Saving Dallas Forever

by Kim Jones

  “Luke never should have left you like this.” The slight widening of my eyes at his comment confirmed his accusation. “I’m not stupid, Dallas. I knew Luke had gotten in touch with Jeff and I knew what his plan would be before he concocted it. He is a fool if he thought for even a minute that he could outsmart me. I am the Alpha and the Omega, Dallas. I am the beginning and the end. God himself doesn’t even reign over me. Luke is a fucking idiot to leave your fate in the hands of someone as unstable as Crazy, and, because of that, look what you have been through. Those people are savages, Dallas,” he spat, standing and stomping around the room as he continued his rant, fueled with rage and hate. Just the sight of him made me sick. He was responsible for this, yet he blamed Luke. “Luke Carmical will never amount to more than what he is; a pathetic waste of air that rides a Harley and plays in the minors. I own the fucking world, Dallas. I have it at my fingertips. The people you have been slumming it with are here for only one reason, because people like me need to step on them to get to the top. So, you tell me now Dallas, in the game of life, who will you choose? Who will win: A man who can give you the world on a silver platter, or a man who can only make false promises, while he drags you from one disgustingly contaminated clubhouse to another?” I looked at Charlie, who now stood several feet from me. His words had cut me deep and it was like salt in the wound, as I played them over and over in my head. I knew he was aware of Luke’s plan, we were counting on it. I also knew how much he hated the club, only because they posed a threat to him, and the truce he had made long ago wouldn’t allow him to do anything about it. The terms he used when he spoke of my family only made my decision easier. I was once like Charlie. I had believed that I was on top of the world, looking down at the people below me, silently thanking them for allowing me to use their lives as stepping stones. But one thing I was not guilty of was blasphemy. Charlie felt superior to God. He considered himself untouchable even by the Almighty himself. He had evaded the inevitable for years, but this time divine intervention would make its presence known in the life of Charlie Lott. If he wanted to portray the role as Alpha and Omega, then I would introduce him to the angel of death. As the cold metal of my gun filled my hand, I answered his question right before the back of his head exploded, as the bullet flew through his skull.

  “Luke wins.”

  Chapter 26

  Dallas

  It took a moment for the goons to realize what had just happened. As they watched Charlie’s body collapse to the floor, I took the opportunity to train my gun on them. This was something I had not mentally prepared for, but I let Luke’s voice guide me, even though he was miles away.

  “If you have to pull your gun, fire. Don’t ever show it unless you plan to use it. If you do, get out of there as fast as you can. Even in the worst parts of town, someone will report gunfire. Keep your mind focused on your target, but once you squeeze that trigger, it’s over and you need to focus on your next move. You can do this, baby. Now, shoot the target and move to the next. Don’t let anyone or anything distract you. Stay in the zone and stay in control.”

  “I’m going to walk out of here now,” I said, standing on my wobbly legs, forcing them to hold me up. “I suggest the two of you do the same. Don’t follow me and don’t come looking for me. If you aren’t aware of Charlie’s orders about excluding me from harm, then I suggest you get acquainted with the man who is now in charge.” The black man eyed me warily, wondering how I was aware of such confidential information. “To answer the question that you refuse to ask, Charlie is the one who shared that useful piece of information, and it was a fatal mistake.” Charlie had informed Luke that no matter my transgressions, his army had specific orders that no harm was to come my way. He forgot to add a clause that stated it was null and void if I took his life. Like I said, divine intervention.

