Sylvia

Chapter Nine: Sylvia

"Juliet, we're leaving." That was all I heard, and then before I knew it I was being whisked out of work without warning headed somewhere out on the outskirts of town.

"You're not fixing to murder me, are you?" I half joke, watching Dally's back as he paces quickly ahead of me.

He just grunts in response, and I shiver, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. I trudge on behind him, failing to navigate the uneven ground multiple times.

We reach a big open field, and Dallas stops abruptly. I stop a few feet behind him, and without warning he starts pacing, up and down angrily.

I raise my eyebrows watching the spectacle in front of me. He's finally lost it. My mind runs circles as he continues to pace. His eyebrows furrow, and I can tell his brain is wrapped tight with thoughts.

"Fuck." He shouts.

His shout catches me off guard, and I nearly jump sky high. My eyes widen as I watch him.

"Dallas?" I ask after a few moments, timidly approaching him.

"Damn it." He yells again, and I stop trying to get any closer to him.

"Dal?" I try again more forceful this time.

"I hate Shepard, I really do. Ya know that Sylvia?" his voice is hard, and it cuts through the crisp air like a knife.

"Is that what this is all about?" I reach out, placing my hand on his arm. He stops pacing.

"What else would it be about, man?"

"Shoot, I don't know. What happened?" I ask, and he leans into my hand a bit with his body.

"That prick." He growls, and I wait patiently for an answer "He was bragging on how he fucking manhandled you. He said he was glad he had you because you knew how to stay in line, and understood when you were out of line."

"Are you sure? Tim wouldn't say that." I try to convince him, but I don't even convince myself.

"Yes I'm sure. I won't even tell you what he said about grabbing you the way he did. I fucking hate him." He starts pacing again, and I sigh, rolling my eyes at him.

When I realize he's too riled up for reason, I drop to the ground, resting my chin in my hands as he continues to throw obscenities into the air and pace.

I think he's overreacting a bit, but I don't say anything, because knowing him it would just make it worse.

After what seems like forever, he stops pacing, and drops to the ground next to me. He's clearly still agitated, so I don't push it. I just sit next to him, waiting for anything to happen.

"I hate him." Dallas finally sighs "I hate him for thinking he can hurt someone who ain't bad, or a hood."

"So you've said." I shrug, unsure of what to make of the situation or Tim's supposed words.

"Jesus, why ain't you mad?" Dallas rips some grass into what must be a billion pieces.

"What good would it do?" I shrug, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Are you serious, Sylvia?"

My response must have upset him because he starts using foul words again, and rips out more grass.

I just don't answer him, brushing some of the grass he's throwing around off of my lap. I'm not even sure he's in his right mind to be honest.

"Look, I know it's only been two weeks, but I want to know you, man, and I feel like I do, ya know," he pauses, glancing over at me, holding my gaze "and I know you deserve better than how he's treating you."