We are picking up immediately from where we left off last chapter. I just want to remind you lovely readers that everything in this story will be consensual, but reluctance plays a big part. Please keep in mind that I love Beth and Daryl so so much and never want anything bad to happen to either of them. Also please remember that I'm a sucker for happy endings, and while this may not be the fluffiest story ever, it'll all be okay in the end.
Thank you for all the support I've gotten so far, for all the comments, favorites and followers. It all means so very much to me - it really does! And without any further ado...
He looked her over once more. "How old're you, anyways?" Daryl asked, narrowing his eyes.
Beth frowned, not sure why that mattered, "I just turned eighteen."
Daryl nodded, apparently pleased with her answer, then started walking down an unseen path. He turned and called over his shoulder, "This way. Try not to make too much noise."
His steps through the forest were so sure and nearly silent that it took a lot of effort for Beth not only to keep up with him, but to do her best and stay quiet. After close to an hour of following him, she finally spoke. "Sir? I've only had a granola bar since yesterday morning. I don't think I can go much further."
"Well, what the hell you want, a piggy back?" he shot back at her, though he'd stopped to give her a chance to catch her breath.
"I...I was hoping you might have something to eat?" She felt stupid asking, but her head was starting to spin and her legs could barely support her anymore, not to mention the nauseous, shaky feeling spreading from her stomach and the cold sweat that was forming on the back of her neck.
He shot her a mean look, "I look like a damn 7-Eleven to you?" He sighed heavily and pushed her back against a tree, then down on her shoulder, plopping her on the ground. "Wait here. Don't move." Beth couldn't help but close her eyes, exhaustion rushing through her. She might have even fallen asleep, though within minutes the man had returned, holding a red bandana wrapped around what ended up being several berries. She looked up at him with a questioning look. "Don't worry, they're safe. I ain't gonna poison you. The hell you take me for?"
Beth carefully took the small bundle from him, whispering a "thank you," and forced herself to eat the fruit slowly, letting each berry burst on her tongue, savoring the tart flavor. After a few minutes, she let the berries sit in her lap and took a long look at her would-be protector while he was busy keeping watch. She decided he wasn't awful looking, just...rough. His whole persona seemed guarded and on edge, yet comfortable enough in his surroundings, as if he'd led a hard life and these human monsters now plaguing the earth were just one more thing to deal with. Finally she broke the silence. "What's your name?"
He turned and looked at her, studying her for a minute before answering. "Daryl. Dixon," he added after a pause. It was the kindest his voice had sounded so far.
"Daryl," she repeated back to him. "I'm Beth. Beth Greene." She would have offered her hand for a handshake as she was taught, trying to be polite, but he was several steps away and didn't seem interested in moving any closer or all that interested in keeping up formalities like manners. "You from Atlanta?"
"Nah."
"Oh," she said quietly. "Me neither. My daddy has a farm just outside of Senoia." He only grunted in response. "You really know how to use that thing?" He stared at her, not giving an answer. "Your crossbow. I've never seen anyone who actually knows how to shoot one. My daddy and Otis, he's one of our neighbors, they both have..."
"You talk too damn much," he cut her off.
"I'm sorry," she whispered and continued eating her berries. "Did you want any?" she asked before she started gobbling the whole pile down.
"Nah."
Beth sighed and quietly finished her meal, having a one-sided mental conversation with Daryl as she ate, wanting to tell him that while she may talk a lot, at least she was trying to be friendly. When she'd eaten the last berry, she stood up and brushed off her backside; she looked up and saw that Daryl had already continued walking through the brush, somehow knowing exactly where he was going, so she rushed to catch up with him. She tapped him on the shoulder, startling him momentarily, and handed him his bandana. He only scoffed and stuffed the fabric into the back pocket of his jeans before setting off through the woods again.
Along the way, Daryl would pause and aim his crossbow at seemingly nothing, but each time he stopped and fired, he'd go and retrieve the bolt, instructing her to stay where she was, and he would return with a freshly killed squirrel tied to a rope that was now slung over his arm. It looked like he had quite a few already, and Beth wondered just how many people he was going to be sharing them with. She was also curious how squirrel tasted, and figured she'd be finding out later that evening when they reached his camp.