  “It was a fatal mistake, and a very stupid one. As Charlie’s second, I can assure you that no harm will come your way. You are free to go Miss Knox.” I took a second to wipe my fingerprints from the arm of the chair, before I made my way to the door. The men stepped aside and I nervously walked past them, afraid that the goon who looked quite pleased to now be running things might not be as faithful to his word as Charlie had been. When my feet hit the concrete sidewalk, I stuffed my gun in the back of my pants, pulled my hood up over my head, and attempted to run as fast as my stiff muscles would allow. There were no cops in sight as I looked around nervously, having to remind myself of my next plan of action. I was not in the clear just yet. I had to get away from the scene and meet Luke before a certain time. If I was not at his hotel by noon, he would come looking for me. The last thing we needed was for him to be seen anywhere around the scene of the crime. I was thankful for the thunderstorm that was brewing. The light shower of rain was helping to wash the grime from my body, as I hobbled down the block, keeping my head down as much as possible as my eyes focused on the stop signs in front of me. I would not get sidetracked. I would not allow my mind to think of anything, but my next move. I was to go to the third stop sign and turn left. The light shower became a heavy downpour as the heavens opened, and the flood gates were released. The sounds of sirens in the distance helped to urge my stubborn muscles to work harder, so I could move faster. By the time I rounded the corner at the third stop sign, I was running. My feet splashed through the puddles of water as the cold, hard rain beat down on me. In a matter of minutes, I was running down the stairs of the subway station and out of the rain. I found the ladies restroom on the right and ran inside, going to the fourth stall to find it occupied. I waited patiently, keeping my head down, so as not to draw attention to myself. I counted to ten in my head, remembering Luke’s words as I began to feel anxious.

  “Don’t allow yourself time to think. When you find yourself in a situation where you have to wait out some time before your next move, do something simple that doesn’t require a lot of focus. Say your ABCs or count to twenty. Repeat this until you can move forward. If you think, you will get upset- allowing time for panic to set in. If you’ve made it out of the room, you’re on the homestretch. Don’t fuck it up over something stupid. Be patient. Keep your head down and don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself. If you engage in conversation with someone, it will throw you off. Ignore people. It’s a big city. They are used to it.”

  When the door to the stall finally swung open, I waited for the woman to leave, before stepping into the stall and locking the door behind me. I squatted down, finding the loose tile behind the toilet and removing it with ease. Inside the hollow space was a small, black bag about the size of a clutch purse. I opened it, my eyes ignoring everything else in the bag as I searched for the key with the yellow tag. I found it, flipping it over to find #19 inscribed on it, and zipped the bag, placing it into the front pocket of my hoodie as my hand clutched tightly to the key. I replaced the tile and exited the stall, avoiding the mirror that lined the wall in front of me. I walked back up the steps leading to the main road, and took a right, walking quickly until I was forced to stop at an intersection. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15, as soon as the crosswalk signaled for me to go, I was off again. At the second intersection, I took a right and shielded my eyes from the rain as I looked up. The balconies overlooking the street confirmed I was in the right place. Number nineteen, third door on the right, was my next destination. I pulled the hand that still clutched the key from my pocket, and inserted it into the lock. I stepped inside, locked the door behind me, and went in search of the bathroom, as Luke’s voice reminded me of why I was here.

  “Your goal is to not leave a trace. We don’t want any stones unturned. The chances of you being tied to this are slim, but we aren’t taking any chances. You want to distance yourself from the scene, get rid of anything that can tie you to it, and make sure you have an alibi as to where you were. You own an apartment in Atlanta. Make sure they know you are there. Keep your voice calm, make the call and create the problem. Be sure to do or say something familiar, use
the tone of voice you would if the problem had actually occurred, but don’t say too much. Get to the point, get off the phone and remember, once you hang up you only have fifteen minutes.”

  I pulled a hand towel from beneath the sink, threw it in the toilet and flushed, holding my breath until the toilet became clogged, and water began filling up the bowl. I walked to the kitchen, retrieved the phone from the wall, and made a call to the maintenance office.

  “This is Dallas Knox,” I said, my voice coming out strong, confident, and laced with the slightest hint of bitchiness. “I have an appointment to show one of my apartments and I walked in to find the bathroom flooded. Something seems to be lodged in the toilet. I’m going to need someone here to fix it. I have already turned the water off and cancelled my showing.”

  “Yes, Miss Knox. We will get someone on that right away.”

  “While you’re at it, call me a taxi. I have scheduled to show another property while you fix the problem here.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I apologize for the inconvenience. We have you scheduled for a twelve o’clock showing. We should have performed a final sweep. It must have been overlooked.”

