mind as you read & hope you enjoy <3

— nina

CHAPTER FORTY SIX bonnie & clyde, vol. 2

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TO PUT IT simply, there was no going back now.

I wasn't even completely aware of what Rafe needed me to do with him, but his attitude surrounding that 'something' was beginning to scare me more than the thought of the action itself. Differing how he disregarded my affection nearly an hour ago, he'd now started almost suffocating me with the acts, as if he needed to cram in all the reassurance for his feelings towards me at once.

He didn't need to do anything, not to me at least. His constant repetition of the phrase 'we need to do something' drilled the idea into my head, but I don't think it was clear to him that I wasn't demanding stuff from him on my part. It was my agreement; I vowed to do whatever he needed me to. I was the one who willingly gave myself to him, and I didn't need him to feel obliged to reciprocate any of that.

The hem of my yellow tee rolled between my fingertips, the lack of substance in my system leaving me with overwhelming awareness of everything around me. Every small sound seemed that much louder, and every thread on my body seemed to be out to strangle me. If the anticipation for Rafe's appearance wasn't killing me enough, the world around me was bound to swallow me whole soon.

"Why are you taking so long?" I shouted, leaning back against the wall connected to the house's front door.

"I can't find any fucking coke." he responded with equally loud volume, accompanied with a clear sense of anger.

"That's 'cause we finished it." I confirmed, "We're not in a rush, I'm sure Barry has something lying around."

He walked into the front room seconds after my words, silently heading towards me and eventually taking my face into his hands. Despite my attempt to avert my gaze away from him, Rafe kept me in position, looking into my eyes like I'd been so used to doing to him. As the blank expression failed to leave my lips, the worry I was feeling was starting to progress onto him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not gonna let you get hurt, okay?" he spoke softly, "We're just gonna scare them, I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"Rafe, you can't promise that." I countered his reassurance, too clouded by my own fear to appreciate his apology. "I don't even know what you're planning to do."

He breathed out, letting out a sound that was close to a sigh, "I need to grab something from Tannyhill, and then we can stop at Barry's like you wanted before going to the airstrip. Nothing bad will happen."

His constant repetition was starting to become more of a prayer, as if he needed the spoken phrases to help him believe everything would be fine. It wasn't to say that I didn't understand where he was coming from, I just wished I properly understood just what he was going to do.

But, foolishly, I trusted him. I trusted him to keep me safe like he verbally promised, and that was possibly the dumbest thing I'd ever committed to.

My lips met his for a short second as confirmation for what was to come. Rafe retreated with a smile, almost relieved that I'd finally given in. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he continued pressing his lips to my temple, pausing every so often to whisper inaudibly. I let myself sink into his touch, feeling safe once I reaffirmed that he was the person who cared most for me.

Regret was nothing but a fraction of the many sacrifices I was willing to make for him.

We strolled down the Figure 8 street in silence- something that was surprisingly comforting in comparison to the stressed tone of our voices. Once reaching the gate of the house we used to reside in, he entered in the 4 digit code that granted us entrance back into the estate, the success of the first part of our trip leaving us ignorant to the possibility of someone catching us.

The house had expectedly been the same as before we left, every expensive decoration staying perched up in position and adding to how invisible both of us felt in these 4 walls. Even if he shared the same Cameron blood as the rest of his family, I knew he felt as much of a stranger as I did, considering he was shunned out by his father for a simple mistake. They didn't need us around, soon enough leading us to the realization that we needed no one else but ourselves.

I stepped foot into Ward's office, following Rafe's lead into the typically locked room. My eyes moved between each detail of the area, occupying myself with the surroundings whilst he focused on the safe. A decanter of whiskey sat on one of the tables; an open invitation for me to pour a glass and chase the bitter taste down my throat.

"Fuckin' hate whiskey." I coughed, scrunching my face together as I tried to bear the taste, "How do you drink this religiously?"

"Says the girl who only drinks that cheap peach flavored stuff. You're not one to talk about taste when that tastes like perfume." he laughed.

