I know that last chapter was tough but it was a necessary evil. I'll post again on Monday! Thanks for reading and stay safe this weekend!
Chapter Six
As a rule, Daryl slept in on Sundays. This Sunday wasn't working out like most. Last night he had felt completely useless. He had picked up the phone several times, ready to call and see if Carol was alright. Call to see if maybe her husband had come home and smelled cheeseburger on her breath and beat the shit out of her. The fear in her voice earlier when she had told him she had to go made him think that her husband had come home in a foul mood.
He was doing some serious thinking. He had spent all these months in a haze, focusing on nothing but his job and the money he needed to put back to try to start his life. But what was he going to do if he did get away from his brother and the life he had always led? He would have his own place, sure, but then what? He hadn't thought of that. He hadn't thought about what he should do after that hurdle was past him. Did he try to settle down with some woman and start a family? Would he ever be that guy? Did he even want to be? Why the hell had he been so goddamn focused on getting away from this place and starting his life? Especially when he had no idea where the hell his life was going after he had a real home.
It was these thoughts and thoughts of her that kept him from sleep. He laid there most of the night, staring at the ceiling, thinking about where the hell his life was heading. And when he did wonder about settling down, settling all the way down, the only person those fantasies dredged up in his mind was Carol Peletier. And that only bothered him more for many reasons. First off, she was a married woman. Second, he didn't fucking know her. Did he? How the hell could someone consume his every thought when he had spent less than three hours of his life with her? He wasn't some sort of heads in the clouds type of guy. Things like this didn't happen to people. To care about someone you had to know them for a while. You had to spend time with them and build a relationship, right? And that wasn't only how things had to be with a potential lover either. You didn't say hello to a guy crossing the street and instantly consider him a friend just because he said hello right back. That wasn't the way any of this worked.
So why couldn't he get her out of his head? Why did he have to keep replaying the day over and over in his mind? Why did he lay there and think of things to do or say that would make her eyes light up like they had today? Because the chances of him ever seeing her again were damn slim. Fuck!
Finally he had crawled out of bed and quickly threw on some clothes. He grabbed his crossbow and left the warmth of the house, trudging to his truck. He would do a little hunting. It had been a while since he'd gone out to the woods and he missed it. It was where he had always gone to get himself grounded. He stopped at the gas station where Glenn worked so he could fill the truck up and grab something to snack on.
He wasn't surprised to see that Glenn was behind the counter. The guy worked just as much as Daryl did. "It's early for you on a Sunday isn't it?" Glenn asked.
Daryl nodded and grabbed a few bags of Jerkey.
"I figured you would be sleeping in this morning. I heard that you went on a date yesterday," Glenn said around a yawn as he scanned the items that Daryl had sat in front of him.
This was one of the things he hated about living in a town so damn small. He had forgotten that Tara and Glenn were pretty good friends. "You serious? You people ain't got anything better to do than gossip about me? It wasn't a date."
"You shared a sundae," Glenn deadpanned.
Daryl wasn't going to try to explain himself. Not today.
He heard the bell, indicating someone else was coming in. Normally he wouldn't have bothered even glancing back but when he saw Glenn, of all people, give the person a cold look, he did turn around.
"Good morning, Ed, Philip," Glenn said in a clipped tone.
Daryl felt his teeth slam together at hearing the name. Surely this was just some random guy that had nothing to do with Carol. His name was Ed for fuck's sake. There had to be a ton of those around. When he looked at the man, however, somehow he knew that this was him. This was the very guy. The one that terrorized a woman as goddamn kind as the one he had spent the afternoon with the day before. Someone that had no problems with grabbing her so hard that he bruised her skin.
Ed smiled wickedly and elbowed his friend. "It is now." His friend laughed and they turned down another isle. As soon as they were out of site Daryl turned back to Glenn, who was watching him curiously.
"Who the fuck is that?" Daryl asked.
Glenn scowled. "Ed Peletier. He's a real piece of crap. Word is, he beats on his wife. He treats people like dogs. That's his friend Philip and he isn't any better.
"I forgot somethin'. I'll be right back," Daryl said, barely able to keep his voice from shaking with anger. He took off down the isle next to the one the two men went down.