  “It’s fine. Just get someone up here after I leave.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Your taxi will be here in fifteen.”

  I hung up the phone without a goodbye, something I was known for, and headed back to the bathroom. I trudged through the growing puddle of water, grabbing a washcloth on my way to the shower. I opened the curtain and wrapped it around the pole so it would not get wet. I removed my filthy, wet clothes and turned on the water, being sure to use lukewarm as not to fog up the mirror. I took several gulps of water, soothing my dry throat and quenching my thirst. I scrubbed my body with the washcloth, using the shampoo that was used as a display for soap. By the time I counted to 150, I was clean. I stepped from the shower, into the running water that was now flowing into the hallway. I grabbed two towels from the cabinet and used one to wipe the remnants of water from the shower, making sure to wipe down the shampoo bottle as well. I grabbed my clothes, replaced the curtain, turned off the water to the commode and made my way to the bedroom, drying my feet before I entered. I pulled the large duffel bag from under my bed and threw on an outfit consisting of a clean pair of jogging pants, hoodie, and tennis shoes. I flipped my head over, piling my hair into a wet ball and stuffed my wet clothes, towels, and washcloth in the bag before throwing it over my shoulder and walking back to the front door. I threw the hood over my head, opened the door, and stepped back into the rain, before sliding across the seat into the taxi that waited for me.

  “Where to ma’am?”

  “Windsor Bed and Breakfast.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “How long before we arrive?”

  “We should be there around noon.”

  At 11:59 we turned onto the street leading to our destination and I had a wad of twenties in one hand and a key to “The Sunset Lodge” in the other. Once the car had stopped, I handed the money to the man over the seat and stepped out into the pouring rain, which impaired my ability to see. I ran down the cobblestone walk ways, eyeing each wooden sign that was perfectly placed in the flowerbed outside each individual cottage. By the time I made it to the room, I feared I was too late. As I turned the key to unlock the door, I prayed that he was still here.

  Inside the beautiful room that was decorated in light, pastel colors, I found Luke sitting on the edge of the enormous bed at its center. His elbows rested on his knees as they bounced impatiently, awaiting my arrival. Where I counted numbers and said my ABCs to keep my thoughts from straying, Luke used music. I don’t know if it was the song choice, or the way his face looked as the pain disintegrated and was replaced with a look of relief. Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through my body or the realization that everything was over, and we were back together with nothing left to tear us apart. Whatever it was, had me desperate for him as I stood by the door, the water dripping from my drenched clothes and onto the floor. When he stood from the bed, I launched myself at him, my wet body colliding with his, hard as stone, as he embraced me in his arms. He pushed my wet hair, which lay stuck to the sides of my face, and neck out of his way as his mouth claimed mine in a feverish, passionate kiss. His lips moved quickly over my face, hurriedly, but reverently, kissing each exposed area. He lowered me to the bed, his body covering mine as he made quick work of removing the clothes that separated us. When I was naked beneath him, reveling in the feeling of skin on skin as his body heat radiated from him, showering me with his warmth, his frantic pace slowed, and in that moment, he told me everything I needed to know in a single, unhurried kiss that wasn’t broken, until the need for us to breathe overpowered our need for that significant connection. When he slid inside me, his pace slow and determined, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as the feeling of him completely filling me and reaching through to my soul replaced everything that wasn’t in this particular earth shattering moment. As his hips moved in tune with Counting Crows’ song “Colorblind”, his eyes penetrated mine. He kept his face close to my own, catching each whimper and moan that escaped my mouth with his mouth. When the passion of our lovemaking couldn’t get any stronger, when the feeling of absoluteness had reached its peak, Luke’s words took me to a place in the heavens, higher than I ever could have imagined.

