The Criminal Soulmate

Chapter Twelve

It had been hours since the events of the bus, yet Dylan could still feel his heart pounding in his chest. Though he'd never met that man in person, mention of him by Morgan and Tom had always made him certain he never wanted to encounter such a person. The earlier meeting had confirmed his greatest fears.

And now, people all over the country knew he was with Leanna too.

When Leanna called him over, showing the article, it felt like the world was about to cave in. Dylan hadn't realized the restaurant had cameras. The picture was of terrible quality, no distinguishable features of his besides his dark hair and golden-brown skin. Still, it left an unsettling feeling deep in the pit of his stomach.

The article didn't have much detail, other than that the employees believed they'd seen Leanna, and that she'd claimed to be someone else travelling with a boyfriend. That's when Dylan came into the picture. His jacket had given them both away. He'd shredded the newspaper before Leanna could get it back, earning a glare from the girl, who tried in vain to reassemble it so she could read it herself.

"It's not that big a deal," said Leanna, still sitting in the middle of the bed, placing torn pieces of paper on the space in front of her. "They didn't get a good enough picture of your face. Besides, most people will ignore you anyway."

"Thanks for the compliment."

She paused, looking up from her project, to him, eyes wide. "That's not what I—I'm not trying to say that you're ugly or anything. I just don't think people would want to get caught staring at you, so they'd most likely avoid looking in your general direction. You have a habit of looking like a mean jerk."

Dylan almost laughed. "Are you seriously trying to apologize for possibly offending me by insulting me in a different way?"

Leanna huffed, returning to her work on the destroyed paper. Watching her sitting there, biting her lip in concentration, Dylan couldn't deny that he dreamed of just walking over and kissing her. But he knew that would likely end in him getting a slap across the face. It had been over two years since he'd been intimate with a person. The memory still stung more than any physical pain Leanna could cause him.

"Would you stop gawking at me? It's your fault I have to do this. So, unless you plan on helping me put this mess back together, go do something else." Dylan jumped, not realizing he'd been staring at Leanna the entire time.

If looks could kill, he would drop dead. Things had been tense between them since Dylan told Leanna about how he'd ended up where there were now. He didn't miss the fire flare in her eyes when he'd mentioned Farida, or how he didn't know how to even begin to look for her parents. As much as he wanted to help now, there was also a part that didn't want this to end. It might not be a fairy tale, but he knew that, with time, they could grow to care for each other. The selfish part of him wanted to hold on to that for as long as possible. And, though Dylan knew it would someday have to end, he didn't want it to sooner than it had to.

When it all came to an end, he would blame it on them being soulmates. But he of all people knew soulmates didn't always have a happy ending. Dylan had known Farida wasn't his when they were still too young to care so much. Yet it never stopped him from giving everything he had to her. And that would always be his biggest mistake.

Dylan himself wasn't a product of two soulmates. His parents had been high school sweethearts, who'd ignored their tattoos when they concluded they were in fact not destined to be together. His mother died giving birth to him. Then, a few years after Dylan had been born, his father found his true other half. At first, the grief his father felt over his mother's death got in the way of his love life, but, time healed those wounds, and they'd been married just days after Dylan's sixth birthday.