Sorry for the wait! Here's the next chapter and I hope you all enjoy it! :)


Part Twelve

A sign announcing they were in the city limits of Atlanta zoomed past them. Daryl's foot pressed more on the gas pedal and the needle on the speedometer continued to climb. They were almost there. Carol was almost within reach.

Merle, who had been lightly dozing against the window, jerked awake when he was pressed further back into his seat by the speed.

"Whoa, slow down, baby brother." His eyes widened when he looked to see how fast they were going. They were venturing into reckless driving territory. Luckily, there wasn't that many people on the road at the time. No cops, either.

"We're almost there." Daryl's foot didn't lessen on the peddle and he gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. Dark circles were under his eyes and Merle knew that he was running on fumes. They were lucky he had been able to stay on the road in this state.

"Yeah, but we won't be when you get pulled over and thrown in jail." Reckless driving not only could mean a large fine, but jail time, as well and Merle knew that was the last thing Daryl wanted to happen right now.

The speedometer needle went down a millimeter.

"Come on, Daryl," Merle continued to coax. "Why don't you take the next exit and let me drive?"

Daryl didn't even acknowledge that he had heard his brother. At least, he allowed the truck to slow down to a more acceptable speed.

"Tell me how to get that fucker's place," Daryl growled. His eyes never left the road.

Merle started. "We ain't goin' there right this second, bro."

"What?" Daryl snarled.

"We can't just walk up there with only half the money and expect him to be all right with that," he explained.

"You were the one who said we could."

"I lied."

Tires squealed. Merle almost flew through the windshield when Daryl suddenly pulled to the side of the road and stopped. Thank God he had worn his seatbelt.

"This is why I can never trust you, Merle." Daryl unbuckled his belt and looked at his brother. "You said that we'd be able to negotiate with him, since we've got half the money."

"I never said that it would work. Blake is a cold man and he wants his money. All of it. That girl got mixed up with the wr-"

"So, now you're blaming Carol?" Daryl was furious. "It wasn't her fault that you decided to run from the maniac without paying off your debt. She's done nothin' wrong."

"Except screw a Dixon."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Daryl hissed.

"Is it because she's your first screw, Daryl? Is that why you are so dead set on risking your's and my life to get her back?" Merle unclipped his own belt.

"What the fuck are talkin' about? Thought you were sorry this all happened and you said you'd do anythin' to get her back. What's changed?"

Merle sighed and ran a hand down his face. "I've been thinkin'. She's jus' one girl, Daryl. There's plenty of them out there."

"None of them are and will never be Carol." He turned back to the steering wheel and turned the key. The truck came to life with a roar. "If this is how you're goin' to be, then you can get the fuck out and walk back to Manhattan."

The two brothers stared at each other for several moments. Merle could see that Daryl was not going to budge. He regretted going hot and cold on him, but the long care ride had got him thinking. Were they really risking their lives for a woman Daryl had just met? True, it was his fault Carol was in this mess, but if she had gone right home after spending the night with his brother, like all the women he'd brought to the apartment, then she wouldn't have gotten involved in all of this shit.

Then, Daryl would be dead... A voice in his head, which Merle usually ignored, said.

If that girl hadn't opened the door and Daryl had, Blake would have shot him. There was no doubt about that. Blake had come all the way to Manhattan to give Merle a lesson and killing his brother, the only family he had left, would have done the job.

Carol had saved Daryl's life and she probably didn't even know it.

Merle was still afraid that after Blake got all his money, he'd still kill Daryl. It was something he knew the man was capable of doing and would probably do, if he really wanted to.

Daryl was still waiting for his decision.

"Fine, I'll go with you." He reached for his seatbelt and clicked it back in place. "But we ain't goin' straight to Blake's place." Daryl gave him a sharp look, but he ignored it. "We gotta have a plan. We can't just burst in there and expect everythin' to go well. We don't even have any weapons."

"Will we need some?"

Merle fixed his brother with an 'Are you fucking kidding me?' look. "Course we will. Blake never checks his visitors for weapons, but always keeps two of his men right behind him in case someone does try to draw on him."

"Well, then, where are we goin' to get some guns and shit? We have no money to get some."

