WARNING: EXPLICIT MATERIAL AND VIOLENCE NOT SUITED FOR YOUNG READERS.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended, story is for creative sharing purposes only. All rights of Walking Dead to AMC (I guess).

J.R.- As usual, my grammar is not great and I write my stories late at night... please be gentle with the grammar and spelling issues that may be present throughout the chapters. Thanks for reading!

Sweet Georgia Belle Peaches and Cream
Chapter 1
[Broken]

Everyone makes mistakes, but when said mistakes are made and freedom is forfeited, one couldn't help but feel trapped and lonely.

How desperately lonely she was.

It didn't matter what she was doing, who she was doing it with or when—she always felt that it was wrong. She didn't have a choice, though. No, that was a lie, she had a choice. Conflicted, she always had to choose between staying alive and betraying God, or end up dead like her family.

Tonight was one of those nights. She was dressed in her shortest black, sparkling miniskirt and a deep crimson tube top that ended right above her navel. Her once glistening sunshine blond hair is now dull, drenched in hairspray and curled to a mass of blond waves.

She had always disliked the smell of cigarettes and drunks, and yet here she was in a bar waiting for her so called boyfriend to bring her to her next customer. The term 'boyfriend' is very loosely used here. It had started out the way an eighteen year old girl can only dream about—flirty kisses, picnics and harmless fun. That had been two years ago. What started as a beautiful relationship took a turn for the worse after her father died a year after she moved with her boyfriend to New York City.

Just the thought about her beloved daddy brought tears to her blue eyes. She wasn't even allowed to attend the funeral. Instead, that was the night she was forced to become a woman who sold her body for money. It wasn't as if she wanted things to turn out this way, it just happened. They were short on money with their paychecks spent, and heavily in debt. Her boyfriend then suggested her having sex with his boss to get some money for her to travel fees to her hometown and for a promotion.

"If you love me, you would do it for me, baby. It'll only be this once, I promise."

He said it would be the only time; even then she was against it. He slipped roofies into her drink the next night, and well... When she woke up to the soreness between her legs, she knew what had happened. When she confronted him, he swore that was the one and only time she needed to do it. It was a damn lie, that's what it was. Not only did he keep the money, he locked her in their room for days before she was 'allowed' to come out.

Then the beatings came.

The rest is history.

A part of her was grateful he supplied her with a steady stash of condoms at first, but when he started to use the money for meth and heroine, she had to borrow some from the girls or steal them. She wasn't stupid enough to get knocked up and contract some kind of sexually transmitted disease. At least, her customers were the same handful for the past year. Apparently not many men find her small breasts and thin frame and Georgia accent attractive. Her bustier of friends was more sought out than her.

She was thankful she found a couple of good friends out of this ordeal. Tara and Karen, two absolutely beautiful and caring ladies looked out for her … they were also in the same shitty situation—sold. When Jeff had borrowed and owed so much money to a gang, he had 'sold' her to save his own sorry life. Whatever money she made from this ordeal, half went to repay his debt and the other half for his own personal use. And no one wanted to save a homeless, family-less girl.

Beth let out a sigh and gripped her drink tightly in her hands—she hated to think about it as much as she hated living. She tried once… dying. But in the end, Jeff 'saved' her and had beaten the pride out of her. Since then, six months ago, she stopped resisting.

"I got you a new one," his voice stirred up anger in her. She quickly dampened it, knowing fully well if he saw that anger or spark of anything in her eyes, he'll just beat her.

"A new one? I thought you said it was going to be routine today," she sighed, sipping her drink.

"Does it matter? Get your ass in that car and give me the fucking money tomorrow, bitch," he stepped close behind her, and gripped her arms painfully tight. From another person's view, he may have been looking affectionate and concerned, his words were anything but. "I don't give a damn what you think about taking a new one. I need a damn fix tomorrow and you better get me the money or I'm going to spread all your dirty little secrets to your hometown. Now, you wouldn't want that right, sugar? Black Mercedes, 5 minutes. Git," he shoved her towards the direction of the restrooms and slapped her butt hard.

She didn't bother to argue—it wouldn't do her any good. "'kay."

It didn't long for her to freshen up and stand on the curb in front of the club like a hooker. She laughed bitterly to herself, that's exactly what she is—a prostitute.

The flawless black Mercedes pulled up in front of her seconds later, the front passenger window rolled down, showing a highly attractive and well-dressed lady in the driver's seat. "Get in the back," she ordered without glancing at her and proceeded to roll the window back up.

