Page 18 of Twisted Violet (Lovesick Villains #4)

SEVENTEEN

VIOLET

It’s been a couple of days since I kissed Rome.

We haven’t talked about it. Haven’t acknowledged it, but things have changed between us. It’s not a bad change. It’s just… different, but in a way that feels good.

I think.

I don’t know. I’m honestly still having a hard time processing my feelings about it and sitting here toying with the bracelet he got me - the one I haven’t taken off since he slipped it on - probably isn’t helping.

I know it’s just a bracelet. That giving it to me probably didn’t mean much to him at all. But I’m weirdly attached to it now.

God, if Stevie ever finds out what happened between us that night, I’d never hear the end of it. Especially after she warned me to be careful.

That night will just have to stay between Rome and I. At least, until I can figure out how I feel about everything.

My eyes are glued to the TV as the two leads in my favorite K-Drama move towards each other in slow motion.

“Oh, my God.” I gasp.

They move one step closer, then another.

The rain is coming down hard, and it’s dripping down their faces and soaking their clothes, but their eyes are locked on each other like magnets.

They’re about to kiss.

I freeze, my mouth full of half-chewed potato chips, my blanket bunched around my knees, and my breath caught in my throat.

And then -

DING.

The elevator chimes, and I bolt upright and nearly launch myself off the couch.

My bag of chips goes flying. The blanket twists around my ankles, and my heart punches out of my chest.

What the hell?

Heavy, frantic footsteps thunder through the hallway.

“Shit. Shit. Where the hell are my keys?”

I scramble off the couch and run to the hallway just in time to see Dallas tearing through the entryway, hair wild, face pale.

He looks up, eyes locking on me. “Ollie slipped his collar,” he says, out of breath. “He saw a bird and just… he ran.”

My stomach drops. “He ran?”

“Into traffic.” Dallas’s voice breaks. “I- I couldn’t catch him. I came back to get my car keys. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Let’s go,” I say, already shoving my feet into sneakers. “I’m coming with you.”

Dallas doesn’t argue, he just grabs the keys and we rush out the door.

The elevator feels like it’s taking forever.

Dallas is pacing, muttering under his breath, and rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to hold himself together. I bounce on the balls of my feet, nerves vibrating through my whole body. The thought of Ollie alone in the street, scared and confused, absolutely guts me.

“He’s smart,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “He knows his way around.”

“But he’s reckless.” Dallas counters. “And this city’s full of fucking cars.”

His voice cracks, just slightly.

That’s when I realize… he’s not just worrying, he’s terrified.

If something happens to Ollie, I don’t think Dallas will ever be able to forgive himself.

The second the elevator doors open, we’re running.

The car peels out of the garage and into the city. Dallas is gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles are white. I’ve never seen him like this. Stripped of all his usual charm. No jokes. No smile. Just raw, frantic energy.

“I’m so fucking stupid.” He mutters under his breath.

I glance over. “Don’t say that.”

He shakes his head, laughing without humor. “Why not? It’s true. Everyone knows it.”

“I don’t,” I say quietly.

“I didn’t even graduate high school,” he mumbles, eyes locked on the road. “Can’t be more obvious than that.”

I bite my lower lip. “That doesn’t mean anything. There are tons of reasons smart people have a hard time in high school.”

“Yeah?” He says, voice sharper than before. “Like what?”

I swallow. “Like… trying to stay awake in class after cleaning up broken dishes all night. Or praying your dad doesn’t overdose while you’re at school. Or not having enough food in the house and being too hungry to focus.”

He goes still.

Then I add, softer, “The only reason I graduated is because my sister took the brunt of it. So, I’m sure you had your reasons.”

Dallas looks at me, startled, like he wasn’t expecting that kind of grace.

He nods slowly, jaw tight. “Yeah. I did.”

We hit a red light, and he drops his gaze. “I was seventeen. And she was my English teacher.”

The air in the truck goes still.

“She used to stay after school with me. Said I had potential. Said I just needed someone to believe in me.”

His voice twists into something sharp. Bitter.

“Then she started touching me. Saying if I didn’t give her what she wanted, she’d fail me. Said no one would believe a kid like me. Especially not some dumb country boy.”

My fingers dig into my thighs.

“So I stopped showing up. Stopped trying. I dropped out just before I turned eighteen.”

He drags a hand through his hair, forcing a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Guess I’ve always thought my only real value was how I looked. The face. The body. The smile.”

“Dallas,” I whisper.

“It’s fine,” he says quickly, leveling his eyes on the road again. “Not like it matters now. I figured out how to be useful. Strong. Reliable. The guy people call when they want something handled.”

“That’s not all you are.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“No,” I push, soft but firm. “You’re more than your body. More than what she did to you. You’re more than the guy who handles things. You’re the guy who cares.”

He doesn’t respond, but his grip on the wheel loosens, just slightly, like something uncoiled in him.

We drive a few more blocks in silence. Outside the window, the city blurs by. The world hasn’t changed, but something between us has.

Dallas reaches for the radio and turns the volume up just enough to hear the bass of the music pumping through the speakers.

It’s not a song I recognize, but the soft beat fills the space between us like a held breath. His fingers tap against the wheel, not from nerves now, but something steadier, and for just a second, I let myself breathe, too.

I rest my forehead against the window, letting the sound of the music fill the silence inside me.

The panic over Ollie hasn’t passed, but Dallas’s story is still echoing in my head. His childhood held a different kind of pain than mine, but it was painful just the same. I want to reach over and say something else, maybe even hold his hand, but I don’t.

Not because I don’t want to, I do, more than anything. But because I don’t trust my voice not to crack for the beautiful broken boy inside of him.

So instead, I watch the city smear past in flashes of red and gold, and pretend, for just a few more seconds, that we’re both okay.

As the search for Ollie continues, we pass a corner store, and I catch my reflection in the glass.

It’s just a blur, but it’s enough to leave a lasting impression.

My eyes are wide. My hands are shaking. It’s the same hollow look I thought I’d buried.

For a second, I see her again.

The girl caged in the shed. The one who flinched at every sound and never thought she’d make it out.

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,” he mutters, 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.

My fingers knot in his shirt.

There’s nothing sweet about the kiss. It’s all heat and pressure and months of tension finally snapping loose. I melt into it. Because this is Dallas . Handsome, charming, cocky, infuriating Dallas. Who’s so sincere sometimes it hurts.

When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing hard.

Ollie barks once, proud of himself. Like this was the plan all along.

Dallas grins, a little sheepish.

“Guess he’s a fan of a slow burn.”

I shake my head, smiling despite myself.

“Come on,” he says, voice warm against my skin. “Let’s go home.”