They sat for what seemed like hours, Dahlia clinging to Roy like a child to her father. In reality, it was probably only a few minutes, or possibly even seconds, because it seemed almost instantly Roy heard a shout of "What the fuck?!" and a car door slam shut outside.
William was knocked out cold on the front porch. His body was sprawled awkwardly half on the ground and half on the porch itself. Dade had originally stepped around him, unlocking the door and entering with a concerned look on his face.
"Can anyone explain that to me?" He dropped the pack of beer.
Dahlia crept over to the door and locked it quickly. She peeked out the window.
"I don't think he's coming back," Roy said to Dahlia. "Take a deep breath."
Dahlia put her hand over her mouth. "Oh my god, Roy, I think he's dead."
"No, Dahlia he's not dead." Roy unlocked the door again and leaned over to check William's pulse. "He's just being a little bitch."
"Um, does anyone care to tell me why the hell William is passed out in front of our house looking like he got beat up?" Dade growled.
"He put his hands on Dahlia, Dade," Roy explained.
"You did that?"
"Does this surprise you?" Roy raised an eyebrow.
"Just a...little concerning." He noticed the baseball bat laying by the couch.
"He shouldn't be a threat to Dahlia or anyone else anymore."
"I can see that..." Dade poked at one of William's limp arms. He stirred and groaned. "Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and take care of your...uh, dirty business...." Dade proceeded to drag William's body, who was now beginning to come to, down the driveway and towards the road. Roy watched him until he was almost out of view, and then ran back. "He was taking up space."
"Are you staying the night?" Dahlia whispered.
"Sure," Roy said.
Dade slammed the door, flopped down onto the couch and sighed. "Takeout?"
*
Roy lay in Dahlia's bed that night with her arms wrapped around him tightly. After dinner they had locked the door tightly proceeded by Roy returning the favor of the events that occurred the last time he lay in her bed.
She had been almost motionless, she could've been sleeping if not for the occasional purr. And when they continued to engage in intercourse later on, Roy had to remind her, "Dahlia...you kind of have to do all the work..." and she was nothing but happy to oblige.
Slow, love, slow...
"You're here, but your mind is elsewhere," Roy said, stroking Dahlia's neck. The bruises were beginning to disappear.
Dahlia was still clinging to Roy intensely, but as her eyes started to grow weaker, so did her grasp.
"I'm a million miles away," Dahlia sighed before falling into a deep sleep.
And that next morning, Roy awoke much earlier than Dahlia, and didn't have the heart to wake her. She had turned over during the night; she always did that whenever they slept together; and her back was always facing him in the morning.
He instead decided to make her breakfast, something she always skipped. Dade was already out on the tractor, and the hum was rumbling in the distance. He slipped the baseball bat back into the hall closet and glanced outside through the curtain. Nothing. Roy smiled to himself. He had gotten a sort of revenge, and it pleased him.
Dahlia entered the kitchen and curled up at a seat at the table just as Roy was pouring coffee.
"You're awake." Roy smiled.
Dahlia yawned, grasping her warm mug. "Hey."
"Did you sleep well?"
"I suppose." She studied Roy intensely, her eyes studying his every move. "I want to marry you."
Roy smirked. "You're crazy."
"I want to marry you."
"You are crazy."
"No, really. And I want to come to LA."
Roy wheeled over to her. "You're kidding."
"No. I don't like it here. I don't like my job. And I want to be happy. And you make me happy. And I know you're more happy in Los Angeles."
"Who said I'm more happy in Los Angeles?" Roy asked.
Dahlia stood up and sat on Roy's lap, wrapping her arms around him.
"Really, Dahlia, what makes you say that?"
"I'm just observing," she said. "Also..." She paused. "I have something to talk to you about."
"Okay..."
"I have something to tell you, and I'm not sure I can." Dahlia bit her lip.
"What do you have to tell me, Dahlia?"
She said nothing.
"Go ahead," Roy insisted.
"I haven't...started...bleeding."
"What?"
"I haven't...y'know...menstruated."
"Uh...What are you saying, Dahlia? We just had sex yesterday."
"I'm saying it has always happened like clockwork and I always wake up with it when it's time and today was supposed to be the day and I didn't wake up with it and-"
"Please stop talking."
"Oh my god you hate me..."
"Dahlia, I don't hate you," Roy said calmly. "It's 7 am, maybe it just didn't come yet or its gonna come a little later..."
"No, it's like clockwork," she cried.
Roy sighed. "Did you go to the bathroom yet?"
"No."
"Go to the bathroom."
Dahlia stood up, wiping her eyes. Roy put his head back and sighed when she left.
"Oh thank god," Dahlia whimpered.
"You good?" Roy called.
"Yeah..."
"Go get ready for work."
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Reach
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