Beth slipped into the back seat, her skirt riding up to the top of her thighs, barely covering her private. Without another word exchanged, the car started to drive to a location. A part of her hoped she was being kidnapped. Death would be her only salvation, she thought. The car soon stopped in front of one of a prestigious hotel. She knew it well… most of her clientele preferred high classed hotels to support prostitution.

"Put this on, go to the fifteenth floor, room 1509," the lady in the driver's seat tossed a black trench coat at her and tossed her the keypass. "Make sure you shower first," she hissed, pinching her nose shut.

"Yes ma'am," Beth replied with a bit too much sass. Not bothering to hear the lady's response, she slipped on the coat and secured it tight. She was grateful for that, even though she was in this profession, she still had some modesty left. The moment she entered the lobby, she knew what the receptionists were thinking… them and everyone else.

Whore, slut, skank. She knew those names too well.

With her chin held high, she dodged the wayward glances and headed for the stairwell. She knew better than to use the elevator. The trip to the fifteenth floor was exhausting, never had she gone up that far before. Usually it was the fifth or sixth, but never above tenth. This must be an important person.

Well, at least I'll get some sleep tonight from all this exercise, she grinned. She prayed for days where she could sleep undisturbed for at least four hours. Those days rarely happened. As soon as she stepped into the stairwell, a bellhop stood by the door of room 1509 and casted her a wary glance.

She ignored it and glaring at him; she slid her key into port and slipped into the room.

Holy cow, the room—no suite, looked like something from the cover of an upscale magazine. This must definitely be an important person, she mused. Locating the bathroom, she felt genuinely excited at the thought of using a freshly cleaned bathroom—that was utmost rare in her situation. She stripped herself of her dirty clothes and turned on the shower head.

Moans of ecstasy slipped passed her lips as the warm water soothed her aching body. Massaging her arms and legs with the soap, she moved her way up to wash her hair, but decided against it. It may ruin her makeup. Guys like these preferred people like her with skanky looking hair and makeup—it excited them.

She didn't know how long she was in the shower, in fact she didn't notice what the time was until her fingers started to prune and shrivel. She panicked—guys like these didn't want to waste their time and often deducted money for simple mistakes like these. Less money often meant more beatings, and that was something she desperately wanted to avoid. Jumping out of the shower, she quickly wrapped a soft towel around her and scurried out the bathroom.

"You took your sweet damn time didn't you?" she heard a rusty, deep baritone voice coming from the direction of the bedroom.

She made her way, cautiously to the bedroom, stepping through the sliding doors with her head forward, saving herself from looking at her customer. She learned her lesson from looking into their eyes, hoping they'll save her. All they would do is fuck her and move on. That's what they all did, and this man with the attractive voice would be no different.

"Sorry," she whispered, keeping her gaze down. She made her way to the large king bed, letting the body towel fall, she laid in the middle of the bed and closed her eyes. She guessed he didn't even bother to shut off the lights before he was on top of her.

His scruffy beard scraped against her skin, judging by its roughness, she assumed it to be a short one. After all, successful businessmen hardly had long beards. It didn't take long for him to spread her legs apart, groping at her womanhood and her breasts. His touches almost felt tender, but she knew better to link emotions with sex. She heard the familiar sound of a condom wrapper tearing and mentally kicked herself for forgetting the most important thing she could do for herself. She blamed the amazing shower for making her forget, but all thoughts escaped her mind when she felt him push into her, sending both pain and pleasure up her spine.

Normally, she would try to ignore it and lay still, but he felt different—she didn't know to explain it but she knew she would have a hard time trying to ignore the pleasure pulsating from her sex. The way he filled her, so completely, she couldn't ignore the way her body began to ache for him.

No, she had to focus. She couldn't bear to shoulder the disappointment of indifference of her customers anymore. She moved her head to her side and swallowed a moan, thinking about anything but the pleasure building in her lower pelvis. She thought about her father, their family farm, and the veterinary clinic her father once ran. She thought about her old high school friends, and wondered if they were married or have any children. She had always wanted children. The more the merrier. She thought… she and Jeff were going to be married with children, but how naïve she was.

Her thoughts soon evaporated her mind as he thrusted harder and painfully deep into her. She stifled a pained moan and stiffened her body, guarding herself for more pain. This normally did happen when she wasn't prepped properly. Ninety percent of the time, sex had always hurt… and had only had an orgasm once. Once in two years. Sadly enough, that was with the use of a vibrator and when no males were involved.