"Know a guy. Name's Axel. He owes me a bit for savin' his ass a couple times. We can crash at his place, get ourselves a decent plan and he'll have some guns for us to loan. He also owes me about a hundred bucks, which means we can actually get ourselves a decent meal. I'm starvin'."

Daryl didn't argue with the plan and turned back on to the highway. "Tell me where this Axel guy lives."

~D-C~

The first place Carol had gone to when Shane left the room, was the bed. It had to be the comfiest bed she'd ever been in and even though she was fully dressed, shoes and all, she felt her eyes begin to droop. On the drive there, she had barely gotten a wink of sleep, since she was so close to Phillip. She never wanted to close her eyes around him. Ever. There was no telling what that man could or would do to her if she had.

When someone knocked on her door, she didn't even want to get up and answer it. Lifting her head from one of the fluffiest pillows was even proving to be difficult.

"Carol?" The voice was muffled through the door, but she knew that it was Rick. "You decent? I'm coming in, so hopefully you are."

The door opened and Rick stepped into the room. Carol say him sigh in relief when he saw that she was fully clothed. In his hands he held a plate that was still steaming and her stomach growled. At the restaurant, she barely picked at her meal.

Rick handed the plate to Carol and she saw that it was full of spaghetti and green beans. "The cook is off today, so Shane made that. Don't know if it's a hundred percent edible, though."

"It looks good." Carol smiled and set the plate in her lap to eat.

"Why don't you eat it outside?" Rick suggested. "There's a chair and table out there."

Some fresh air did sound nice. "Okay." Rick took the plate from her lap and she climbed out of the bed, only mourning the comfiness for a little bit. She'd return to it after her meal, she promised.

"Thank you," she said once he handed back her plate when she sat down on the chair. There was only one on the balcony, so Rick leaned against the railing.

Carol didn't mind the company, even though he didn't speak. As she ate, she studied him and noticed that he looked considerably cleaner than the last time she had seen him. Now, he looked quite handsome with his dark hair swept from his face and those piercing blue eyes. However, those eyes had nothing on Daryl's.

Her stomach clenched at the thought of him. What was he doing right now? Was he still on his way or had he turned around, thinking nothing could be done about rescuing her?

"Something wrong?" Rick's voice broke her reverie. "Oh God, the food made you sick, didn't it? I am so sorry. Shane isn't the best cook. Here, let me ta-"

"The food's great." Carol offered him a smile and took another bite to prove her point. "Just got lost in my thoughts for a second." The food tasted like ash in her mouth, though. Her appetite was gone, but she was going to force herself to eat. It had been good before the thoughts of Daryl entered her mind.

"Okay, that's good." Rick looked relieved and went back to his spot on the railing.

"So, are you in charge of guarding me or something?" Carol decided she'd attempt some conversation, especially since it looked like he wouldn't be leaving soon. Not that she minded the company. It was loads better than Phillip's. Or, she shuddered, Ed's. She still couldn't believe that Ed was here. Things really couldn't get any worse.

"Actually, I am. Blake is resting in his room for the afternoon and he asked, well more like ordered, me to keep on eye on you. Shane's doing a little investigating, right now."

Carol's ears perked. "Investigating?"

Rick looked around and then, leaned close. "Can I trust you?"

"I don't ever want to look at Phillip, again, let alone talk to him. I hate the man. So, yes, you can trust me."

Rick didn't say anything for several seconds. "Okay," he finally spoke. "You can't say a word to anyone. What Shane and I are doing is very important and I shouldn't risk it by telling you, but I don't think you'll say anything."

Carol shook her head. This was the man who had let her call Daryl at the restaurant and who had promised they would keep her safe from Ed. She would never break his trust. She owed him.

"We're police officers," he blurted. "Blake killed a nephew of an old friend of ours. We know he did it, but we don't have proof."

Carol gave him an odd look.

"We haven't found the murder weapon or the body."

"Then ho-"

"Randall walked into this house and never walked out. Dale found out about his dealings with Blake about a week before he disappeared. Dale confronted him and of course, he denied it. Then, one day he was just gone. The department has been trying to get Phillip Blake on something, but have always come up empty-handed. He's a smart man." Rick shifted in place and ran a hand through his hair, which surprisingly didn't mess it up. "So, when Shane and I offered to go undercover, they jumped at the idea."