"Don't knock it 'till you try it." a small smile returned to my lips, comforted by the effortless normal conversations between us.

Tucking something into the waistband of his shorts, he turned back until he was face-on with me and fixed his arms around my hips, "I'll buy you some now if you want. Like you said, we're not in a rush."

"Really, you'd do that for me?" I mocked, silenced by Rafe kissing me once again.

"Yes, I would. We can share a bottle for old time's sake." he pulled back with a grin.

"When did we share a bottle of peach liqueur?"

"That night at the Boneyard. Remember, when you fucked John B in the ocean?" he counteracted my question, the memories he sparked up making me physically cringe.

"Okay, firstly," I started, "I did not fuck John B. Secondly, I was wasted, I don't remember anything from that night except that someone decided to be a petty little bitch and file a certain customer complaint."

"Guilty as charged." he threw his arms up jokingly, taking hold of me seconds after and leading us out of the office.

Interlocking his fingers with mine, I began feeling the same familiarity that I'd been used to feeling around him. Safety, content, and happiness were all things I experienced when with him. No matter how stressed I could be about the forthcoming situation, simply being around him was reason enough for me to continue being normal.

We exited the house the same way we entered: quiet and unnoticed. Presumably in a moment where I had my head turned, Rafe had found the keys to his father's truck and unlocked the vehicle with a simple click, my sharply switched gaze falling on the same wide grin he continued to possess through our schemes. Without further question, I settled myself down in the passenger seat, not bothering enough to fasten my seatbelt- not like I'd ever done so before.

I watched the boy reach into the exact part of his shorts where he'd tucked whatever he gathered from Ward's safe, the object that now rested in his hands making me pause my breathing.

A silver pistol resided in Rafe's hold, the delicate hands that I had linked with mine not minutes ago turning into a mural of violence. When he mentioned that we'd be scaring them- whoever 'they' were- I don't know exactly what I imagined, but needless to say I never expected him to pull out a gun. Any worry he'd managed to chase down in me resurfaced all at once, causing a physical panic to take place in me.

I raked my hands through my hair and exhaled, "Rafe, please tell me that isn't real."

"What isn't? This?" he lifted the pistol, not a shred of unfamiliarity in his actions.

"That isn't real, right? You're gonna scare them with a fake gun, that makes sense." I attempted to reason with the turmoil in my mind, taking the most believable explanation and speaking it into hopeful existence.

"It's real."

"Rafe, what the fuck do you need a real gun for? Have you lost your fucking mind?" I filled the car with the sound of my voice, my throat beginning to strain at the unexpected volume.

"Stop yelling, God. I've got this figured out, okay? You were the one who wanted to tag along with me." he shrugged nonchalantly.

"You really wanna play that game again? Fine, I'll leave if that makes you happy. I placed my hand around the handle of the car door, swiftly shut down by the click of the lock.

Rafe returned his focus to loading up the bullets, his movements sharp and tense, "Why are you acting like this? You won't even let me explain myself."

"Acting like what exactly?" I questioned.

"You're thinking too much of this. I wouldn't do anything that would get you into danger, I thought we already established that."

"How do you expect me to believe what you're saying when you've literally got a gun in your hand?" my voice cracked.

Preventing the anger pent up in me from blurring with any other unnecessary emotion, I leaned back into the car seat and moved my head to the right, staring out onto the stagnant scenery around us. There wasn't long of my internal dwelling before Rafe tossed the gun into my lap; an immediate shift in the fade to calmness.

I looked at him and then back to the object, encouraged to pick it up by his silent nod and following so blindly. Holding the item brought an oddly reassuring sense of power into me, aware that it was now me with all control of the weapon. My index finger curled over the trigger, ensuring to be delicate enough to not fire it.

"Makes you feel powerful, doesn't it?" he said as if he'd been reading my thoughts, "That's all we're gonna do. Show up, scare them, and no one's gonna get hurt. Especially not you."

