Beth
Light pours out of the bathroom as my eyelids peel open, feeling gritty and sore as pain radiates through my head. Memories of the night before come flooding back, and I remember why it feels like I've been hit by a truck: I literally drank myself into oblivion, and the only thing that's hammered now is the inside of my skull.
My eyes briefly close as an unwelcome feeling snakes deep into my gut and claws its way through me, leaving me in shreds. I try to pretend like it's not there, but it's chewing me up. I push it away, because that's just what I do now. I bottle anything that makes me uncomfortable up and shove it so far down me that I can pretend it's not there and I'm some semblance of okay. That's the only thing I can do, because I'm afraid to look too closely at myself. I already know my insides are ugly and twisted, so why bother trying to figure out how far the damage spreads?
Unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I ignore the bitter taste flooding it, because it has nothing to do with morning breath or the three bottles of red I drank last night and everything to do with how hard I'm trying to run away from my feelings. I groan and bury my face in the pillow. I'm not ready to face the day. I'm not ready to face myself.
When I hear footsteps, I open my eyes. Daryl's coming out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth and glass of water in hand. He hands me the water and points to two white pills on the bedside table before disappearing back into the bathroom.
I take the pills and down half of the water. The tiny bit of movement has my head spinning. Is it possible I'm still drunk? Surely not. The bed feels like it's spinning beneath me, though. I put my foot on the ground to steady myself, but that's spinning too. I suddenly have a thought. What if I'm the one that's spinning? I place my hand on the end table next to the bed experimentally, and it starts to spin. Jesus. I drag my leg back onto the bed and take deep breaths. I need to get my act together. What was I thinking? Falling off the wagon like that. Daddy would be so disappointed if he knew what I were turning into. Ugh.
And at least the night didn't completely suck. Daryl's back. And he so sweet. He made me breakfast in the middle of the night. It's almost enough to make me forget the knotted up feeling deep in my stomach.
When Daryl comes back into the room, my eyes are less bleary and I get a good look at him. His damp hair is curled at the edges, so I know he just got out of the shower. He's wearing a sleeveless flannel and black jeans, ripped at the knee. I frown, because his boots are already on. It's still dark out. I'm usually the one that sneaks out before dawn.
I sit up a little, ignoring the pounding and spinning in my head, as I reach for the glass of water. "Why are you up so early?" My voice cracks with the first words of the day.
He sits on the side of the bed and a crooked smile touches his mouth as he looks at me. "Got shit to do."
I take a sip of the water and trace my finger around the rim, wondering how to broach the subject of last night. Before I can get anywhere, he leans in and his thumb grazes my jaw. He smells woodsy and fresh. I want to bottle the scent up and give it to myself for Christmas.
"Go back to sleep." His voice is soft as his rough fingers slip under my chin and gently tip my head back, forcing me to look at him. "The Earth ain't gonna come of its axis just 'cause you're takin' a day off. You need the rest."
Despite the smile toying with my lips, I manage to roll my eyes. "Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?" Which, in fairness, I probably do.
"Nah." He wraps a stand of my hair around his index finger and toys with the end. "You look perfect."
Caught off-guard, I blink and look down, feeling the all too familiar heat of a blush coloring my cheeks. Daryl chuckles and stands up. "I'll draw the curtains," he says. "Sleep in. I'll check on you later."
Setting the glass aside, I nod my head. My eyelids do feel heavy. A little extra rest certainly won't kill me. I close my eyes and lay back down. I feel the faint brush of his lips against my forehead before I drift back to sleep.
When I wake for the second time, there's a small sliver of sunlight streaming in through a crack in the curtains. My head's still killing me, but I feel better. I haven't been able to sleep in like this since before the turn, and this bed is comfortable. It smells like Daryl; I'm not ready to get up. But before I can pull the covers over my head and fade back into sweet oblivion, my blurry eyes focus and I notice the silver tray beside the bed. I sit up, instantly awake. There's a plate, covered with a silver dome, to keep whatever's underneath warm. But more important than that is the bouquet of flowers beside it.
Five sunflowers. Bound together by a thin twine of rope.
The grin on my face is so wide I'm surprised it hasn't split my cheeks. I press my palm to my chest just to make sure I'm still here.
Daryl Dixon picked flowers for me.
