Cadaverous Love

Chapter Fifty

My attention shifts back to the passing silhouettes of houses that are coming closer and closer together as we drive down the road.

"Look," my voice hiccups with excitement, "you can see the lights of the city."

"Huh?" Dallas asks, "oh yeah, you can. You know for someone who didn't want to go to Vegas, you sounded awfully excited."

"Yeah," I admit, "I still don't know why you chose Vegas for my last hurrah."

"Last hurrah," Dallas mumbles and I swear I could hear him roll his eyes, "I dunno. You said you wanted to travel so I picked a place and we went."

"Okay," I nod, and it occurs to me that I've done nothing but give him grief about this. "Thank you, Dallas," I say, "I'm happy we're going."

"Good," he responds, "me too."

--

I become mesmerized by the bright, colorful florescent lights and the masses of people still out so late at night.

"It's beautiful," my words fumbled out of me as I rest against the passenger side window. "Beautiful in its own way."

"I told you you'd like it." Dallas notes.

Smile, "wow, would you listen to that? For once, Dallas Winston is right," I joke.

"Oh yeah," he gives short laugh, "y'know that doesn't happen often."

"Nope," I shake my head, still staring out of the window, enchanted by the bright lights, "where are we going?"

"I'm just trying to find a motel." He says.

"There's one," I respond, pointing out an extravagant building of beautiful white stones stacked upon one another, "but it looks expensive."

"Yeah, no, Emily. We can't afford that."

I laugh a little and sit back, resting in the comfortable silence that has joined us in the truck. I pull one of Dallas's hands off of the steering wheel and into my lap.

Lacing my fingers with his, I say, "wanna know somethin', Dally?" I ask.

"Sure," he nods, resting his fingers between my knuckles.

"I love you." I smile. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I know," he laughs.

"Do you love me back?" I ask.

"Sure," he shrugs, "I mean, I don't hate you."

I laugh, "thank you, very reassuring. I don't think I need the reassurance anymore anyways, not all the time I mean. I still want you to tell me that you love me, but I would know you do even if you didn't tell me."

"Oh yeah?" He says, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow, "what makes you so sure?"

"I don't think you would be driving me to Las Vegas if you didn't love me."

"Eh," Dal shrugs again. "Dammit."

"What's wrong?"

"We should have gone somewhere else, like to see mountains or waterfalls or some shit. You're about to die and I'm takin' you to the city of gamblin' and drinkin'."