Kasim instructed Dallas to lift up so he could begin wrapping her with the gauze. Once he was done, he began cleaning the specks of blood from her face with a cotton ball and peroxide.
Dallas couldn't help but relax to his touch. He was gentle with her, making sure not to take his eyes from hers. When he was done, he cleaned up the mess then laid beside her. Before Kasim could ask, Dallas began explaining what happened. She was a bit embarrassed to mention the way he forced himself on top of her, but she was gonna give details about the abuse.
"When I got home, he wasn't there. I waited three days before he finally showed and had the nerve to accuse me. He didn't ask if I was okay, have I eaten, anything. It's like he was so fixated with whatever he wrapped his mind around, and hewas running with just that. Kasim, I never cheated on that man. Well, with you but . . ." Dallas began crying because not once did Big Boy ask was she okay.
"It's his own guilt. I'm no fool. I'm only guilty of loving you, but he doesn't know that. I didn't give him signs of indication that I had fallen in love with a man during my seven days of disappearance. The part that hurts is, how can a man that says he loves you hurt you? That nigga beat my ass like I was a nigga with no remorse. After, I woke up and he had the audacity to tell me take myself to the hospital and I bet not mention him. " She continued to cry.
Kasim's rugged exterior hid a stormy sea of emotions as he watched her tears fall. The sound of her sobs was like a match to gasoline, igniting a fire of fury within him. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightened with tension, and he tried hard to contain the rage that consumed him. The intensity of his reaction surprised even him.
The sight of her tears awakened a primal urge to protect and avenge. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing grew heavy, but he made sure to cringe silently.
He reached out and gently pulled her into his arms. She fit perfectly against his chest—her sobs muffled against his shirt. He held her tightly; his grip was firm but gentle, as if he was shielding her from the world.
He whispered softly in her ear, "You're safe now. I've got you. No one will ever hurt you again." His words were a promise and a vow to protect her.
22
DALLAS
Opening her eyes, Dallas smiled pleasantly, remembering she had fallen asleep in Kasim's arms. It wasn't that same, horrific nightmare she had when she woke up in the presence of Big Boy. It was more like an adoring feeling even in the most troubling atmosphere. With Kasim, Dallas felt safe. A loving shelter that made her relax until she began snoring lightly. She hadn't felt this protected in a long time, and it felt great that she wasn't here because of some idiotic game.
However, when she realized Kasim wasn't lying next to her, she released a breath of frustration. She had begun pouting because he was supposed to be right here, holding her, brushing her jawline just as when she fell into a slumber. She wasn't sure if she had the strength to go search for him, so she lay still in one spot.
Dallas began thinking of Norah and decided that after she healed she would call her. She knew that if anyone was worried it was Norah and Mama, but she wouldn't dare mention The Dynasty. Mama would have a fit if she knew they had gone that night, and she'd really lose it if Dallas explained the things that took place. She was gonna tell Norah the truth but not Mama.
Dallas even thought of her own mother who was probably worried to death. They didn't talk much because they lived in two different cities, but they made sure to reach out weekly. Davina worked a graveyard shift, so she slept most of the day. Because Dallas worked seven-to-three, they would pretty much miss each other's calls.
Growing up, Dallas and Davina were close, but because she had Dallas at an older age, they didn't grow together like most girls and their mothers. Davina had Dallas at the age of forty-three and was now sixty-nine years of age. Dallas's father and mother were still together and happily married, but her father also was older in age. He was diagnosed with dementia, so at times he'd forget he even had a child. Dallas made sure to visit her parents during holidays, and she'd even take Big Boy along. Her mother loved Big Boy, so she knew that dropping a bomb on her about their breakup would crush her.
Outside of her parents, Dallas had grown a relationship with Norah's family so she filled the void of having no one. Although it was just her, Norah, and Drayon, they had a host of relatives on their father’s side that would invite them to cookouts. At times, Dallas wished she had other siblings, but she was just fine with her and her best friend. There were no outside friends. Just the two of them and it kept less drama in their lives.
The sound of the door latch made Dallas smile serenely. Her heart began to pump as her butterflies began rising in her tummy. When the door came completely open, that feeling ofdesire drifted away. It was Tasim. She was hoping it was Kasim so they could talk and spend some much needed time with one another. Tasim tiptoed over to Kasim's bed, and when he noticed she was awake, he faintly smiled. For some reason, Dallas got a warm feeling from Tasim that separated him from the others.
"How you feeling, Dallas?" he asked with concern.
"I'm feeling better. Thank you so much for everything."
"Don't sweat it, shorty," he replied with his hood demeanor. From his appearance, Dallas knew he was a street dude and apparently one with a heart.
"Umm . . . where’s Kasim?" she asked above a whisper because she didn't want to seem too clingy so soon.
"He went to handle some things. He told me to check on you. Is there anything you need?" he asked, and Dallas could tell he knew exactly where Kasim had gone just by the nonchalant response.
"If I can, may I use your phone?" she asked hesitantly.
Tasim did the same as he hesitantly pulled his phone from his pockets and handed it to her.
"I won't be long."
Dallas called her parents' number that she knew by heart. Her parents have had the number for over thirty years and refused to change it. She waited for the phone to ring, and when she got no answer, she dialed the number a second time. After four or five rings, her mother’s voice graced the phone curiously.
"Mom, it's me."
"Dallas?!" She called out Dallas's name with worry and excitement.
"Yes. I'm fine, Ma. How are you?"
"I'm okay, just worried about you, my child. Norah called for you a couple times, so I got worried. Your daddy ain't been doing too good. He's back in the hospital so it's just me."