Once I manage to get out of bed, I cut the stems of the flowers down and place them in the glass I was using for water. Then I dig into the lunch Daryl brought up. Soup and bread. Perfect for this monster of a hangover. After that I take a long shower and get dressed for the day, which I mostly slept away.
I drop the tray off in the kitchen and make my way to Maggie's room. We've both made mistakes, but we're gonna have to work through them. I want to be part of Hope's life. I want to figure out where my place is here. I can't keep pushing everything away. I have to let some of it in. Everything will come crashing down on me at once if I don't.
I knock on her door frame lightly. I can hear her humming softly, so I know she isn't sleeping. I'm sure there won't be much of that going on for the next few weeks.
"Come in!"
I lean my crossbow up against the wall beside the door and enter. She's sitting up in bed, Hope cradled in her arms as she rocks her back and forth. Her entire face lights up when she sees me, and I automatically feel a twinge of guilt for being so standoffish with her. This is my sister. This is Maggie.
I stand at the end of the bed for a moment, feeling awkward, until she waves me over. As soon as I sit down in the chair beside the bed, she hands Hope over. There's no hesitation, and it feels natural and right. I look down at the little bundle of joy in my arms in complete awe. The one who might actually bridge the gap between her mother and I.
"I still can't believe you're a mom," I murmur, hooking my finger through Hope's tiny hand.
She laughs and rakes a hand through her hair. "You're telling me."
We sit in silence for a while, me rocking Hope while Maggie watches with tearful eyes, until she finally asks, "You remember when Momma used to make us help in the nursery at the church?"
I nod my head, feeling the corners of my mouth lift. "You hated it."
She gives me a wry grin. "I was no good with them. As soon as one of them started crying, I'd just hand 'em off to you. You were like Momma. You just had a way with them, you know? I was never like that. Hell, I hardly paid attention while we were there."
I laugh a little, because she's right. She'd spend the entire day talking about boys, scrunching up her nose when one of the babies spit up on her. And she damn sure wasn't changing any of the diapers. That's all they were to her then. Little poop machines.
She places her hand on my knee as her voice gets all soft on me. "When I found out I was pregnant, I was so scared, Beth. So scared. I just kept prayin' that something would bring you back to me, because you'd know what to do. And then like some kind of miracle, Daryl brought you here. I was so damn caught up with getting you back that I never even stopped to think . . . or apologize."
I open my mouth to say something, but she squeezes my knee, cutting me off. "Let me finish. After the prison, I made a lot of mistakes. Seeing that happen to Daddy just shut me down in an ugly way. I couldn't even think about you. I mean, you're my kid sister. You spent your whole life looking up to me, and I was supposed to keep you safe. Knowing that I didn't—that I let you down—tore me to pieces.
"I channeled everything I had into finding Glenn, and I know that wasn't fair. But I just—I couldn't think about you. I felt like a failure. I felt like I let Daddy down. So I pushed all of it away and buried it deep, and I know it wasn't right. I know I messed up, and I would do anything to take it back.
"And then when I finally got you back, you'd changed. Honestly, it scared me. I didn't recognize you anymore, and I felt responsible. For letting you be out there on your own for so long. I should have been better to you when you got here, but I didn't know how. I guess I expected things to be the way they used to, and when they weren't, it made me panic."
She lets out a long, shaky breath. "So I'm saying sorry for everything. I know that doesn't make any of this okay, but I plan on making things right with you. I'm not gonna stop trying. You're our family, Beth. And I want you to be in my life. I hope you want me to be in yours too."
A single tear rolls down my cheek when she's done. I know I need to apologize too, but I'm so overcome with emotion I can't get anything out. I put my hand over hers and squeeze, hoping my eyes convey everything I'm feeling.
"I want you in my life, Maggie," is all I'm able to choke out. "I do."
We have a chance. We can fix this.
Daryl
It takes all damn day to unload, inventory, and stock the supplies we brought back. I stop by the kitchen and grab a few pieces of dried venison and a peach for dinner. I'm headed for the stairwell when the faint sound of a piano filters to my ears.
I follow the noise down the hall, past the dining room and the infirmary, to a sitting area with a fireplace, cocktail tables, and an old bar. No one ever hangs out around here. Sounds like someone is tonight, though.
