Saving Dallas (32 page)

My phone rang int
errupting my thoughts and I saw it was Red.  I answered immediately planning to cuss her for lying to me, but instead I sobbed in her ear. 

“Dallas, just calm down and tell me what happened
,” she said soothingly.  I felt a little better just at the sound of her voice.
  How did she do that? 

“D-did you talk to L-Luke?” I stammered between sobs.

“Yes, all he said was he found you going through his stuff and told you to leave.”

“I-I didn’t go through his s-stuff
Red I swear!  I w-was just looking for my suitcase and th-there was a box sitting beside it with my name on it.  I thought it w-was my paperwork I took t-to Tupelo.” 
What the hell was Luke hiding that he was so worried about me finding anyway?

“So you didn’t go downstairs?”
she asked surprised. 

“What?  No, I didn’t even know he had a downstairs
,” I answered. 
So Luke did have a secret room
. 

“Ok, honey jus
t calm down, this is just a misunderstanding that’s all.” 
Ok, now I was mad
. 

“A misunderstanding?  He had pictures of me
Red! And he had my personal information like my fucking social security number!  If anyone deserves to be angry it’s me!”

“So you still don’t know, do you?”
Red asked, but I could tell the question was not meant to be spoken out loud. 

“Know what? 
Red I swear to God I will beat your fucking brains in if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on right now!” I screamed.  “If he wants to keep his club secrets that’s fine, but I’ll be damned if he keeps shit about me from me.” 

“Dallas, I’m not at liberty to tell you anything.  Mostly because I don’t know the whole story, but I promise I will tell Luke to call you
,” she said defeated. 

Luke was going to jump her ass for letting it slip
.  Oh well, serves her right for being an accomplice. 

“I don’t need you to do anything for me.  I can talk to Luke on my own.”  I hung up before she had a chance to respond. 
Fuck her.  I didn’t
need her any more than she needed me
.  I dialed Luke’s number and silently hoped it would go to voicemail, but of course he picked up on the second ring. 

“Dallas
,” he said calmly, too calmly. 

“Why do you have those pictures of me?” I asked trying to stay calm myself.

“You were not supposed to find those, but since you did, I will tell you….as soon as I get back on Tuesday,” he answered stiffly. 

“Oh no, you are going to tell me now.  I’m not waiting until Tuesday.  According to
Red I should have already known.” 

“Yes, you should have.  I was planning to tell you I just couldn’t find the right time.  I was going to tell you on Tuesday and show them to you myself, but you beat me to it
,” he said smoothly.  His tone was impassive and I envisioned him sitting on the couch wearing the face that matched it.

“Why did you do this to me?” I choked out.  I didn’t want him to hear me upset, but I couldn’t help it.  I needed to know why the only man I had ever loved chose to kill me inside.

“I never meant for it to go this far.”  I could hear the emotion seeping into his voice, although he tried to contain it.  “I have to go Dallas,” he said clearing his throat.  “I’ll see you on Tuesday and I’ll bring Neo and the things you left with me.  I’m sorry things turned out this way.”

I wanted to scream at him.  I wanted to run my car off the road so he would come to my rescue.  God had given me damsel-in-distress moments ever since I met him, yet when I finally needed one, it wasn’t there.  Luke had saved me numerous times.  He had saved me from cowboys and motorcycle gangs and DUI’s, but most of all he had saved me from myself.  I would thank him one day for what he had done for me, but right now, I just wanted to hate him.

I needed a drink-a strong one.  I stopped at Our Place-a small bar that served liquor just off the highway.  I knew I looked a wreck, but I didn’t care.  I walked inside with my face red and blotchy from my endless crying, wearing nothing but Luke’s basketball shorts, black t-shirt and my flip flops. 

The bar was almost empty, which wasn’t unusual for seven o’clock on a Friday night.  I ordered a shot of Jack from the bartender and threw it back, letting the liquor burn my throat and distract me from the ache in my chest.  I motioned for the bartender to keep them coming and before long, the pain was dulled and replaced with a buzz that had me lightheaded. 

The jukebox played an endless stream of country music, reminding me of the heartache that had summoned me here.  When the tips of my fingers were numb and my speech slurred, I decided it was time to head home.  I left the bartender a fat tip to silence the “Do you want me to call you a cab” speech and stumbled to my car.
  I sat in the driver seat looking numbly out of the windshield.  A movement to my left caught my eye.  A motorcycle sat in the shadows of the vacant parking lot next to me.  I knew it was probably one of Luke’s PROSPECTS and the thought sickened me. 

  It was almost nine when I pulled out of the parking lot,
and I knew that I had drunk too much, but all I wanted was to go home.  I tuned to a rock station on the radio and increased the volume to drown out the voices of Luke in my head. 

By the grace of God and cold air blasting from the air conditioner, I managed to make it home in one piece.  Not seeing Neo when I pulled up reminded me of Luke.  Walking into the library reminded me of Luke and the first time he kissed me.  My kitchen and counter and the stool on the end where he sat reminded me of Luke.  My bedroom, where I had danced for him, my shower,
and my radio-everything reminded me of Luke. 

I crawled into my bed and shut my eyes trying to think of brown cows and light bread and England
; anything to get my mind off of him.  But, when I thought of cows I thought of milk and the gallon we had drank from when he caught me in his Harley room. When I thought of light bread I thought of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we had shared only hours ago, and when I thought of England I thought of English which is the language that Luke spoke.  Nothing worked.  He was everywhere.  At some point, with the help of a bottle of Jack, I managed to doze into a restless slumber. 

