Saving Dallas Forever (Saving Dallas 3)

“Pull the fucking trigger, Dallas! Do it now!” Frankie screamed at me from his place on the floor. He was on his knees, begging me to take his life. I didn’t understand why he wanted to die so bad, or why he so desperately wanted me to be the one to do it. “Hurry the fuck up! She’s coming!” Sweat poured from his face and I reached forward, wiping it with my hand. I realized then that it was not sweat rolling down his cheeks, it was tears. I touched his face again, removing the moisture, but before I could wipe my hand on my leg to get rid of it, he was covered again. “There she is! You are too fucking late! You are too late, you stupid bitch!” He was screaming at me so loud that I covered my ears with my hands, the gun falling to the ground with a loud thud. I watched as Frankie’s eyes focused on something behind me, and I turned to see Red standing there with a piece of rope in her hand.

“Scream and I might let you live,” she said, but her eyes were not on Frankie; they were on me. “Scream!”

I awoke with a jolt, my eyes trying to focus on my surroundings. The image of Red’s gaping mouth demanding I scream was still visible in my head. My throat hurt, and it took me a moment to realize that I really was screaming. I clasped my hands over my mouth as the door to Luke’s bedroom was thrown open and a herd of people pushed inside, with Red leading the pack. Her face was twisted in horror as she ran toward me. As soon as she was in reach, my hand lashed out and slapped her across the face, stopping her in her tracks. I only had a second to see the shock in her eyes, before she was not so gently pushed to the side, and Luke was in front of me.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here,” he chanted, as he pulled me to him.

“What’s wrong with her?” I heard Logan ask from the door. He was my undoing. I cried loudly into Luke’s shoulder. I wailed like a wounded puppy as tears flooded my face, and my body shook. I took deep breaths, each one sucked in loudly and never enough to fill my lungs. The room was quiet now, except for my cries, Luke’s whispers of “shhhh” and the sound his hand made, as he rubbed and patted my back.

Rub up. Pat, pat.

Rub down. Pat, pat.

Rub up. Pat, pat.

Rub down. Pat, pat.

I forced my mind to concentrate on the steady rhythm that flowed in time with his gentle back and forth rocking. I let his motions soothe me as I allowed all the events of the past few days to leave my body via a wail and a tear. My mind didn’t need a reason for me to have a breakdown. It was long overdue. I didn’t think about anything other than Luke’s continuous pattern across my back, the rocking of our bodies and the whispers coming from his mouth. I cried for a long time. In this moment, I was making up for all the times I had held it in and stayed strong. Every bad experience in my life, every worry in my heart, and every horrible nightmare that had me waking up screaming was being dealt with. Sometimes I guess you just need a good cry. Even when my eyes were dry, my body was still and my breathing was normal, I let Luke hold me. I let him protect me from my fears and my past. My body was tired. My mind was a mess, and I felt myself slipping into a place where I longed to be. A place of peace.

Luke

Dallas was a fucking wreck. The nightmares, the kidnapping, the lies, the club… they had finally broken her. I wondered how long it would take her to deal with Frankie’s death. She was just trying to be too strong, and trying too hard to prove to everyone that she could handle everything. My girl didn’t like to show weakness, but this morning, she left nothing on the table. I held her, rocking her fragile body, as I let her fall to pieces in my arms. When she cried herself unconscious, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. Women. Sometimes I guess they just need a good cry. Now I sat looking down at her, asleep and resting peacefully in my bed. Her eyes were red and puffy, her lips chapped and slightly parted. Yesterday’s make-up still covered her lashes, a result of a shower that had been intended to wash away her worries, not the residue of the day’s filth. She still looked fucking perfect.