Chapter 68: Tainted Love

Sorry for not updating as often as I would like. I was sick, too busy and then my laptop died.

Naturally, I didn't want to use my computer or the network at work. But I'm writing again now and hope that you are still following this story (if you are) and haven't given up. Or you could even let me know what you would like to happen but I can't guarantee that.

Surely, things have got to get better for Daryl now Merle knows?

Not necessarily.

Please leave a review if you can, even if you didn't like this chapter. All feedback will help me improve my writing. Thanks x x x

Daryl

After all of this, Merle naturally needed something stronger than booze to calm himself back down again after he came out of the shower despite his moans in there. By the way, sounds of pure, unadulterated enjoyment which he hadn't bothered to tone down for my benefit unlike I had mine, feeling ashamed of my own feelings for him. Part of me wondered if he hadn't made sure he did this to entice me, hint at the things he could do to me if I let him, to make me utter sounds like that. I preferred to think that he had done it to empty himself, make sure that he wouldn't be tempted to do anything to me that I didn't want like Dad had ordered him to. See, part of me didn't quite trust him, not now he was taking more drugs from his own stash but I daren't go outside where Dad was no doubt lurking to pounce on me as soon as I left the room.

I was caught between a hard place and a rock. To put it mildly.

I took my chances with my brother who had at least always done his best to protect

me from our father and never (really) hurt me even when Dad had made us touch one another. Besides, if he really loved me, he couldn't do thatto me,could he? He hated that shit – he killed or beat to an inch of their life the men he thought had hurt me. He beat the shit out of one of his girlfriend's violent boyfriend (a rich asshole who was also married) when he got too handy with his fists with her and landed the asshole a free trip to the ER. To the intensive care unit, to be precise.

Merle had a bad habit of doing that to certain men. Or maybe you wouldn't even call them that.

But he had never done it to him. Only yelled and thrown a couple of things. Not like I expected him to when he came upon us together like in my daydreams but just let himself be overpowered (too easily) it seemed to me. Maybe I was being too hard on him, he was our father if in name only now and he'd done sick things to him too. I could remember them. Sometimes, he'd even taken the blame and my punishment for me when I was too small to take it – a cutting or a burning or a whipping with the belt. He had scars too but not as many bad ones that really stood out like me.

My big brother loved me.

Then why was I sitting on the floor in my pyjamas as far as I could away from him and hugging my blanket to me to cover up?

Like I thought he was gonna…gonna….

Even the idea of following this thought to its full conclusion made me feel sick. On the other hand,

why was I feeling so uneasy (not scared exactly, not yet) but excited with butterflies fluttering in my stomach? Why was my skin so burning hot and longing for his skillful lover's touch – my own brother's!

I felt a deep blush rise up from my throat and scorch my cheeks. He noticed (of course, he did!) despite me looking down at my lap and curled up further into a ball to make myself look even smaller. He was arrogantly smirking at me as if he could read my mind before he shrugged and turned away like he didn't care.

But I always knew when he was faking. Worse – his cockiness just turned me on all the more!

I shifted under my blanket to hide my arousal and I even thought he knew about it, could read my mind!

But what nagged at me about the whole thing was how suggestible he was (I tried telling myself it was the drugs and booze) and easily overpowered mentally by Dad he had been. Why hadn't he tried to fight him harder? Refuse to do it? Or did he agree because it was true what the old bastard said – he'd always wanted me in the same way he always had?

But not in the same way, I hoped desperately to myself, recalling the almost lustful look he'd shot at me before he went into the bathroom after me.

If he had, for how long? And when had I developed these feelings for him? I couldn't say when exactly, not even roughly.

He offered me the pills and as tempted as I was to calm myself down, I refused so

I would be on alert for any moves he made on me he now that our feelings for each other were out of the bag. Dad had forced us to face them and I hated him for that but wasn't I also excited, wondering where we would go now that we had finally touched each other in a way no brothers should?

I knew instinctively that there was no going back now, no pretending nothing had happened. Just like the old man had planned.