I hear her before I see her—Beth. She's singing softly, but I can't make out the words until I round the corner. She's sitting at the piano, and my lips stretch into a grin when I hear what she's singing. Didn't think I'd ever hear Beth Greene covering some old rap song by Blackstreet, but here we are. Her version is soft and slow. Sweet. Some of the cocktail tables are pushed out of the way, and Lemon and Adam are dancing—if you could call it that. They're leaned up against each other, forehead-to-forehead, like they're the only thing keeping each other up. Lemon has Adam's face between her hands.
"Hey, hey," she slurs, blinking hard like she's trying to get his attention. "I love you. You know that, righ'?"
He gets this sappy, shit-eating grin on his face and looks like he's dangerously close to melting in a puddle at her feet. "I love you more. Like way more."
Fuck. What is this? A damn romance novel? There's a half-empty bottle of vodka nearby, so I know they're drunk off their asses. What's with everyone trying to drink themselves into liver failure lately?
Ignoring the sick display of puppy love, I wait until Beth finishes the song and filters into the next to cross the room and sit on the piano bench beside her, facing out toward Lemon and Adam, who are stumbling from side to side and giggling like teenagers now.
Her fingers still on the keys as she glances over at me. She smiles, and I swear it reaches into my body and makes me stomach flip flop. Her lips are this perfect pink color and shaped like a little bow. Jesus. One glance at her mouth and every dirty scenario I've ever played out in my head comes tumbling back through.
A dozen different emotions take residence in my body. One second, I wanna push Beth up against a wall and fuck her senseless, and the next I wanna construct a ten-foot wall to protect her from the very vivid fantasies looping through my brain.
Her eyes are clear and blue, so I know she hasn't been enjoying that bottle of Belvedere. I nudge my chin toward Lemon and Adam. "You babysittin'?"
"Mhm." She nods her head and takes her hands off the keys. "Something like that."
I press one of the keys down, and it makes a low sound. "Why don't you play some more?"
"Because three's a crowd, Mr. Dixon." Her voice is light, playful. "And this is a private show."
"That never stopped you before," I point out.
"Yeah, well, it's different now."
I'm trying to decide if it's a subtle dig at me for being suck a dick that night at the shine shack when she starts playing again. This song is a bit faster. And sweeter. I get a little lost in the way the notes come out of her mouth sounding so saccharine and clean and the way her fingers dance over the keys. She watches me from the corner of her eye with a little smirk as she sings the next verse, and it's doing crazy things to my heart.
Nobody likes us at this party
Nobody likes us on this couch
We can't stop eating the candy
We can't stop making out
The girl in the corner knows the story about the first night we met
She keeps asking 'Why aren't you together yet?'
And I've got my hands in your heart
You've got your hands in my hair
I don't know these people, let them stare
And I've got you wrapped around my finger
You've got me wrapped up in your chest
We keep whispering 'Why aren't we together yet?'
I have to get her upstairs. Right now. The urge to pound on my chest like a caveman and drag her straight to my bed is almost overwhelming. She's just so damn sweet. I need to taste her. I'm not a complete animal though, so I let her finish the song. Then I catch one of her hands in mine and tilt my head toward the exit. "Wanna get outta here?"
Her eyes flick to Lemon, looking uncertain about leaving them. I run my thumb over her knuckles. "Those two ain't gonna mind. Trust me." They didn't even notice when I came in. Probably can't see straight. It won't be long before they stumble over to the first soft surface they can find and pass the fuck out. Plus Duke is nearby. That smart ass dog can keep them out of trouble better than most people around here.
She nods, and I pull her up, barely giving her enough time to get her fingers around the strap of her crossbow before I'm pulling her toward the stairwell. We're both out of breath by the time we hit the fourth floor, and it makes her laugh, but I can't even be ashamed about my hurried pace. I want to get her alone. I need to get her alone.
Once we're inside my room, I flip on the bathroom light, and it illuminates the entryway. I set my bow down, and she does the same with hers. I'm gonna ask her to hunt with me tomorrow. I wanna know how good she's gotten with it. But right now, I've got other shit planned.
She's got the same look on her face that I've got to be wearing on mine. It starts with "want" and ends with "you," but there's a whole lot of mental undressing in the middle. We stare at each other, and in the seconds that pass, there's an unspoken conversation about need and desire, and her eyes darken. I slowly close the distance, my lips brushing against hers as my fingers slip through her belt loops and tug her close.
