Saving Dallas Forever (Saving Dallas 3)

“Speaking of which, are you still paying them?” I asked, thinking that if they were still receiving payment, then maybe it was me who should be in charge of handling it. That would get the Mayor out of my personal life for good.

“No, Dallas. I stopped paying them when you turned twenty-five. That was the deal.” I mentally calculated the time. My birthday was less than a month away. I would be twenty-seven.

“Then why did they continue to stalk me? That was almost two years ago.” My brain was in overdrive. I was twenty-six. Stacy would not benefit from killing me. The deal was, if something was to happen to me before I turned twenty-five, he would get the land.

“I’m a fucking mayor, Dallas. A business man. Not Oprah or Dr. Phil, but considering the shit you’ve been through, I’ll tell you because it’s obvious you aren’t bright enough to figure it out yourself. Luke loves you. He fell hard for you. He did it because he knew he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to you. Frankie was his fuck-up. He should have taken care of him a long time ago. Instead, he kept an eye out for you, even when he wasn’t getting paid. You better be glad you have him. Frankie had a bounty on your head, girl. He wanted you dead and would have used any source close enough to you to get what he wanted. I hope that fucker is dead. If he ain’t, you better watch who you let in. It’s a tough world out there, and desperate times call for desperate measures. Frankie’s got connections and he’s got money. You’ll do well to remember that.”

“Let’s say he is dead. Then what? Am I safe?” Maybe this wasn’t a conversation that should be happening over the phone, but it was one that couldn’t wait. If I was still at risk, then the people I loved were too.

“This is just my opinion, but a man like Frankie,” he paused, and the silence was deafening. I already knew the answer, but I needed confirmation. “Just watch your back, Dallas. Men like him will stop at nothing to get what they want.” I closed my eyes in defeat. The feeling of being safe and the thought of Frankie no longer being a threat had vanished completely. I said my goodbyes to Paul, noting the pity in his voice, as our conversation came to a close. I should have known that killing Frankie wouldn’t be as simple as pulling the trigger. Even from the grave, he was going to haunt me.

I picked at my food, thoughts of should I or should I not tell Luke running through my brain, over and over. He had enough shit to deal with right now. I missed him, but the thought of him being away from me gave me a sense of peace. If someone did come looking for me, at least he would be out of the line of fire. As the evening descended, and the work I had laid before me became nothing more than words on paper, I decided to call it a night. I couldn’t figure this shit out on my own, and my ally, Red, was no longer an option. I couldn’t trust her enough with this information, although she was the one I knew could most help me. Lindsey appeared in the doorway of my office, looking just as tired as I felt.

“Wanna call it a night?” she asked, flopping herself down onto the leather chair in front of my desk. I nodded my head, still too deep in my own thoughts to speak. “You know, if you need to talk about something, I’m here. I know you better than anyone. This,” she said, motioning with her finger between the two of us. “Hasn’t really had time to bloom into a full friendship flower, but with a little water we will grow.” I laughed at her metaphor.

“Friendship flower, huh?”

“Friendship flower,” she mouthed, propping her feet on my desk and leaning back.

“What would you say if I told you that there are people who know me better than you?” I asked, mirroring her position by leaning back in my own chair, and crossing my ankles on top of my desk.

“First, I would say that is impossible. Nobody knows you. Second, I would ask where you got those heels because I love them.”

“It’s not impossible. Luke got paid to protect me from a man named Frankie the Cutter for five years. The jig was up when I turned twenty-five, but apparently, Luke had fallen for me from a distance, and continued to look out for me, even though he wasn’t getting paid. Neiman Marcus.”

“Who is Neiman Marcus?” She asked, confused.

“That is the store where I got the heels.” I sat waiting for a reaction of surprise and shock, but instead got a knowing nod.