His hand landed on my thigh while I continued admiring the pistol, extending my arm out and mocking a shooting position towards the windshield. I laughed softly to myself as any irrational stress I had began to vanish, all amplified by the control I felt that he helped pass on.

The car started before I could even gain awareness of my surroundings again, yet the sudden movement wasn't enough to snap me out of my daze. Having both life and death in my grasp at once was something I shouldn't have been given access to, the combination of that and my faint lack of sobriety being ultimately lethal.

I couldn't say it without sounding like a total psychopath, but I felt like I was on top of the world.

Several blurred moments passed until I was completely shocked out of my thoughts, the return to reality being a consequence of Rafe's chaotic brake. My eyes shifted, not expecting to have him already looking over at me, and the same smile of pure happiness appeared on my lips.

Emotions were never something I could easily control. When I was angry, the whole world was bound to know based on how loud I'd tend to yell. When I was sad, I pushed everyone away, resulting in me automatically wanting to push Rafe away from time to time. When I felt anything, everyone around me had to feel it too.

Now I was feeling something for him that I was finally ready to admit, and it'd be my dying wish for him to feel it too.

"Stop looking at me." I lightly shoved his arm, "You're gonna run the red again."

"Red lights make you look really pretty, I'll wait at them longer just so I can look at you." he admitted, ignoring my demand for his eyes to fix to the road and continuing to stare in my direction.

"So I wasn't pretty before?" I teased in attempts to catch him out on his phrasing.

"Don't say that." he leaned over to kiss me, aided by the lack of seatbelt on both our parts, "You were always pretty. Always will be."

Before we could get lost in the touch of our lips, the traffic light flashed green, making us laugh as Rafe scrambled to start the car up again. With the small moment we shared, every problem I started to pick out erased itself subconsciously, as I knew that even the greatest sum of stress was worth the bliss he'd bring me.

The radio consumed the rest of our journey, drowning out the comfortable silence with the sound of songs I'd surprisingly recognised. For his benefit and consideration that he'd most likely be embarrassed if I called him out, I quietly hummed along to the music, knowing there was obvious research that went behind the choice.

He cared, like he promised to do, so who was I to shout at him when he's trying his best?

"Wait, turn. Turn!" I gathered his attention quick enough for him to swerve onto the drive of Dave's Liquors.

"I thought you wanted to go to Barry's?" he recalled.

"Change of plan." I grinned. "I want you to meet someone."

After letting himself out of the car, Rafe opened my door with a mirrored smile, "Strange choice of location."

"Unique place for a hell of a unique man..." I trailed on, leading the boy by hand into the interior of the store. "Dave, your favorite customer's here!"

"Margaret? Did the doctors take your accent along with your money?" the bald man behind the till joked, maintaining the same straight-faced expression as normal.

"You may take my mother out of Alabama but you can't take Alabama out of her." I laughed along with him, directing Rafe and I into the fruit liquor aisle and grabbing a singular bottle of Peach Schnapps. "Can't take it out of me either, but I guess that makes two genes that I inherited from her."

Dave inspected the lonely drink I placed on the counter with a raised eyebrow, "Sounds less Southern and is only buying one bottle. What've you done to our Camille?" he pierced his eyes in Rafe's direction.

"Um..." he hesitated, intimidated by the man like I'd never seen before, "She's—"

"He's my boyfriend. Dave, meet Rafe. Rafe, meet the only other important man in my life." my hands gestured between them, interrupted by theirs shaking awkwardly.

I reached into the boy's back pocket, catching sight of a 20$ bill and sliding it across the surface. They continued to exchange strained eye contact as Dave totalled up the purchase, handing back the bottle and change.

"Ward's kid?" he looked Rafe up and down.

"Yes, sir." he muttered in response.

"Don't call me that. You're not in the army." the older man scoffed in his typically jokey manner which, by the scared look on his face, Rafe did not understand.

"Sorry, s—" he began before noticing his mistake, "Sorry."

