Saving Dallas Winston//// A Dallas Winston Story

15: I Trust You

When you're younger, you're scared of the dark. So, you ask mommy to turn on a night light, or light a candle. Getting older, it seems childish to be scared of the dark. So, you can't run to mommy and ask her to light a candle, because looking tough is all that matters. But the truth is, when you're older you're not scared of the dark itself, you're scared of what's in the dark. What monsters might lurk, what creatures might stir. Not the kind of monsters with pointy horns and sharp teeth, but the kind with a devilish smile and cruel intentions. The kind set out to hurt you and tear you limb from limb, pull you apart brick by brick and leave you as a pile of rubble. But as you try to overcome the fear of the darkness, you become it.

Dallas Winston was never afraid of anything. He was fearless and brave. I could never imagine Dallas being afraid of the dark. But maybe that's because all those years in jail, all those crimes he committed and all the shit he went through as a child, made hime become the darkness. It was weird though, because if Dallas Winston is the darkness, then why aren't I scared of him? Maybe it's because I'm becoming the darkness more than I thought. Maybe, just maybe... I already am.

Dallas Winston was in the cell next to me, with a smirk on his face. The officers were scowling at him and I was smirking in amusement as he messed with them.

"Hey Dal, what're you in for?" I asked him.

"Got into it with Tim." he spoke back. "It's all cool though." he leaned on the bars of the jail cell leaning over to see me, doing the same. "What about you?"

"Slashing tires." I replied with a curt nod and a smirk.

"You know," Vaschez spoke up, "You've become a different person, Y/N."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my smirk falling and a scowl replacing it.

"Do you remember when you got here, with your brothers, and filed that domestic abuse report?" he asked me. I had no idea why he was bringing this up, right now of all times.

"Nope, one of the worst days of my life, but I don't remember a thing." I replied sarcastically with a bitter chuckle.

"Well I do. One thing has always been on my mind since that day, I've always wanted to ask."

"Shoot then, I guess. In fact, shoot me." I replied with a wild, crazed smirk, causing him to roll his eyes.

"When your brother brought you down here, you denied that he was abusing you. Why?"

"I don't know." I asked with a shrug. Even though I full well knew the answer.

"Okay." he shrugged and dropped it.

"Curtis, Winston. You're both free to go." Smith came in the room and unlocked our jail cells.

"Cuffs." Dallas turned around and put his arms out for officer Smith to unlock them.

"Pft, amateur." I laughed as I pulled out my cuffs in my free hands. We both walked out of the police station side bye side. "So..." I began, "Blowing off some steam?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess." he shrugged. "Man, that broad sure does hate me." he laughed.

"Yeah, I could tell by the way she dumped that Coke on your head." I laughed too.

"Hey, um, you know you can trust me, right?" Dally turned to me and looked me in the eyes. I was a little taken aback by this, I'd only seen this side of Dallas a few times; when I came to his room that night and when I told him the story of Mark's abuse.

"Yeah, Dal. Why?"

"I just... I dunno, man." he trailed off, "What was Vaschez talking about... in there?" I sighed and prepared myself to tell the story. "You don't have to, man. I was just curious."