Chapter 25

Two o’clock.  That’s what the red lights on the alarm clock next to my bed read when I sat up.  Something had woke me; a noise, a loud noise.  One I was familiar with, but had no desire to hear, yet my heart skipped a beat at the sound of it.  More than one, there was many.  I could hear them under my carport, the sound of the loud pipes echoing across the house.  I looked back over at my alarm.  One minute after two. 

At one minute after two I was making my way to the library to open the carport door and jump into Luke’s arms.  Two minutes after two.  My microwave flashed green numbers that let me know that I walked really slow
ly, or my clocks were different.  I wanted to document this.  I wanted to have it stored in my brain for my grandchildren to know the exact time their grandfather and I reunited with apologies and explanations.  Two minutes after two.  The large clock that hung on the wall read two minutes after two and the second hand was only at six.  Thirty seconds of time remained.  I had thirty seconds to make a memory that would be etched in my brain for years.  I would never get to have that memory. 

When the door burst open it was not Luke whose arms I would run into.  It was the arms of the man who had watched me
, the man who I had pulled a gun on, the man who wanted to take Luke’s life for reasons I didn’t know -- the man with the scar in the red and gray cut.

“Well look what we have here.”  The words that left his mouth were menacing, although he wore a smile on his face.  Three large men walked in behind him.  Each of them wore the same expression-hate.  My feet were frozen to the floor of the library. 
Maybe I was dreaming
. 
Maybe this was not really happening.
  “You remember me, don’t you Dallas?”  I couldn’t speak.  I couldn’t breathe.  I tried to nod my head, but it would not move.  “Well, I remember you.  Take a good look at me.  You are going to remember this face for the rest of your life, although I’m not sure how long that is going to be.” 

His words went in one ear and out the
other; although they did register and I took his advice.  He stood about six feet tall.  He had a stocky build with no hair on his face or his head.  I didn’t remember him being bald the last time I saw him.  The large scar that ran down his face drew the attention away from everything else.  I could tell that at one time he was a very good looking man
.
  He looked to be in his forties and was covered in tattoos that ranged from his neck to his fingers and everywhere in between that wasn’t covered in leather. 

“You like my scar?”
he asked amused.  I quickly diverted my eyes to something other than his face.  “Oh no, don’t look away now.  This scar is important to you.  Do you know why Dallas?  Because the day I got it your fate was sealed.” 

The evil in his voice was unlike anything I had ever heard.  It was as if he hated me, yet I had never done anything to this man that I could remember.  “Get her outside
,” he said so low that I almost didn’t understand him until I was grabbed by my arms and drug out the door.

My adrenaline kicked in and I suddenly remembered how to move.  My body thrashed.  I kicked and screamed and tried to bite anything that came in contact with me.  I managed to get a piece of flesh from someone’s arm and bit down hard. 

“You bitch!”
he yelled letting go of my arm to check his wound. 
I could taste the blood and saltiness of his skin on my tongue
.  When he let me go I was so shocked that I actually hurt him that I froze.  He grabbed my arm once again and back handed me with so much force I fell sideways causing the guy on my left to catch me before I hit the ground.  I felt blood trickling down my nose and into my mouth.  I could already feel the swelling of my right cheek.  My eyes watered as the realization of what was happening set in. 
They were going to kill me.

I put up as much of a fight as I could manage as they dragged me to the barn and flipped on the bright fluorescent light that hung from the ceiling. 

“Tie her up,” the guy with the scar ordered, throwing a length of rope at them
. 
I struggled harder this time. I screamed for them to stop, but my words fell on deaf ears.  I screamed for Luke and my only answering response was, “He can’t help you now.”  Another harsh blow landed on the right side of my face again and everything went dark
.

Cold water stunned me back into consciousness.  I was gasping from the shock of it
, and when I came to I noticed I was hanging by my arms from the rafters in the barn. 

“Wake up sleeping beauty.  I have a story to tell you.  I don’t like to be interrupted so Crazy here is going to shut you up with a little something called duct tape.”  He threw his head back and laughed at his humorless joke. 

This man was the one who needed the name Crazy.  Crazy stepped in front of me and pulled a piece of tape from the roll and placed it over my mouth.  I thought he would tear it off, but instead he wrapped it all the way around my head-twice.  I screamed through the tape.  I kept saying Luke’s name over and over.  No one could make out what I was saying, but I couldn’t stop screaming for him.  My right eye was now swollen shut and the one good nostril I had limited my breathing making my chest ache from the lack of oxygen. 

“Shut up!”  The man with the scar yelled at me.  I immediately silenced my incoherent screams at his demand.  “There, that’s better
,” he said sweetly.  “By the way my name is Frankie the Cutter.  I know you think I got it from this scar, but the truth is I get enjoyment out of cutting people,” he said laughing once again. 

He must have been on drugs of some sort, because only people in an insane asylum acted like this. 

“You sure are pretty Dallas.  I bet you have a smoking hot body.  It’s hot in here.   How about we relieve you of some of your clothes.”  He stepped closer and my screams began again.  “Hey, hey, hey.  No need to get upset.  It’s not like you are bashful are you?  I promise you, the more you scream the harder you are going to make it on yourself.”

His voice was so
sickenly sweet I would have vomited had my mouth not been taped shut.  My throat burned from screaming, but I couldn’t stop.  I was scared and panicked and my natural reaction was to scream. It was the only defense I had left.  Frankie placed his hands over his ears and began stomping his feet on the ground.  “Shut up!  Shut up!  Shut up!” 

Crazy walked up to me and pulled a knife out of his pocket and stuck it to
my throat.  I stopped screaming, scared to move an inch in fear that he would cut me.  “The man said shut up, so I suggest you keep that shit down,” he whispered to me as if he didn’t want Frankie to hear.  He slid the knife away from my throat, but before he could put it away Frankie walked up behind him.