They finally broke through the tree line into a large clearing filled with tents, cars, clothes lines, small fire pits, and even an RV. There were close to twenty people occupying the area doing various tasks around the camp, though Daryl didn't bother introducing Beth to any of them. She noticed they were set up in small groups, most likely families who'd escaped together, many of them with children. Several watched her as she followed Daryl through the camp, most looking scared, none showing any signs of welcome.
Daryl led her to a small, well-used tent on the edge of the clearing, dropping off his rope of squirrels with an older, bearded man sitting outside the RV along the way. "Home, sweet home," he grumbled as he held the flap open for Beth to crawl through.
Inside there were two sleeping bags, an assortment of knives and guns lining the walls of the tent, two large duffle bags, and not much else. There was a distinctly masculine odor that Beth guessed no amount of Febreeze would ever get out. "You an' me'll share that one," he mumbled, gesturing to the sleeping bag on the left.
"Share?" Beth asked nervously. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, giving her the feeling that she should have known before he'd even said anything. "Who uses the other one?"
"M'brother, Merle," he said as he set his crossbow down in the corner nearest the entrance. He dug through one of the bags and pulled out a Ziploc baggie half full of beef jerky, which she almost missed when he tossed it to her. "I'm sure you'll meet him soon enough." Beth wasn't sure she liked the sound of that. "Don't worry, he won't bite. 'Less ya wan' him to," he added as an afterthought. She definitely didn't like what he was implying.
"Is, um...is that your clothes?" she gestured at the duffel bag at the foot of his sleeping bag, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah," he grunted as he sat and stretched out on the sleeping bag, crossing one ankle over the other almost as a show of carefree confidence, like a display of authority within those nylon walls.
"Do you have any detergent?" She hadn't noticed a bottle anywhere.
"Ain't got none. Maybe one of the ladies in camp'll let ya use some a theirs."
Beth sat nervously near his feet, tucking her knees up under her chin. "Will you show me where they do laundry?"
"Ain't gonna be tonight. 'Sides, ain't got that much ta worry about just yet anyhow."
She took a piece of jerky out of the packaging and bit into it. As she chewed, she tried to sneak a peek into the duffel bag, seeing mostly hints of flannel of various colors. Beth looked over her shoulder at him with a sudden realization, "I don't have anything. No clothes or anything. Just what I got on now."
Daryl was nonchalantly picking at his fingernails, propping himself up on one elbow. "Figured as much. Couple guys are talkin' 'bout makin' a run into town in a couple days, pick up some blankets, food, anythin' they can find, really. I'll see if they can't get ya somethin'." He nodded at the duffel bag, "If ya need ta, ya can borrow whatever I got that'll fit ya." He finally looked up, letting his eyes meet hers, that same wicked grin crossing his face. "For a price," he added on.
Beth was suddenly hyperaware of her shirt, soaked with sweat and sticking to her skin, and miles from being laundry fresh. She gulped down her nervousness to ask, "What...what do you want?"
"Just a little kiss, darlin'" he answered, obviously trying to make his request sound innocent.
Beth's mouth went dry. "I..." she stammered, "I have a boyfriend."
Daryl's eyebrows shot up, "Already? Here at camp? Damn, girl, you move fast."
"No," she shook her head, "at home."
He sat up a little straighter, "Guess you didn't hear when I said, 'Home, sweet home,' didja? 'Sides, any little boy toy you got back on the farm is prob'ly half-eaten by now."
"I...I can't...I'm..."
"Hey," he said conciliatorily, "ya don't hafta change if ya don't want to. Hell, you don't even hafta stay with me...though I'm not sure anyone else is gonna wanna take in another mouth ta feed or one more person to watch over. Come ta think of it, me an' Merle prob'ly gonna do most-a the huntin' anyway, and ain't none a them gonna be able ta keep ya safer'n me." He chuckled, "Hell, they were still shootin' them fuckers in the chest til me an' Merle taught 'em different. It's gotta be the brain," he told her, pointing two fingers at his temple. "Most of 'em can't aim for shit, so the damn things gotta get right up on 'em before they can kill 'em." He shot her a look letting her know exactly what he thought of the rest of the inhabitants of the camp.
Beth sat there, nervously working her lower lip between her teeth, realizing just what she'd gotten herself into. "You said we could work something out...back in the forest where you found me. What...what did you mean?"