"You better be." he tutted, "Listen, I see this one as my daughter. I watched her grow up with my own two eyes and, if you're anything like your father and you decide to hurt her one day, you're gonna wish you never saw the light of day. You hear me, son?"

The urge in me to burst out laughing was becoming stronger to contain. Dave kept his gaze sharply on Rafe as he nodded in response, not even the slightest hint of sarcasm in his stern face.

"I asked you a question." he clicked his fingers in demand for a verbal answer.

"Hear you loud and clear, sir." he continued nodding, unaware of his slip up until it had been spoken.

The man returned to his arguably less uptight self, "Get her home safe, or I'll make sure to keep to my promise."

"Thanks, Dave." I bit onto my bottom lip, holding onto any grasp of composure I had left as I carried us and the bottle out of the store, "'Till next time!"

The second I stepped out of the liquor store, my calm facade broke down completely, the pure laughter that escaped from my lips being something I was used to being embarrassed of. Because of how true to myself I was around him, there wasn't a single thing I could bother to keep hidden around Rafe.

A contrast to my loud self, the boy quietly sat back down in the car, not wasting any more time in driving us in the direction of the airstrip. I toned down my humorous reaction for his sake, knowing that he clearly wasn't finding fun in the same thing I did.

From observing him drive many times in the past, I knew he liked to keep his right hand free from the wheel, permitting me to take it into my hold. I locked our fingers together as a sign that I understood how he was feeling without needing to say it aloud; his dislike for spoken emotions was another aspect where we were proven to be alike.

"Can I tell you something when we go back home?" I spoke softly, tracing my thumb over the skin of his.

"Just say it now, I've kinda got a lot to do later." he replied back blunter than I expected, though I didn't expect him to grasp onto my faint clues so fast.

"It's important, I wanna prepare you for it." I covered our interlaced fingers with my free hand, the connection being torn apart by him moments later.

"Cami, if it was that important you'd be telling me now." the car came to a smooth halt, "You put the gun in there, right?"

With an underlying sigh, I leaned forward to open the glove compartment, my help not even being appreciated as Rafe reached out for the pistol himself. I peered out of the window to see us parked behind a rather large plane, secluded from the rest of the airstrip. The surreality of the situation was dawning on me all at once- and the fact that I didn't know half of his plans wasn't reassuring me any further.

"Are we going now or...?" I questioned.

"Why is there a cop car pulling in? What the fuck?" he disregarded my inquiry, his increased stress making my head snap back in the direction of the plane.

"You said it was just your dad and Sarah here?"

"That's what I thought. Shit, Camille, I need to go." the click of the gun's safety switch was enough for my heart to sink, each calculated move of his causing my chest to rise more and more.

"Let me go with you." I pleaded, almost whispering in hopes that volume made me sound convincing enough.

Propping myself up with my hands, I reached over to press my lips onto Rafe's, dismissed by the turn of his head that landed me against his cheek. I rolled my eyes and sat back down, fighting down the urge to scream at him as the car door closed and left me isolated.

He promised not to hurt me, yet it seemed that his words were simply empty. Though I'd been prone to hurting myself for years before, no amount of pain that I could've endured over time compared to the hurt I felt when I was finally ready to admit that I loved him.

That was what I wanted to tell him- what I deemed to be so important. The three unspeakable words that I finally had in my grasp, which slipped out the second he left me alone with nothing but the bottle of peach liqueur.

I loved him after everything he put me through, and somehow more after all of this. I loved him because of it. And this love was a love I knew I could never escape until my dying breath, yet I knew some part of me would still continue to love him even then.

Just as I was about to take the first gulp of alcohol to drown out my feelings, the blood-curdling sound that came from behind the plane secured all of my doubts and brought the dreaded conclusion to life.

A gunshot.

Rafe had fired the gun, and I knew at that very moment that I'd reached a point of no return.

Love was forever destined to be my doom- one that was now signed off with my admittance of the emotion.

Why did I love him if it was killing me to do so?