Making the Cut (Saving Dallas 2)

He let go of me and walked out. I stared at the bedroom door that he just walked out of with a feeling of emptiness inside me. What was wrong with me? He needed me. My man needed me. This club needed me, and I was so caught up in my own selfishness that I refused to see what was happening in front of my face. Old memories blossomed in my mind and I was reminded of what it felt like to love, and care for someone. My situation with Frankie was a devastating, life altering event, but I would do it a thousand times over if I knew it would protect my friends. I scrambled for my phone beside the bed and found Red’s number.

“Hello,” Red said, sounding completely annoyed and not at all like she had just been kidnapped.

“Hey! It’s Dallas,” I wasn’t sure what to say. “Are you okay?” seemed like a very idiotic question.

“Hey, Dallas. Yes, I am fine. No, I am not hurt, and no, I don’t need to talk about it. But, if it makes you feel better, we will,” she said like we were talking about her experiencing an embarrassing moment instead of one that involved her being held in the trunk of a car against her will.

“Oh, uh okay. Well, if you need anything, I’m here,” I muttered into the phone, not sure how else to respond to that.

“Thanks hun, but I’m fine. I swear. It was a bunch of pussies that snagged me and I knew they wouldn’t cut my heart out with a spoon. They seemed pretty anxious to get rid of me. I was pissed.” Wow. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Maybe we can lay out again.” That sounded wonderful, although I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to leave the house. “Sounds good. I’ll check with Luke and make sure that’s okay.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Dallas?”

I smiled at her words. I knew she was only joking, but I could hear the approval in her voice. I needed to get off the phone. I was digging too deep into the whole “my Dallas” comment.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said and disconnected.

I could feel eyes on me and I turned to see Luke standing in the doorway. His shirt was off and his hands were shoved deep into his jean pockets. I didn’t care if he made me crawl around on all fours and wear a ball gag, there was no way I was going to do anything that would jeopardize me seeing him every day of my life. I wasn’t sure where to go from here. I needed to apologize, but I wasn’t sure what for. If Luke would have told me the extent of the situation before he left, he would have scared me enough to keep me indoors. Instead, he just said, “stay inside.” I then realized that he didn’t tell me because he didn’t want to scare me. He knew if he told me what happened and then left, there was no telling what I would have done. The thought made me want to go to him, but I was not very good at rejection. What if he didn’t want me anymore? I mean, Luke could have any woman he wanted. One who wouldn’t bitch at him, or not do what he asked. If I wanted to keep Luke, I needed to change me-or not change me, but uncover the part of me that I knew still existed, but was buried deep inside.

He stared at me across the room, his face completely unreadable. It was me who had gotten us into this situation, and it was me who was going to have to take the first step. I started towards him, and I half expected him to move, or hold his hand out to me to stop me. He did none of these things. I tried to search his eyes for some sort of sign, but he gave nothing away. He would make an excellent poker player. When I was only inches from him, I stopped. I could smell his delicious scent and it was so intoxicating that I had to remind myself that I walked over here to tell him something, not to jump his bones.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the way I acted and I’m sorry about what happened to Red and I’m sorry that I disappointed you. I’ll try to do better,” I paused, having to take another deep breath just to finish. This was harder than I imagined, yet easier than I deserved. “I just don’t want you to leave.” I meant it to come out stronger, but instead it was barely a whisper.

Luke’s face never faltered. He didn’t sweep me off my feet and tell me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me. He didn’t give me his signature smirk or smile at me with those beautiful lips. I was starting to get a little panicky, when he pulled his hand out of his pocket and grabbed mine, then leaned in and kissed my forehead.