"... Can't believe she even got up from that last one," Philip was speaking and Daryl strained his ears to listen. "But she should have known not to talk to you like that. Especially in front of someone. I got worried after you took her upstairs. All that screaming probably carried. Glad you shut her up."
Ed made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "Trust me, you can't teach a dumb bitch new tricks. She's gonna push me until she isn't able to pull herself up off that floor."
"You think she called the cops?" Philip asked.
"She knows better by now. Last time she tried that I broke her dialing finger when I got home. That's why I'm glad we're taking this trip. I need away from that hag. A few nights in the city, a couple of strippers and a lot of alcohol. All that will do me some good and give her time to forget all about it. I'll bring her something back and she'll be nothing but smiles. Trust me."
"You're the expert," Philip chuckled.
"That I am," Ed said, a dark note in his voice.
Daryl took in all of this information with barely concealed rage. What the hell had he done to her? And why? That was the million dollar question. What the fuck could she have done to deserve it? He couldn't just stand there. If he had to hear either of them say another word then he would end up shooting them both right in their ugly fucking faces.
He stormed down the isle, forgetting all about grabbing something else to buy. He couldn't cause a scene here. He couldn't get himself arrested. If he did that then he wouldn't be able to do a damn thing for her. When he turned the corner to head for the door he ran right into Ed.
"Watch where the hell you're goin', boy," Ed said in a sharp voice.
Daryl would have been able to just walk away if he hadn't had to look at the guy but now that he was right there in Daryl's space, he didn't have that control. He shoved Ed with everything in him, and there was a lot of anger there to put into that shove. Ed's back hit the floor hard. "Yeah, I got your boy right here you piece of shit. Get up!"
Glenn jumped completely over the counter, grabbing Daryl by the arm and yanking him backwards as best he could. "Whao! Easy there Dixon!" He cried as he hauled Daryl back a few feet. Daryl let him, knowing he needed to get out of here before he ended up knocking Ed's head off.
"What the hell's your problem?" Ed roared, taking the hand the Philip offered him.
Ed was glaring when Daryl looked at him again but he saw something in that glare that he knew would be there. Fear. This asshole was fine with putting his hands on a woman that wouldn't hit him back but when it came to actually fighting someone that could beat his brains out, he wanted nothing to do with it.
Daryl yanked his arm out of Glenn's grip and stormed out of the small space, needing air. He welcomed the cold bite of winter once he was finally outdoors. He was trying to calm himself down before he saw either man again. He kept his back to the store as he pumped the gas he had already paid for. His hunting trip was going to have to wait.
He heard them when they exited the store but no one approached him. This didn't surprise him at all. Men like them didn't do things like that.
He waited until they pulled out, sure enough, they were heading in the opposite direction than he was going to be headed. He tore out of the parking lot like hell was on his heels, speeding ticket be damned. He wasn't thinking about what he would do when he got there. And when he got there he didn't waste any time at all. He pulled right up into her driveway and killed the engine. He stormed up to the door and knocked loudly. There was no answer, however, and his anxiety level shot through the roof. Was she not able to even get to the door? Jesus, was she lying in there bleeding?
His first impulse was to kick the door in. He refrained, however, deciding that the smart thing to do would be to just see if it was locked. It opened easily and he stepped inside with no hesitation at all. He strained his ears but the house was quiet. Maybe he should have been worried that Ed would come back but he wasn't. He hoped the mother fucker came back.
"Carol!" He called but he was answered with more silence.
He went through the spotless rooms, growing more and more anxious. He took the stairs two at a time. There were two bedrooms. One looked to be a guest bedroom and the other was the master bedroom. He walked right into the bigger room and then a door opened up and Carol stepped out, steam billowing out around her.
She stopped, her eyes bugging out of her head as she wrapped the towel more securely around herself. Her hair hung in damp strands, sticking to her face and shoulders. He studied her, looking for injuries but in the back of his mind he was taking note of other facts, like how that towel clung to her like a second skin, wrapping around curves that her baggy clothes hid well. Very well, because he had no idea that this was what she was covering up. He swallowed, his eyes taking her in a slow sweep. He was about to look away until he noticed the marks on her arms. Her legs were even worse, dark and angry, marring her pale skin. Her bottom lip was cut and her jaw was starting to bruise but other than that, she was alive.
"Daryl?" She choked, clinging to the towel like her life depended on it.