  “Marry me, Dallas.”I looked into his eyes, overflowing with love and compassion for me. His movements never slowed, as he pushed into me, over and over, putting everything he couldn’t say in words into measured strokes as he circled his hips, his eyes full of hope and promise never leaving mine. “Marry me. Let me spend forever making you the happiest, most loved woman in the world.” His voice was low and breathy, wrapping around my heart and sealing it with his promises. There would never be another day in my life on this planet that could make me feel as cherished as I did in this moment. Before my climax came, before the earth moved and shattered around me, I gave him my answer with a single word, but it was the promise and security he found in the depths of my eyes that told him everything he needed to know.

  “Yes.”

  Saving Dallas Forever

  Epilogue

  Luke was just as anxious to make me his wife as I was to become it. He had proposed four months ago, and we had agreed that the first Saturday in April would be the day. The venue was perfect. We would be getting married at the Abbey, a bed and breakfast I owned in Tupelo. The historical mansion was such a beautiful place that the only decorations required were the fresh flowers that I placed sparingly around the grand room, where the ceremony would be held. A huge staircase centered the room, and the nuptials would take place at the top. Jackie, Gladean, and Pearl, three of the employees at the Abbey, were working feverishly in the kitchen, preparing the food for the reception. Stacy (the man who I considered an uncle, but had also accused of trying to kill me) and I had shared a drink together the night before. Ironic I know, and I was glad to see he held no ill will toward me, not that he should, because there was no way in hell I would ever give him a reason to. Some things were just better left unsaid. He, like Jackie, Gladean, and Pearl, had been working his ass off to ensure everything was ready for this evening.

  The ceremony would be dedicated to, and in honor and memory of, War, a fallen brother who had lost his life on the night I was attacked. His service not only to me, but to the club, would forever be remembered and a shadow box filled with a replica of his cut and a single precious item, would be hung in the clubhouse as a reminder of his sacrifices. The body of War had never been recovered and Luke refused to hold a funeral, in the hope that he was still alive. But Jeff (my ex-boyfriend, who dumped me for a one-night stand with a chick who worked at Arby’s, compliments of Regg, and was a key factor in the takedown of Charlie) was not the useless piece of shit I remembered, and had informed Luke that Crazy and Dennis had confirmed War’s life was taken from him the same night he went missing. Jeff did not partake in the killing nor was he informed of it a
t the time. Luke still wasn’t convinced that he was gone, but Ronnie was going to talk to him, or so he said. Jeff was told to disappear, and he did just that. He was last seen driving a Honda.

  I finally got my trip to the beach. Luke and I left the morning after ‘operation take down Charlie’, after the news confirmed his death. Two eye witnesses claimed to have seen two men who had been staying at the hotel drag Charlie from an SUV and force him into their room. Less than ten minutes later, they heard gunshots and called the police, who ruled it as a fatal shootout between three men, resulting in all of their deaths. Charlie had a whole twenty seconds of fame before a cute kitten dancing for a treat stole his spotlight. Fiji was beautiful. We were there a total of two days before I got stomach flu. It took Luke a whole day to convince me that no one was trying to kill me. He said everyone who had any issues with me, or with anyone I was close to, was dead. This brought up the subject of what had really happened in that hotel room after he left. Our silence seemed to tell one another that we didn’t want to talk about it, but he finally asked, so I told him. I never uttered the words “I killed Charlie”, because that would make him an accessory; he had taught me that. So, instead of actually telling him, I simply said ‘Plan B.’ After my forty-eight hour stomach flu, I actually got to enjoy myself. We walked on the beach, snorkeled, rode jet skis, swam, fucked, and ate, and Luke bought me a ridiculous solitaire, princess-cut diamond. All of this happened in one day. After I received my ring, I suddenly felt homesick. I asked Luke if he would be mad if we went home early. Of course he wasn’t and we left the next morning. We flew into New Orleans, and when we stepped off the plane, I was miraculously cured of my homesickness, so we spent the remainder of the week in Lake Charles. I thought I’d played it really well, but Luke was on to me. When I burst through the door of the clubhouse, I did not greet my sisters nor did they greet me. The first words spoken were “let me see.” Yeah, I probably should have thought that one through. Luke wasn’t mad, though; I made it up to him.