Bonnie and Clyde

Prologue

I remember

I remember when it finally went too far

Cal had lost it

I was alright when it was Alfred Wendal or Christian McCale.

But.....

This is a name I will never forget

Jordan Hamilton

He was just a kid

June 23 1975

Cal sat in a Victorian chair, it was placed in the middle of the room. His perfect blonde hair was not in its usual slicked back form. It was disheveled and sticking out in every angle... And matted with blood. With a stone face he looked at the blood stained knife as he twisted and flipped it in his hand. The waist coat he wore was unbutton and wrinkled with splotches of blood dancing across it. The white shirt he had on was just as covered in the poor boys blood. The cuffs of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows only to be replaced from finger tips to elbows with fresh blood. His eyes are focused on the knife as if it were a prize. Though occasionally, I catch him looking from the knife to the fire place, his stone face is replaced with a victorious smirk. As if he had made an historic triumph that was once thought impossible. His eyes then return to the knife and he continues to spin it.

Spin

Flip

Spin

Flip

Freeze

He grabs the knife by the hilt with the blade facing the floor and his eyes find me. I'm leaning against the door approximately twenty feet away from him. His eyes look me up and down as he bites his lip. The lust he has tends to stand at attention after a killing. The blood on our clothes, skin and floor fills him with a desire that can't be contained. His eyes darken, as he catapults the knife from his hand to the wall beside my head. I head the thud of the knife but my eyes never leave his. "You could have killed me with that." I say in a low voice. "Is that what you would have wanted?" I push myself off the wall and walk towards him slowly causing his impatience to build. Teasing him is something I enjoy, making him wait brings me my pleasure. My knees far touching his now and his eyes are still locked with mine. He stands, his lips are millimeters from mine. "I would never kill you," his hand moves to my face and his thumb rubs the blood by my ear around on my skin. "you're my partner in crime." He says. "And I need someone to take the fall when I'm caught." He smirks.

"What makes you think I'll take the fall for you?" I say.

His hand is removed from my face but he grabs the back of my thighs and hoists me up and pins me to the nearest wall. His lips find mine and he kisses my hard, like he needs this in order to survive. He drops me legs and removes my jeans. Only to grab me the same way, his sucks my neck leaving a mark. Letting the world know that I belong to him. His teeth then tug at my ear and he whispers. "Because you're mine and you will do exactly as I say." At this time he pushes himself into me again and again. Before I can realize what he's doing the rest of our clothes are off and we're on the blood soaked floor. My legs are hooked around his as he continuously thrusts himself into me. His face is in the crook of my neck, while one of my hands tangles itself into his hair the other is making marks on his back. Due to all the pleasure that is flowing through my body. He stops thrusting and I whimper, but he's far from done. He kisses all down my body. From my face, to my neck, then to my chest and breasts. He gives them attention kissing and sucking causing my back to arch into him. I can feel his lips turn up into a smirk.

He then continues on the path he started, kissing his way down my stomach. Once he reaches he destination all he does is blow on it, causing me to moan for him. He smirks and his lips meet their mark. I gasp when he licks me there, he continues until I climax again and again and again. Until my body is shaking, he then comes back up to my face and kisses me hard while pushing himself into me once more. I moan with pleasure, but it's my turn now. I flip him over and sit up, his eyes are filled with lust and satisfaction. Knowing that I will always be his. I ride him until we're both shaking with pleasure. Laying on the blood soaked ground, our hair matted, the blood on our bodies smeared.

He then sits up and looks at the wall. "That is how I know you will be taking the fall for me." I can hear the smirk in his voice. I still lay there as he leaves to take a shower and as he grabs our clothes to get rid of them. So there will be no evidence for the cops to find. I sit up and look at the fire place where we burned Michael Gerard. The rush that he got from his killing is nothing I haven't seen before. I get up and find the loose floor board where I stash my journal and pen. I open it and see the names of them all. I flip four pages and see that Christian McCale was the one before Michael. Flipping the pen between my fingers I try to place him but can't. Is he the one who had the wife from Georgia or was he the one who screamed the most? I place it in the back of my memory and write down Michael's name.

He's number...

52