"I... I thought you needed me. Needed help. I..." His head was a mess, emotions fighting to come to the surface. Anger and hunger, warring and toxic and causing his heart to pound too hard and causing him to feel sick to his stomach.
"You can't be here," she squeaked, like she just realized he was standing there in her room. "If he comes back... You have to leave. I'm fine, really! But I won't be if you're here. Oh my God, go!" She walked up to him, her fear overriding her modesty. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out of her room.
He pulled away from her, careful to not move too fast. Now that she was closer he could make out more damage. Her wrists were bruised much worse than they had been yesterday. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. There were marks on her neck, across her collar bone. His fingers somehow made their way to her face, ghosting over the bruises there.
"Daryl, please," she whispered brokenly, new tears filling her eyes before she dropped her gaze.
He wasn't leaving. How could he? She was hurting, and it wasn't just from the bruises. She felt powerless to stop the hell that her life had become, she felt like she was completely alone, even with him standing there. She needed help and he couldn't walk away from that. Instead he surprised himself and took her hand, the one that wasn't holding on to the towel with all her strength, and pulled her towards him. Why in the hell did he care so goddamn much for this woman? He didn't want to care. Caring was fucking hard. But he did care and there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it. Nothing at all.
She was so tense that her body was shaking against his. Slowly, though, her arms inched around him, moving so hesitantly that it almost seemed like it hurt her to do it at all. Her face went to the crook of his neck and then a sharp tremor shook her before she tightened her hold on him and he felt her breath leave her in a rush, followed by a hiccup as she tried to inhale. And then the dam broke.
Her arms tightened around him so hard that if she had been stronger, it would have crushed his spine, the tension left her body and then she muffled a sob into his shirt. He wasn't sure how hurt she was so he didn't want to make it worse by holding her any closer. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing. So he just stood still, his arms around her lightly, hands resting on her back, and let her do what she needed to do. All the while he was swallowing down his rage. Her tears burned his skin and it seemed like they were never ending.
When she eventually stilled, what felt like a lifetime later, he eased her back enough so he could look at her again. She nearly lost the towel and struggled to hold onto it. His own face flamed.
"Pack a bag," I said out of the blue.
Her tortured eyes looked up, tear tracks causing his chest to tighten. She shook her head. "I'm fine, really. I just need to try harder is all. This was nothing."
"Pack a bag," he repeated.
"He just lost his temper. I can't just leave my home because of a fight. I can't just..."
"You leave with me or I stay. You make the choice." He was deadly serious. He wouldn't leave her here just like he hadn't been able to leave her on the side of the road. "This ends now."
She shook her head and a flash of anger tore through him.
"Are you ready to die?" He nearly shouted, stunning her into stillness. "Because that's what happens to women like you. They fucking die. He don't lose his temper and you know it. He hurts you because he fucking likes it. He's a sadistic piece of shit and he will kill you. Do you understand that? You're gonna say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, hell, blink the wrong way and he's gonna snap. He's gonna do it because he fucking can. He ain't your husband. He's never been your husband! He's your prison warden and you don't even see it. He's locked you up and you're either too scared or too stupid to do something about it but I ain't. You leave with me right now or I'll stay and he can be the one leavin' this place, and by the time I'm finished with him he'll be leavin' here in a goddamn body bag. That's your choice."
She looked at him like he was the one that had spent all these years hurting her and at this point he didn't even care. "You can't expect me to just walk out on my life."
He shook his head. "I wouldn't if you had one. You don't. Pack a goddamn bag, Carol, please. I swear to God he won't touch you again."
"I don't even have a place to go. I don't have any money and I don't have a job or a car or..."
"You got somebody that gives a fuck and that's more than you had yesterday. Hershel and Annette have two daughters that's moved away. They'd rent you one of their rooms. You could work for Hershel and you can save your money till you're on your feet. You could stay with me. You got options now, you're just to scared to take advantage of them. You're more scared of the unknown than you are of this." He gestured towards the marks on her body.
She looked down at herself like she just realized that she was still standing there in a towel. "If I did that he'd kill me."
"If you stay, he'll kill you. I won't let him touch you, I swear to God," he said in a low voice.
"Why? Why are you doing this?" She asked, searching his face.
He met her eyes then. "I have no fucking idea."