"How long have you been undercover?"

"A couple months and we don't have much. Blake has described Randall and how he had to 'take care of him' but hasn't said him by name and when the police came to investigate, they didn't find anything. A week ago, he sent me to New York to keep on eye on one of his employees who he thought was playing him and instead, I found Merle Dixon."

"And you just decided to turn him in?"

"I had to," he sighed. "If I hadn't, Blake would have found out and our cover would have been blown. I didn't know he was going to take you instead of the younger Dixon. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Carol wanted to reach out to Rick, but kept her hand close to her lap. "You had no way of knowing that I, or anyone, would be there."

"We need to find some substantial proof, soon, because I fear what Blake has in store for you."

~C-D~

Axel lived in a tiny apartment in a bad part of Atlanta. Daryl wished he could have said he'd seen worse, but it wasn't true. Merle had dragged him to all manner of places. Their place in New York was one of the nicer apartments they found themselves living in.

Daryl parked on the street outside the building and Merle led the way up the stairs.

"Hope the bastard is up," Merle said as he pressed the buzzer for Axel's room. Daryl didn't say anything and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants.

"Who is it?" A static-y voice spoke through the speakers.

"Merle."

"Merle?" The disembodied voice sounded confused. "Haven't seen you in awhile? How you been?"

"Why don't you let me up and we can talk, then?"

"Oh! Right." The door buzzed and unlocked. "Come on up." Merle rolled his eyes and motioned for Daryl to get the door.

Axel's room was on the second floor and the building didn't have an elevator, so they had to take the stairs. The walls of the building were thin and they could hear the goings on of many of the tenants as they walked down the hall. It brought memories to Daryl. Not good ones. He and Merle had stayed in a building where they lived next to a drunk and his wife. Every night Daryl would lie in his bed and listen to the shouts and screams of his neighbors. The man hit his wife, that he was sure of, but there was nothing he could do. He was glad when Merle got them out of there.

Merle knocked on one of the doors and it swung open before he could finish the knock. A man with a red handlebar moustache and unkempt clothes stood there with a smile. For a second, Daryl thought he would give Merle a hug. That would have not ended well.

"Come on in!" Axel motioned excitedly. He must not have gotten many visitors.

Daryl and Merle went straight to the couch in the living room, which looked like it was the only piece of furniture in the room besides an old, worn coffee table.

"Do you any of you want a beer?" Axel's voice came from the direction of the kitchen.

"I'll take one," Merle said and nudged Daryl, who shook his head. "Daryl doesn't want one, though."

Axel appeared moments later with two beers in hand and a chair in the other. After handing Merle a beer, he set down the chair and took a seat. "So, what brings you two here?"

"Well," Merle took a swig from the bottle. "I've come to cash in on those favors you owe me and, oh yeah, that hundred bucks, too."

If the sudden demands bothered Axel, he didn't show it. "Let me finish this and then, I'll get your money."

"Really?" Daryl couldn't help but blurt.

"Course. I've been waiting for Merle to collect it for awhile, now. No matter what, I pay off all my debts."

Maybe coming here wasn't such a bad idea. Daryl settled back into the lumpy couch. It wasn't comfortable by any means, but he found himself dozing off. Driving straight through the night was taking its toll on him.

The smell of something delicious woke Daryl up from his nap. He didn't even know he had fallen asleep until he sat up straighter and saw a Styrofoam container of still steaming food in front of him. Merle and Axel's voice floated in from the kitchen and Daryl saw that he was alone, as well. How long had been asleep?

His stomach rumbled and he reached for the food, which was a burger and some fries. It reminded him of the last meal he had with Carol. What was she doing now? Was Blake feeding her or did he have her locked up in some kind of dungeon?

The container in his hands creaked as he began to squeeze it in his anger, and forced himself to calm down unless he wanted his food to spill all over the dirty floor. Despite thinking about Carol being locked up, he was still hungry and he ate the food in front of him. Once Carol was rescued, he'd take her to gate a seven course meal if she wanted.

"Yo, Daryl, you up yet?" Merle called.

"Yeah," he answered and ate the last fry in the container.

"Well, get your ass in here. We have some things to run by you."


Thanks for reading! :)