Her tongue is tentative and flirty, dipping and stroking against mine in a way that has my heart pounding like a drum. All I can smell is the scent of her shampoo, her skin, and the sweetness of apples on her breath.
Her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, and she pushes me backward, farther into the room. When the backs of my knees bump into the bed, I wrap my arms around her waist and fall back. She giggles as we land on the mattress with a "omph." I love that sound. I wanna catalog it. Fucking put it on repeat to drown out all the bad in this new world. She makes all of that go away, and if that's not magic, I don't know what is. I don't care if that makes me a pussy. I mean it.
I scoot across the bed until my back is against the headboard and drag her across my lap so she's straddling me. When she wiggles in my lap, my dick roars to life. Her hands cup my face as her tongue dances with mine, my fingers running up the sides of her bare legs. I'm amazed at how soft and smooth her skin is. I want to lick and kiss every inch of her, until I've memorized her taste. I slow the pace, nibbling on her lip and jaw before I drop down to her neck. I stop and grip her to me, trying not to ravage her.
"Daryl," she pants.
That's all it takes. Her voice in my ear, and I'm back in a frenzy. My mouth opens and I bite down on the smooth skin of her neck before placing a soothing kiss over the spot. Her breath catches in her throat, and she rocks against me so softly, I don't even know if she realizes she's doing it. The feel of her skin beneath my hands is so fucking intense, I don't even know how to explain it. It's like she's infected me. Like she's running through my veins with my blood. And I don't want to get her out. Ever. I like it.
I close my eyes and pause, resolving to not rush this. I pull away and she stills.
That sexy pink mouth is hanging half open, lips shiny because she just licked them. "Touch me." She presses a kiss to my jaw. "I want you to touch me."
So far, I've mostly kept my hands in safe places—her back, her hips, her shoulders—but spurred by her words, my hands grip her perfect ass, grinding her against my erection until we both moan.
When she arches up, I run my hands down the the backs of her thighs and then back up, letting my fingertips skirt beneath the hem of her shorts. I feel the soft fabric of her panties and trace along the edge of them.
"Do you know what you do to me?" My voice comes out rusty. She presses a kiss my corner of my mouth in response, her fingers kneading my shoulders.
My head dips to the hollow of her neck as I strain against my jeans. I'm so hard you could take my pulse with my cock. I'm fucking dizzy, because a certain appendage is siphoning off all my blood.
I will not have sex with her tonight. I will not take it that far. She's not the kind of girl I fuck like that. This is Beth.
The words are still knocking around in my head when she tilts her hips and presses against my length again. The soft skin covering her collarbone absorbs the low, tortured groan that leaves me.
"Fuck, Beth."
She runs her hands from my shoulders to my biceps, tilting her fingers just enough to scratch lightly, leaving a trail of fire. I reach down and pull her shirt off, and the sight of her lacy bra has me zeroing in on her lush, perky breasts.
I lock eyes with her first, silently asking permission. When she nods, I snake one arm around her back and unlatch the snap. The second it's off, her hands pull my head down until my mouth is wrapped around her skin. My tongue flicks over one of her nipples, making her whimper. I tease her other with my fingers before switching to give them equal attention.
When I'm sure I'm about to lose my mind, I wrap my arm around her waist and roll her beneath my body. She claws at my shirt, and I lean up long enough to tug it over my head. On her back, she's even smaller. Her hair's spread out on the pillow, surrounding her head, like a halo. How fitting.
She lifts her hips and grinds them against mine. She's getting impatient, and I love it. I pin her wrists above her head as I make a slow descent down her body. Everything about this woman is perfect. Her smooth skin. Her beautiful breasts. Her tight, flat stomach. I kiss my way down her neck and across her clavicle, placing little nips and licks as I go. Her head drops to the side as she lets out a strangled moan. I release her hands, and they thread through my hair.
I drag my lips down her body, watching as the muscles tighten and her skin breaks into goose bumps wherever my lips touch down. When I reach her hips, I look up at her. Her eyes are glazed and dilated, wanting.