Daryl gave her a knowing look, one that sent chills down her spine. "Me an' you," he said, no trace of that smile on his stern face any longer. "I figure I keep you safe, keep you fed, three meals a day, you cook what I bring back, take care of laundry when we need it, and us..." he nodded at the sleeping bag, "three times a week...unless you end up wantin' more."
"Th...three times?"
"Well, damn girl," he started to get angry, his voice raising in volume, "three meals a day for three times a week? I think I'm bein' more than generous. I'll even go easy on ya and say it don't even have to be us bumpin' uglies. Long as you can get me off, we'll be even."
Neither of them spoke or moved for several minutes, Daryl apparently giving her time to think it over. Judging by the looks she got while she was walking through the camp, he was right – no one was going to be too thrilled at having to provide for her, regardless of any skills she might have. Leaving on her own wasn't even an option; she had no idea where she was or what direction she needed to go to even get close to finding her family again...if they were still alive, not to mention she had no way of defending or feeding herself. Still, she'd never done much more than kissing with any of her boyfriends (not that there were all that many to begin with). Now she was supposed to do that with basically a stranger? 'He said I just have to get him off...maybe I can stop us from doing that long enough to find my family,' she thought.
How else was she supposed to survive?
Accepting her ate, she whispered, "Can...can I change into one of your shirts?" not trusting her voice to come out without shaking.
He smirked and leaned across her to drag the duffel bag in front of him. As he did, they were suddenly incredibly close, and her heart started beating in her throat. He dug through the bag and pulled out a flannel button down shirt with the sleeves ripped off and dropped it in her lap. "That oughta work. You can do that thing where ya tie it off if it's too long on ya."
Beth picked up the garment and stood up, turning to face the corner in an effort to keep some of her modesty while she changed.
"Ah-ah-ah," he sing-songed mockingly. "Pay up, princess."
She turned around to see him standing, that wicked grin back on his face. Hands shaking, heart racing, she took timid steps forward until she was squared off with him in the middle of the tent. Beth scrunched her eyes shut and went up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
"You wanna try that again? Hardly worth a nice clean shirt, don't ya think?"
She puffed out a breath in an attempt to keep herself from crying, then tilted her chin up with her eyes closed, waiting for him to kiss her like he apparently wanted to. She expected him to be rough, demanding, forceful, and braced herself for the worst.
Instead, the kiss was light, at least at the beginning. His lips were deceptively soft, as were the hands that slid up her arms and rested on the sides of her neck; his forefingers ran along the length of her jawline, his thumbs grazing over the apple of her cheeks. He ever so slightly tilted her head opposite his, in complete control as he applied more pressure to her lips. He caught her lower lip between hers, nipping at her ever so slightly with his teeth as he moaned against her.
He pulled away, only to murmur, "Come on, princess. I can't be doin' all the work here," before kissing her again.
She brought up a shaky hand and gently curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, if anything just for something to hold on to. She pushed her mouth against his, kissing him back, letting her lips barely slip apart before he took advantage and licked into her mouth, his tongue just brushing against hers. He tasted of cigarettes, but there was something else, something spicy and warm, that had her tentatively seek out his tongue again. She felt him smile against her before he claimed her mouth, though not overbearingly so. He pulled back, ending the kiss, dropping one last peck on her now swollen lips.
Beth took a shaky breath in and released it slowly. No one had ever kissed her like that before. If she weren't so terrified of what this man could do to her, and what he was already doing to her, she would have sworn she felt...something...something that wasn't anything like the disgust she thought she would feel...should be feeling.
Neither of them moved from where they stood. Daryl only gestured with his chin toward the corner. "Go ahead and get changed. Gonna go clean a couple squirrels for ya to cook up for dinner." His voice was a low growl, but there wasn't a trace of threat in it.
Beth nodded, numbly, and moved with shaky knees back to the corner. She pulled her arms out of her sleeves, leaving the body of the shirt to hang from her neck, keeping her chest decently covered, as she shoved her arms into the arm holes of Daryl's flannel. She had just pulled her sweaty and grimy shirt over her head and started buttoning the flannel when someone yanked the tent flap open and burst in with a loud yet raspy voice.
"Hoo-ee, baby brother, what we got here?"
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