Toxic 🖤 (Dallas Winston love story)

Vacancy

How could I sleep with the mixture of cars constantly driving by and Frank's snoring blasting in my ears? I stared up at the faded lettering on a clock with the time 2:49 in the hopes of getting the image of my mother wheezing for air out of my mind. As I looked to the left, resentment started to take over at the sight of Frank sleeping so peacefully after what he had done.

He drove around for hours in silence until he finally stopped at a motel I had never seen and checked us in for the night. It had two small beds and a picture that stood between them of a baby in a sunflower costume. He got into bed away from the window without saying a word to us. Now here I was, staring at a man, and I realized I never really knew what he was capable of.

Claire was sound asleep beside me, and I watched her chest rise and fall to keep from getting outraged. It felt like time was dragging on like a snail, and I became more restless with my brain not letting me sleep in peace. I had to see her.

I knew it was impossible, but I also knew I wouldn't be able to rest until I made sure she was okay. I moved my legs slowly and slightly every few seconds while keeping an eye on Frank. I soon had my feet on the itchy motel carpet and began to sit up when Frank's breathing stopped unexpectedly. My heart began to race with fear until he let out a deep breath and began breathing normally again.

I now sat upright, looking at Frank, and stared, waiting for the right moment.

I knew I had to be quick and quiet. Without making any noise, I tiptoed towards the door and slowly turned the doorknob. As I opened the door, the hinges let out a small creak, causing me to freeze in place. I looked over at Frank, but he remained sound asleep.

I stepped out into the cool night air, and the sound of passing cars grew louder. The motel was situated on the outskirts of town, and the only nearby source of light came from a flickering neon sign that read "Vacancy."

I walked down the empty street, my mind racing with thoughts of my mother. I had no idea where she was, but I knew I had to find her. As I turned a corner, I spotted a payphone outside of a convenience store. Without hesitation, I dug through my pocket and pulled out a few coins.

I dialed my mother's number, hoping against hope that she would answer. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before going to the answering machine. I left a message that just turned into me rambling, my voice trembling with emotion, and hung up the phone.

Feeling helpless, I leaned against the wall of the convenience store, trying to collect my thoughts. That's when I noticed a familiar face across the street.

I quickly ducked behind the wall, hoping he hadn't spotted me. I watched as he walked past the store and disappeared into the night. My heart raced with fear, and I knew I had to get back to the motel before Frank woke up.

I made my way back to the room, my mind still racing with thoughts of my mother and the man who I was quite sure was the cause of my life becoming a nonstop rollercoaster. It was Dallas Winston, the only boy I had shared a connection with.

With one kiss, a stolen moment that had left me breathless and wanting more since then—all he has done is disappear, leaving me alone and confused. I wondered what he was doing here and if he was following me. Was it a coincidence, or did he still feel the same pull toward me that I felt toward him?

Unable to shake the feeling that I needed to find out more, I got out of bed and quietly slipped out of the motel room yet again. The night air was cool on my skin, and I could feel the adrenaline pumping even faster through my veins.

I walked down the empty street, my heart racing with anticipation. As I turned a corner, I spotted Dallas leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette. My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met. For a moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. Then he broke the silence.

"Hey, you," he said, his voice rough and gravelly.

"Dallas," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, feeling a mix of anger and longing. We stood there in silence for a few moments before Dallas spoke again.

"I know I messed up," he said, his voice barely audible. "I should have explained myself, but I didn't know how."

I looked at him, my heart aching. Despite everything that had happened, I still felt drawn to him.

"I don't know if I can trust you," I said, my voice shaking.

"Yeah, man, I mean, I get it," he said, his eyes locking onto mine.

For a moment, I wavered. But then I remembered the intensity of our connection and the confusion and pain he had caused me.

"I need time to think," I said, turning to walk away.

A chill seemed to descend upon him, and he nodded solemnly, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. As I retraced my steps back to the motel room, my mind buzzed with thoughts of Dallas and our tumultuous past. His friends were wanted criminals, and my own father had been an abusive figure in my life. It was a dangerous combination, one that had left us in constant uncertainty and turmoil.

Back in the motel room, sleep evaded me once more. The weight of guilt settled on my chest, knowing that our encounter had sparked a chain of events that led to tragedy. I couldn't shake the sense of responsibility for the lives entangled in our chaotic orbit.