A few more painful jerks from his hips, he went rigidity as he finished his task. He laid stiff atop of her for a few seconds, catching his breath before rolling off of her. She continued to keep her eyes closed until she felt him leave the bed. The door of the bathroom clicked shut, signaling her that the task was done.

Cracking an eye open, she scanned the nightstand to the right of her, where he got off of. Sure enough, the distinct color of green bills glistened under the lamp. She reached over and grabbed the bills, but regretted the motion when a burning pain caused her to stiffen.

Ughh, that'll hurt for at least a day, she groaned to herself, knowing the sensation well. It had happen during the beginning when the customers were frequent and rough, but since she had lost weight and looked almost scrawny, she attracted customers who were less… well endowed. Except for this one, of course. Steeling herself against the pain, she sat up on the soft bed and pulled the bills to her lap. She counted the bills, one, two, three, four… five one-hundred dollar bills.

Her jaw dropped—five hundred dollars. Wow. She did a double take, counting the money again. Sure enough, the count didn't change. She didn't expect any man could pay five hundred dollars for less than an hour's worth of time. Her worries of another beating disintegrated. With this amount of money, Jeff would probably even treat her to a good dinner. Maybe.

The door to the bathroom opened, and in came her customer. She made the mistake and looked up without thinking, catching a glance of his features. He was a very, very attractive man. He must be around his late thirties, she assumed. Steel blue eyes, rusty dark brown long hair, slicked back with water and a few specks of grey in his beard. There were wrinkles, but it fitted him along with the hollow expression in his eyes. It almost mimicked hers.

Neither one exchanged words, but he casted her a brief nod and grabbed his suit jacket before slipping out the suite door.

Beth exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding, and flopped onto her back, causing the bed to bounce with the action. "Well, at least I get to stay in this room for the night," she grinned. Sometimes, the customers would leave as soon as they were done and she was free to do whatever she wanted in the room.

The thought of another shower… no, a steaming hot bath made all her stress disappear. She tucked the money under the small digital clock atop the nightstand and headed towards the bathroom. A knock on the door stopped her in her tracks. She glanced down to only find herself naked and quickly pulled a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around her body.

She didn't bother looking through the eyehole to see who it was—she just assumed it would be her customer who forgot something here or the lady she saw earlier. When she opened the door, she took a step back in terror. "J-Jeff? What are you doing here?"

The stench of alcohol emitted heavily from his breath. "Where the money at?" He growled, leaning against the door frame for support.

"It's… on the nightstand," she whispered, taking another step back. She noticed the blood and swelling on his eyebrow and knew exactly what had happened. He most likely wanted a fix and didn't have money… used the drug and never paid. And now, now that he was here… she wasn't safe from his abuse.

"Well go get it bitch," he growled, shoving her backwards by her shoulders. He slammed the door shut and snatched the hair on the back of her head and hauled her roughly into the suite.

Despite her screams of pain and pleads for him to stop, he didn't. With her head in his hands, he stomped into the bedroom with her in tow, and snatched the money. "How much is in here?"

"Five…" Beth replied as best as she could through the searing pain on scalp.

"I need you to fuck another one tonight, I owe Big Mikey seven fifty," he hissed, releasing her hair and pushed her face towards the bed, causing her to trip and fall.

"Another? I can't… I need some time in between—," she was unable to finish her sentence when he pounced on top of her, ripping the towel off of her, and pinned her hands besides her head. "No, no, please Jeff! I can't, it hurts!"

"Does it fucking look like I care?" He began to unbuckle his belt, pushing apart her legs with his knees.

"Jeff, PLEASE STOP!" she cried, struggling against his tight grip. Her pleas fell on death ears when he straddled on top of her, already thrusting roughly in her despite her cries.

Unknowingly to them, the door to the suite opened.

Beth continued to scream, her voice growing hoarse, as the pain of her tearing into two took over her. "Please, stop… please," she cried, large tears slipping from the corner of her eyes. Jeff wouldn't have any of it. He slammed his fist into the right side of her face, above her eyebrow several times in attempts to silence her.

Before she could register what was happening, Jeff was roughly lifted up off of her. He groaned in pain when she heard a rustle of clothing and what sounded like a fist punching against soft flesh. Sure enough, when she was able to open her eyes through the pain, her customer… the man with the hollow eyes was landing blows of his fist onto Jeff's face.

"Stop, stop!" Jeff's hands flew up in defense, briefly stopping her customer in his rage. "What are you doing man?" he stumbled to stand on his legs, hunched over the side of the bed.