I kiss across her abdomen, then retrace my trail. I can't believe she's real. And she's here. And she's mine. I lean back long enough to undo her belt and drag her shorts off. Her panties are light pink, and they're making my vision blur. Fuck. My dick twitches in my jeans.
Her hands tug at my hair as my fingertips skirt up the insides of her thighs. The more she moans the closer my lips and hands come together, until my mouth is just north of her clit and my fingers are brushing along the final scrap of fabric separating us.
She bucks her hips against me. "Daryl, please."
Mmm, I like it when she begs. I smile and press a kiss to the sensitive spot just inside her thigh. "Tell me what you need, Beth. I'll give you whatever you want."
"You," she breathes. "I need you."
I need you.
The words bounce around my brain like a pinball, lighting up every sex-starved cell in my body. I growl and bite into the soft fabric of her panties. She lifts her hips, and I drag them down without breaking her gaze. I slip them off her heels and slide my way back up her body, stopping to caress the soft skin behind her knee. It makes her shiver.
"I have to taste you," I tell her. Then I dip my head and stroke my tongue over her soft, wet folds. She's salty and sweet, and the sensation of having my mouth on her has me damn close to forgetting my name. Her fingers dig into my shoulders with every pass of my tongue as I get closer and closer to her clit until finally I settle over the sensitive bundle of nerves. My dick is pressing against my jeans so hard it hurts, but I don't care. This isn't about me. This is about her.
Look at me being all selfless and shit.
She grips my biceps and rocks her hips as a breathy moan tumbles out of her mouth, making my eyes screw shut so tight that I see stars. I slip one finger inside her and stoke in time with the swirling motions of my tongue. God those moans. Every single sound she makes feels like a bolt of lightning through my body. She's so damn responsive. I could make her feel so many fucking things.
When I slip a second finger in, her head thrashes against the pillow and her fingers scratch at the sheets, her muscles coiling tighter and tighter. It's not long before she's trembling and bucking against my mouth.
She comes apart with a deep shudder and a loud cry. I milk her orgasm for a few more seconds, wringing every last "oh, God" and "Daryl" from her writhing body. When she finally lets out a ragged sigh, I move up her body and kiss her deeply.
I pull away and there's a smile playing over her lips. She touches them like they're tingling. "You taste like you," she mumbles. "Mixed with . . . me."
I laugh and roll off of her, propping myself up with my elbow as I press a kiss to her shoulder, my stubble scratching at the delicate skin. She sits up and presses my chest down until I'm laying back.
"I'd never had a . . . you know . . . until that, um, morning with you. That was my first ever." Pink suffuses her cheeks, and her blue eyes stare back at me, wild and a little unsure.
I cock one of my brows. I know exactly what she's trying to say, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna try my damnedest to coax it out of her. "Your first ever what?"
She drops her eyes to the comforter and starts tracing circles with her index finger. "You know what I mean, Daryl."
"I wanna hear you say it." I brush my finger over her knuckles to put a stop to her nervous circles. "Ain't a dirty word, Greene."
"An orgasm," she says it in a hushed whisper. Like it absolutely is a dirty word.
I have to press my lips together to stop my smirk. She's still blushing, and I can't help myself. I want to make her squirm. "Mmm, do you like it when I make you come?" I keep my eyes locked on hers while I toy with the ends of her hair, loving the way her blush crawls all the way down her neck and over her collarbones.
She rolls her eyes and lifts her hand to shove me, but I catch it in my own and pull her toward me. Until our lips are inches apart. "Say it, Greene. Tell me you like it."
"I like it when you make me come," she breathes as her gaze drops to my lips. "A lot."
I slide my hand behind her jaw and direct her mouth down to mine. Her lips mold to mine as I absorb her gasp. When our tongues touch, she shivers. I kiss her softly, slowly at first, just content to explore her mouth with light presses of our lips and gentle sweeps of our tangled tongues. But then our breathing speeds, and slow and soft turns into a desperate, frenzied mix of lips and limbs.
She drags her mouth away from mine with a pant. Then her lips blaze a trail of feather-light kisses along my jaw as her fingertips skim down my chest, over my abdomen, stopping just above my waistband. It feels like my heart's declared war on my chest with the way it's slamming into my ribcage right now.
When she reaches for my belt, I put my hand over hers, stopping her. "Beth."
