CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
We managed to pack our small camp into the trunk and back seat of Michonne's car. As we pulled out and I opened the gate for them, I looked back at the cabin for one last time. I looked at the thing and thought: they may last through this entire apocalypse, or they'll foolishly get themselves killed. Even though I had a terrible experience with this place, I couldn't help but silently thank it. It was Daryl's shelter when his family sent him away, they took all the three of us in and I fell in love with Belle. Now, I was turning back and would never see it again. Something from the window caught my eye and I could barely see Jack standing in the window frame. I quickly turned, not wanting look at his beaten face as he prayed for his family to return home.
I jumped on the back of Daryl's motorcycle, wrapping my arms around his waist as he took off, trying his best to scare me. I smiled to his back, knowing he'd do anything to make me press harder against him. Maybe I would just for the hell of it.
As we went down the drive way, I felt a new sensation. It was like a thousands pounds were being lifted off my chest and I could finally breathe. I was leaving that place. I was leaving Jack and fear behind. I never wanted to see that place again. I never wanted to talk about it after this. Never wanted to thing about it.
I leaned down so my forehead was pressed against one of Daryl's shoulders. I was so happy, probably more happy than when we'd actually found the new place. I'm excited for the future and all the possibilities that that place could hold. We could take in people like we did at the prison, we could start all over again. A new life that was run by us, not Rick, not Jack. But the three of us. Our little family.
I kissed Daryl's shoulder as my hands played with the end of his shirt, my hands slipping up and running over his stomach and sides. Lord how I missed these bike rides. I missed everything about him. Another thing to be happy about. We were really us again. We were the normal teasing, silly, awkward Daryl and Kyra. (Not awkward for us. Awkward for everyone around us.) There was a lot of beauty to that.
His hand came down to my knee and I suppressed a grin when I didn't flinch or jerk. He patted the knee and then his hand slowly went back to his handle bars.
We were all happy. Even if this new place didn't have a water supply, we'd find a nearby one and haul jugs. We could get a truck or jeep or something. Somehow I would make things work out because I wanted this ride from the cabin to the 'house' to be the last one ever.
It probably wasn't the best idea to ride this thing with my stitches, but I could care less. Michonne was taking them out tomorrow anyway, so I didn't see why a day would really matter any way.
I extended my arms, hands still firmly clinging to Daryl, and leaned back. I felt like everything was really over. Now to just make this new place a home.
/
So, this chapter is like super short. Like make three hundred words short. I'm so so sorry. But! I need my reviewers to take a sort of vote. (If you're not a reviewer and just read, you can too!) if I get five people to ask for a sequel, I'll make one! (But, as I said before, this story isn't over.)
100 followers! I love you guys3