Killer || m.g.c

0.6

Bonnie Jackson.

After almost three hours in the car, I was relieved to stop at the road side cafe. Michael parked the car and sighed, pulling out his keys and turning to me.

"Please don't run." He sighed. I had considered running, of course, but a pinch in my arm and new buttons on my jacket suggested that even if I did, he'd know where I was. I rolled my eyes at him and got out of the car, acting like a stereotypical grumpy teenager as I made my way inside.

The cafe smelt of coffee beans and apple pie. The scents hit me like a tone of bricks and made me smile. Only three or four people were here, two of which were staff. The bell above the door tinkled as Michael followed me inside.

"You go get a seat, I'll grab some food. Want anything?" He said as he got out his wallet.

"Diet Coke for me, yeah?" I said as I walked away, desperate to be separated from him.

I sighed a shaky breath as I sat in a booth the furthest point away from people. My lip trembled and hands shook with fear and anticipation.
Was this it for me? Was my life going to end in the hands of this man? Will I ever see my family again? My friends?

I hastily wiped a tear from my cheek, biting my lip to stop any sobs. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths until the tightness of my chest and the feeling in my throat passed.

I looked up towards Michael as he ordered the food and stood to the side, continuously glancing at me to, I assume, make sure I was still there. Once the food was prepared and given to him, he walked towards the booth I was in, tray in his hands.

He placed the food in front of him and passed me my drink which I held close to me body. I shivered, finally feeling to effect of a setting sun and lowering temperature.

"Want my jacket?" Michael asked, taking a pause from unwrapping his food. I did nothing but glared, making him roll his eyes before he continued opening.

It was silent between us as he ate. The waitresses wore bright blue, short sleeved, knee length dresses with white aprons. One wore her hair up in a messy bun while the other had a slicked back pony tail. I thought they looked quite stereotypical for their line of work. They worked behind a white tiled bench which sat customers opposite too them. While the seats set were for eight, only two were there, a few chairs between them.

"You look real nice, you know." Michael said nonchalantly. I turned to him and frowned, scrunching my nose. He scoffed and wiped away food from his chin before speaking. "Not when you pull that face." I rolled my eyes. We didn't talk as he finished his food.

"Let's play a game." Michael said as he leant back in his chair.

"No." I spat, placing my drink on the table and crossing my arms. I looked away to avoid eye contact.

"C'mon," he groaned. "Be fun!" I just glared at him again. He gave me a look and I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"Fine." He smiled at my answer. "What do you have in mind?"

"Twenty questions." He said without hesitation.

"What, you a fuck boy or something?" I scoffed. He rolled his eyes, brushing off my comment.

"Fine, we'll play something else then. What do you want to play?" He said, laying his head against the table.

"Nothing. I don't want to play anything with you because you are a murderer" I said, whispering the last part. All expression on Michael's face fell as he stood up.

"C'mon." He said sternly. I gulped, hoping that maybe I could swallow my fear, but to no avail. I followed him outside the cafe and around the corner. My hands shook with suspense and I held my drink tightly. I watched Michael's back flex through his shirt as he stretched his shoulders as he walked.

"What're we doing?" I asked. He spun round and threw me against the wall by the shoulders. I groaned and focused on breathing, my heart pumping much faster than before and my chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Are you stupid?!" He exclaimed, pacing around in front of me. I didn't say anything, blinking away any tears instead.

He threw his head back, groaning, before staring straight at me. He took a few steps forward then put a hand next to my head to lean his body against and another around my neck.

"You don't mention anything," he said before squeezing around my neck a little tighter. "In public places."

He stood back and let go of me. I took multiple deep intakes of air, trying to make up for the ones I'd lost before. I touched my neck gingerly and nothing hurt, so I'm assuming that I'll be bruise free.

"Oh, who cares? No one heard." I said, trying to brush off my mistake.

"But what if they had, Bonnie?" He said.

My name sounded sickly when it fell from his lips. He no longer said it with love or passion, but instead as if I was a nuisance, a burden he had to carry. I guess I was, actually. He didn't need me here, or want me here.

I remembered now the admiration he had for me not two days ago. Where did that go? How did he go from liking me to hating me so quickly?

"Why do you hate me?" I voiced my confusion. He looked quite stumped at the question.

"I don't hate you." He said slowly, as if thinking over every word and syllable before he said it. "But you hate me and I'm not going to waste my time trying to make you like me. I have bigger problems to be concerned about."

I didn't say anything. Silence fell between us as he glanced over my features. I did the same to him, taking in everything from his eyebrow piercing to his worn out converse.

We were brought out of our trance by the distant sound of the cafe bell tinkling. I watched in confusion as Michael slapped his cheeks before coming closer to me. His hands rested on my hips and his lips landed on mine as he kissed me, but I didn't return the act. He pulled away when he heard a cough and I turned to look at a man, who I assumed was the cafe's chef judging by his attire.

"You two alright out here?" He asked, avoiding eye contact as he obviously felt as awkward as I did in this moment.

"Oh, we're fine. Sorry, we'll just go." Michael told him. I noticed his cheeks were pink and realised now he'd slapped his cheeks to fake blushing. His hand wrapped around my wrist as he pulled me past the man and to the car. I got in after him and did up my seat belt.

"What.." I trailed off, still confused. Michael started the car and stared forward as he began driving.

"Shut up and drink your diet soda."