Her eyes flick up to mine and she frowns. "You don't want me to?"
"It's not that." I speak slowly, careful not to offend her. "Just don't want you to feel like you have to return the favor. That was about you and nothin' else."
"But I want to take care of you," she says softly. "Teach me . . . Please?"
I swallow hard, unable to answer. She draws one of her legs over my hips and leans down to kiss me, slow and deliberate, persuading me until I'm fucking putty in her hands. When she kisses down my neck, every last rational thought in my brain vanishes. Just—poof. Gone.
She continues to make a path to my hips, leaving hot patches of wet skin in her wake as her fingertips trace the ridges between the muscles of my abdomen. She looks at me from beneath mile-long lashes as she undoes my belt then flicks the button of my jeans open. My head feels heavy as she pulls my zipper down, and I fight to keep my vision focused. If she keeps looking at me like that, I might come in my jeans.
She tugs on my pants until they're past my hips, and I kick them the rest of the way off. I want to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming when she runs the tip of her tongue along the skin just above the waistband of my boxers. I realize I'm holding my breath and remind myself to breathe, but my inhale is cut short when she pulls the band of my boxers down and wraps her hand around my dick.
I exhale through my teeth, short and loud, and she looks up at me. "Will you show me how?"
This woman is gonna fucking kill me. My arms are shaking, but I manage to take her hand and guide her. Not that she needs any help. The moment her soft hand strokes down my dick and back up, my vision starts to blur. It takes everything I can to keep my eyes open, but she's holding my gaze, and it's so damn sexy I can't look away.
When she seems comfortable, I let my hand fall away, gripping the sheets like they're the only thing keeping me on the ground. The moment my head drops back against the pillow, her tongue runs up the length of me. My vision goes dark and only comes back in silver pinpricks of bursting light.
"Beth, wait. You don't—"
She silences me by wrapping her mouth around my dick. All the air in my lungs up and evaporates.
On one hand, I want to slow her down and tell her she doesn't have to do this. Or at the very least, get some sort of confirmation that she does want to do this. But at the same time, my literal hand is threading into her hair, urging her not to stop. I sit up half way and open my mouth to say God knows what, but she reaches up and pushes me back down, her subtle way of saying sit still and shut up.
That's exactly what I do when she wraps one hand around my base and begins pumping it up and down in rhythm with her mouth, all the while sucking me harder and faster. There's nothing but fireworks every time I close my eyes, taking up more and more of my vision as I feel the warm, familiar tingle of an orgasm working it's way down my spine.
The muscles in my legs get tense first, my abs are next, and it crawls all the way to my shoulders, my entire core getting tighter and tighter until the only sound I can hear is the pumping of blood in my ears. And I know this is it—the point of no return. Where there's no stopping the animalistic need barreling through me.
"Beth." The word is nothing but a ragged pant as I try to scoot from beneath her. "I'm there, baby."
She digs her hands into my hips and presses her mouth down farther, taking me in even deeper as the last shred of controlled man flies out the window and everything spirals out of control. I come in her mouth, tingly warmth spreading through my entire body.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
She stays put until I stop pulsing. I'm still caught up in the waves of sunshiny bliss coursing through my body when she runs her tongue up the length of me and kisses the tip of my dick. When she folds my boxers back up, I take a few more ragged breaths and open my eyes.
She's sitting back on her heels. Her eyes look apprehensive. "Was I . . . okay? I mean, did I do it right?"
"You're joking, right?" I grab her hand and tug her toward me until she's tucked beneath my chin. "You were unbelievable." I lean back and tilt her chin up, so I can press a kiss to her lips.
I'm overwhelmed. The way a kid is the first time he realizes that space is somehow infinite and expanding. Yeah, scared shitless. This woman. She could ruin me. She could splinter me until I'm in so pieces there's nothing left to fit together. I'm not about to pull away from her though. I'm in this. If anything's gonna destroy me, I want it to be her.
Beth
I'm drifting off when Daryl's voice pulls me back from the edge. My lashes flutter up, and I blink a few times, willing them to stay open so I can focus. "Hm?"
"Asked if you were ever gonna tell me how you got these scars," he says, tracing his finger over the sliver of raised skin on my forehead. He kisses the one beneath my eye.