"You were raping this woman, that's what's wrong you fucker," he spat, his chest heaving.

"She's my girlfriend! And, it's none of your damn business. I need some more money tonight and she ain't gonna make some more. I hav'ta discipline her somehow," Jeff hissed, his face contorted into an aggressive scowl.

"How much can she owe you for you to treat a woman this way?" Her customer hissed, reaching into his back pocket.

"Two fifty. That's just two more fucks, it's easy money. She enjoys being on her back and making money, don't ya sugar," Jeff directed his attention to Beth.

Beth dared not to speak; instead she covered her sobs with the discarded towel and attempted to shield her body from the two aggressive males.

Her customer yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tossed some bills at Jeff's feet. "Leave her the fuck alone for a couple of days, yeah?"

Jeff stared at the bills discarded at his feet, and grinned appreciatively at her customer, "Will do, partner. She's all yours for the next two days. Good luck with her, it took me six months to break her damn spirit." Bending down clumsily, he collected his money and stumbled towards the door, not bothering to cast another glance at Beth or the man.

Beth looked away when her customer turned around, both alone now. A part of her dreaded having to use her body one more time for the night—she was too badly abused and emotionally drained to do anything but lay down and wallow in misery and pain. She flinched instantaneously when the man shifted and started to head towards the bar of the suite. Her stiff flinch caused him to freeze in his steps; his gaze lingered on her before finally taking another step towards his destination.

She began to fear what was to come afterwards. She assumed he was going to get himself a drink, possibly get himself drunk and then have his way with her. Either way—she was powerless. She could escape, and had done so many times before… or at least tried to. Jeff and Big Mickey's goonies always found her and brought her back before beating her into a blood pulp.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize the man was sitting in front of her until he pressed something cold against her right eyebrow. Briefly, she recoiled at the contact, but the cold relief of ice soothed some of her pain away.

"Keep it on there or it'll bruise," she heard him say in his deep tone.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. After a long silence, she dared to question his next motive. "What… are you wanting me to do next?"

"Nothing, as far as I'm concerned," he cleared his throat and scooted away further away from her on the bed. "Should go take a bath or something, it'll help with the pain."

Beth looked up, shocked. Was he really going to let her be? She couldn't find any signs of deception in his eyes, and she had gotten with skilled with detecting lies from the last year. She couldn't exchange any other words with him. Her eyes welled up in tears; some of them had already fallen from her eyes. She bowed her head in shame and embarrassment. It would take someone witnessing a rape of a person to be kinder to them, wouldn't it? It was a bitter thought, but pain… misery and disappointment were the only things that were consistent with her life as of late.

He placed a card in front of her, but she didn't move or care to acknowledge it. He shifted in his seat before standing up with a sign, adjusting his suit and sleeves, he began heading towards the door. "Stay here for a couple of days… and… don't open the door for anyone but room service. Even then, you have to be careful. I'll tell my assistant to bill me the tab… don't worry about it," his voice rasped cautiously before disappearing into the hallway with the click of the door.

The moment the door clicked shut, the dam that was holding her tears at bay broke, and she was tossed into a crying fit. Her hands clenched together in front of her chest, trying to ease the pain that had built up in her heart. She was grateful, as she cried that no one was there to witness her weakest point.

She hated it all, her life, her situation, her father for leaving her and her sister running away. She was all alone in this world, with no kin to call and ask for help. Even then, if she did… Jeff and his friends would never let her off… and they would hurt her loved ones too.

That was the only thing that kept her from running back to her family farm. If he knew she had the deed under her name, he would take it and sell it to anyone at any price if it meant he could have another fix. The only highlight of her life in the past two years was the vision of Jeff getting pummeled by her most recent customer.

It was definitely a sight for sore eyes, and for now, she was safe. Maybe for a couple of days, she will be. With the money Jeff got, he probably will be all stocked up and high for at least three days. She couldn't count it all, but she saw at least another six bills, twenties or hundreds, she wasn't too sure.

And all this from a stranger. She gingerly picked up the business card he had placed onto the bed in front of her. All it had on there was a name and a phone number right under it.

She tested his name on her lips through watery eyes and thanked the Lord for the grace of this man named, "Daryl Dixon."

/

J.R.- yeah, it's a little dark... but I don't know why… I couldn't sleep and this plot had been stuck in my head the entire time. Can't promise the chapters will be 4k words all the time, but I'm not quite sure if this story will be a long chaptered story. Haven't figured it out that far yet.

Please review! Thanks for reading!