Page 9 of Dallas

“I’m parked over at the Expo.”

“Would it be okay if we just leave my car there? That way…”

“He won’t drive by the motel and see your car in the parking lot?”

“I just don’t know where he is. I feel like he’s everywhere. I know that isn’t true. He’s not a criminal mastermind. He’s actually a dumbass.” Anger spikes in my veins, sharp and hot. “I hate that more than anything. That he’s such a dumbass, and he’s managing to make me afraid again. I’m not a little girl anymore. He shouldn’t be able to scare me.”

“Hey,” Dallas says. “Everything’s hard enough without you being hard on yourself, okay? He knows you’re scared of him because he made you that way, and it’s not weakness for you to be afraid of someone who victimized you, who hurt you. But just so we’re clear, I’m not scared of him. And I’m armed.”

Dallas stands up, walks over to the register, and pays our bill. I take a deep breath and join him a moment later, walking with him out the door. It’s warm outside, the air dry and crisp. Crushed glass stars glitter in a deep velvet sky, and for a moment, I let myself bask in the miracle of it all. Ifound him. He knows who I am. Hecaresabout who I am. He wants to protect me.

Someday, I’m going to have to make it up to him for all of this. But right now, I’m just too broken, and I hate that more than I can say, but I’m a fighter. That’s the truth. I’ve been fighting ever since I was a little girl, and I’m smart enough to know when the fight has gotten away from me. If there’s a life preserver out there in the middle of the ocean, you just grab onto it. You can’t worry about whether or not you’re sharing an equal load with your rescuer.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and I followed him across the street, back toward the Expo. The parking lot is almost entirely empty now, and my car stands out like a sore thumb. We walk past it, headed back around the big arena to where there are stalls, stables, and trucks with horse trailers. It seems like this is where a lot of the cowboys choose to stay, but apparently not Dallas.

“You don’t sleep here?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t have a horse with me.”

Right. Because, of course, the ropers, the barrel racers, they have their own animals with them. Whereas a bull rider like Dallas draws his animal before the event. At least I’m pretty sure that’s how it works. I’m not a rodeo expert, but I did a little bit of cursory reading on it when I found out that’s what he did.

A little online stalking to feel closer to him felt benign. Again, I’m not great with how normal people connect.

“I like a comfortable bed.”

I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it than that. If what he really likes is to have a place to take a woman back to. I can’t explain the feeling that gives me. A strange sort of hot sensation that burns in the pit of my stomach.

It makes me want to growl like a bothered animal.

He belongs to me, at least that’s how it’s always felt. When I knew him, he was young, and none of that stood between us. But now I’m acutely aware of the fact that he’s a man, and an attractive one. Normal women were probably chomping at the bit to climb all over him. To beg for the cowboy to ride them.

I just want to grab onto him, sink my nails into him so he has to stay with me forever.

Thatisn’t normal. That’s batshit crazy, and if he had any idea how intense I’m feeling inside he’d probably have regrets about letting me go with him. A lot like finding a baby raccoon on the side of the road and discovering later it’s rabid.

I’m rabid. But maybe I can keep that part of myself hidden, at least for a while.

“This is me,” he says. If he has any idea of what I was thinking, he doesn’t indicate it. Instead, he simply opens up the passenger door to his pickup truck, and I climb up inside. He closes the door, and I’m enveloped in the silence. The safety.

I want to weep with relief.

He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the engine. The truck roars to life. It’s anicetruck.

“I take it the rodeo has done well for you,” I say.

“Yeah. I’ve done all right for myself.” He’s minimizing it, I know. Probably because I’m pitiful, and he doesn’t want to brag.

I realize that I know very little about his life. I had no idea that he’d found his father, not all this time.

“What’s your… What’s your family like?” I ask as he pulls the truck out of the parking spot, and onto the driveway that will take us out of the Expo grounds. “I’m just curious. I… This whole time I imagined that you’d stayed in care. I was heartbroken when I had to leave you behind.”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “I pretty much lost it when you left. And after that was when my dad found me. Like I said. I think I made his life hell there for a minute. But I didn’t really know how to be loved. I’m not sure that I do still, but I have no interest in making my dad’s life hell. Especially not when… I mean… My stepmother’s amazing. And the kids… My half-siblings, it’s great to have them, even though I’m not home with them. And they’re still little. Four and six.”

“Oh,” I say. “Theyarelittle.”

“How about you? You have siblings?”

“I think so. I think a couple of them are in care, but I’m not sure. I think my mom has a couple other kids she lost custody of, but they were older than me so I don’t know them. As far as my bio dad, I just don’t really know him. I don’t know for certain, but I feel like I heard that he had some kids.”

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