"Oh." Stifling a sigh, because I don't want to talk about it, I trace a circle around the patch of hair on his chest. "You can't expect me to tell you about mine if you won't even let me touch yours without turning into a fire breathing dragon."
His chest vibrates beneath my cheek when he laughs softly. "You tell me about yours, and you can touch mine all you want."
"I got them at Grady Memorial," I finally say.
"How?"
"I tripped." I let out a laugh, like this is light-hearted, but it sounds forced even to me. "A few times."
"C'mon," he coaxes, his voice somehow soft and rough at the same time. Like someone put butter and gravel in a blender and out came his voice. "What really happened?"
I stare into space, remembering things I spent so long trying to forget. I don't think I could share these stories with anyone else so easily, but with Daryl it's different. He cares enough to ask, but he never pushes me. I know if I told him to leave it alone, he'd let it drop, no questions asked.
When I'm sure I can speak without my voice shaking, I answer him. "There was this cop there, Dawn. She was a real piece of work. The minute anyone or anything threatened her authority, she'd lash out, and I was an easy target. So she'd beat up on me. Talk down to me. She spent a lot of time making me feel worthless, and there were days when it worked." My jaw clenches as I silently will the tears welling up in my eyes to recede back into my tear ducts, even though I know that's not how biology works. Faucets only flow one way. "It's stupid, you know? That I let her get to me. But she did. In a big way. And for awhile, it really messed with me, but eventually, I put an end to it. Guess that's all that matters."
I see him in my peripheral vision, but I can't make out his expression. I'm willing to bet I won't like it, though. Pity is radiating off of him in waves. "How'd you end it?"
I glance up at him with a wry smile. "I stabbed her in the neck with a pair of scissors." When his eyes widen in shock, I rush to add, "Trust me, she deserved it."
His dark brows are drawn tight and his jaw's a solid stretch of muscle as he stares down at me with a look so intense, the air in my lungs dissipates. "Fuck. That's awful, Beth. I hate that shit like that happened to you. I fucking hate it, because I could've stopped—"
"Don't." I hold up a hand to stop him. "You couldn't have saved me even if you'd wanted to, and that's okay, because I'm stronger now. It made me better."
After that, he's quiet for awhile, lost in thought as his fingertips trail up and down my arm. I gather up all the courage I have and ask the question I know could very well turn him to stone. "I told you how I got mine. You gonna tell me about yours?"
He stills, and the hard set of his shoulders jostles me a bit as his muscles tense up. "Used to have someone that beat on me too." The words come out sounding like they've been trapped under his ribcage for too long, and it makes my chest ache.
I lean up on my elbow and stare down at him. I can tell he doesn't plan on saying anything else, and that's okay, because I feel like he just showed me a part of himself that not many people know exists. It connects us in some weird, twisted way. The fact that we've both suffered through some kind of abuse. We've both had someone break us down.
"You ain't broken, Greene," he says softly, almost like he's reading my mind. "Just a little bent. Ain't nothin' we can't fix."
Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, I press a kiss to his jaw and tuck my head under his chin. Maybe he's right. Here, with him, I don't feel broken. I feel like someone who's picking up the pieces and putting them back together. And that's a beautiful thing.
Hey guys! So I edited this whole thing then pressed save, but I guess I'd been logged out in the process, because it took me back to the log in screen and I lost aaall my edits. The second time I went through I was lazy, so there are probably some mistakes here. But I wanted to get this up before I call it an early night. I've got an appointment with my local orthopedic in the morning to touch base since I was out of town when I broke my leg. He's been my go-to guy since I broke my first bone at the tender age of four. I'm sure it'll be great fun explaining to him why my cast already smells like beer and tequila. He also happens to be my grandpa's partner in crime (like they go out to breakfast and the YMCA and hit on ladies together LMAO) so I'm sure my boozing ways will get back to my grandpa and then my mother and before I even know what's happening she'll have me signed up for AA meetings. And none of them will care that I've been living happily in the land of pain killers and far, far away from the bottle. You can't tell that sort of thing to a mother, because denying something means you have a major, huge problem even if it's the truth. Lol jesus. Wish me luck! As always thank you for the reviews! Man there are a handful of you that comment almost every single chapter and I just look forward to seeing what you have to say and it always makes me smile and I just love you guys! You seriously keep me going. You have no idea.
