Page 51 of Twisted Violet

My chest tightens.

She’s still here, still living inside me, still waiting for the world to prove just how cruel it can really be.

I blink the thought away and force myself to focus.

Ollie’s out there and Dallas needs me.

“He’s probably somewhere familiar,” I say, scanning every shadow, every sidewalk. “You always take him to the same places, right?”

Dallas nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I do.”

I chance a glance at him.

His jaw is clenched. His eyes are darting from street to street like he’s chasing ghosts.

“The playground,” I blurt. “The one by the laundromat. You told me you like to take him there after errands. He loves that place, right?”

Dallas blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, he does.”

He swerves the wheel without hesitation and guns it for the playground.

We find him there five minutes later, sitting under the jungle gym, tail wagging, tongue out, completely unbothered as he chews on a disgusting-looking stick.

“Ollie!” Dallas shouts.

Ollie perks up, lets out a bark, and barrels straight for us.

Dallas drops to his knees and scoops him up, wrapping his arms around him like a lifeline. “Jesus Christ,” hemutters, voice thick. “You little asshole. Don’t do that again.”

He holds Ollie like he’s more than just a dog.

Like he’s family. Like losing him would’ve taken something irreplaceable from his life.

I wonder what it would feel like to be held like that. To be loved like that.

I inch a few feet back, giving them space, but as soon as he spots me, Ollie has other plans.

Just as Dallas finishes putting his collar and leash back on, Ollie wriggles free of his arms, races in a wide circle around both of us, and somehow,somehow, wraps up both of our legs in his leash.

Dallas grabs me by the waist to keep me from falling.

We face each other, chest-to-chest, breathing hard.

I’ve regained my balance, but his hands are still wrapped around me, and he hasn’t let go.

He swallows and his eyes search mine, quiet and unguarded.

“You found him,” he breathes.

His thumb traces the edge of my jaw, like he’s holding back everything he isn’t ready to say.

And then he kisses me.

It’s not tentative like how I kissed Rome.

It’s desperate, fast, like he’s been holding back for too long and now he can’t control it.

His hand cups my jaw.