dallas winston, everybody knows you don't mess with dallas winston.
he's spent two years away from his home in new york city where he left his younger sister. up until late-november, 1964, no one was aware dallas had any siblings; until one night...
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MADELINE WINSTON
a bang on the door three feet from where i sit on the floor makes me jump. it comes again from the other side, a fist against the wood. "madeline, it's me."
dallas.
i stretch my arm up, reaching for the lock. the knob turns and he steps inside quickly, shoving himself around the small crack he opened the door to and then shutting and locking it again.
i watch as he rubs his hands together, blowing his breath into them as he sinks down to the floor with me.
"cops came?" i ask, my voice monotoned.
"yeah. buck and i got the upper hand since this is his property and i live here. they're treatin' it as a break-in, took 'em all down to the station." i feel his eyes land on me, and when he doesn't say anything but stare, i look up to meet his gaze.
his eyebrows furrow, almost as if he's saying, what's the matter with you?i notice the blood dripping from the cut above his left eye, curving down his cheekbone.
"you left me in here the same way you left me in your room back in new york. that day with ... with mom." i try to jog his memory, thinking maybe if i couldn't remember that day for eleven years, then maybe he can't either.
but his face drops, and i think i guessed wrong. he does remember that day.
the bottoms of his sneakers drag against the floor, squeaking, as he lowers his knees so his legs are stretched out in front of him.
"she overdosed, didn't she?" i ask, having figured it out now that i'm older, but when i was six and saw my mom pale in the bathroom, i just thought she was sick. she was, i guess, just a different kind of sick.
"yeah." dallas nods, looking at his cracked and bloody knuckles resting in his lap. "and she didn't care that you saw. she wanted you to sit with her while she nodded off from pills."
the tip of my nose tingles and i feel tears prick my eyes again, "tell me about it." i whisper, scared if i speak any louder i'll break in a way i'll never come back from.
"you loved her." he shrugs, his eyes filled with pain—pain much greater than the kind that's usually clouding his eyes. "you would've sat with her on that cold floor until she passed out and her breathing slowed if it weren't for me pulling you out of there. not dad, me."
my throat tightens at the crack in his voice.
"neither of them gave a shit about us."
"i thought mom cared." i admit, tears streaking my cheeks. "she left us because she was better off without dad. she left us because she loves us."
"do you hear yourself?" dallas' eyes narrow. "if she loved us, she wouldn't have left."