Too much had already passed.

And I couldn't deny that he was expert when he touched me even though I knew without doubt he'd never been near another guy. How gentle he was (most of the time) and how he tried to make me enjoy it too. Did his best to reassure me. I guess he did really know me inside and out.

Seemed to care how I felt, reminding me of my teacher but Rogers was the very last person on earth I wanted to think about. Even to wonder how badly brain-damaged he was after Merle took stage revenge on him all because of me. But I had liked the things we did together! He'd never hurt me, never forced me or even pressured me into doing anything I didn't want even though he took me in and was feeding me. Which was more than I could say for the evil old bastard who'd given us life.

About the only thing he gave us.

I'd tried to tell my brother that but he couldn't understand. Or he refused to and he'd fallen for Dad's lies that he'd rescued me from Carl's home.

It was all my fault! I should never have run away, never let my high-school math teacher touch me but things just got so bad with Dad that fearing for my life, I couldn't take anymore.

Did Carl blame me, that was if he was even capable of thought right now? No, it was Dad. He lied about him – told my brother my teacher raped me and he had't. He hadn't!

The sick bastard had wanted him dead – he'd told me over and over he owned me now because my first time had been with him.

My first time with my own psycho father! I shuddered at the memory and suppressed a whimper when I remembered the first rape. The pain, the terror and all the blood. The humiliation. Luckily, Merle didn't notice.

As deeply mortified and full of shame as I was at what we'd done, especially to gratify our sicko Dad, I longed for my brother to try and do something. Anything.

At least he kept his towel on but now he was shrugging it off with his back to me and giving me full view of his backside.

I shuddered and turned away because I had been admiring my own brother's lithe and toned body! Although of course, his defined six-pack was much more alluring. He worked out in his room – had all the weights when he wasn't 'working out' with some girl or girls in his bed.

That thought made me smile when it should have made me crazy jealous!

I was disgusting for thinking of my brother like that! And with that thought, I decided I would never let him touch me like that ever again! Only if we were forced to but hopefully that would never happen. He had to take me out of here now that he knew, surely? With what money and scarce chattels we had.

We had to get out of here now, right? Couldn't let him keep on…..

So, while he took several pills, I looked at him with a curious combination of tingling apprehension and longing in the pit of my stomach.

After he put on his own pyjamas, (he must have got his from his room when he came out of the shower, not that I had noticed), he frowned at me in big brotherly concern.

'What the hell ya doin' sittin' on the floor like that? I know we did some crazy shit to one another but he made us. Don't mean nothin'. Forget it ever happened.'

I read his eyes and to my instant relief that despite taking more drugs, he seemed back to his old big brotherly self. Didn't seem interested in me that way anymore at least.

Maybe we could really forget it and move on like nothing had happened. Like we hadn't got each other off in front of our father. Right. And pigs might fly.

'Want some beer if ya don't want anythin' stronger to make ya relax?' He winked at me and patted the empty side of my bed. It was going to be a tight squeeze and the thought made my stomach churn slightly.

He noticed my hesitation and gifted me with a particularly innocent and sunny smile. Yet, I couldn't help thinking of that plant whatever the fuck it's called that gapes open also with a huge, welcoming smile and attracts insects to its nectar and then snaps shut to devour them.

Merle wasn't going to hurt me, was he?

Hating myself for my suspicion and distrust of the person I was closest to and loved most in the whole world, maybe the only person who really ever gave a shit about me, I shoved my fear down and joined him on my narrow bed. He didn't try to touch me and after he passed me the first spliff and I drained it deep, I found all the tension in my body melt away. I even stopped worrying what he would make us do tomorrow and why Merle wasn't telling me to pack my bag so we could leave that very night.

He looked at me in approval but I noticed how apart we were sitting from each other. Right on our respective edges on the narrow bed.

I even started to wonder why he didn't sling a casual arm around me like he usually did these days when we were alone together or stroke my arm or do similar shit.

Now the fear was gone, I was wanting a bit of the old closeness and intimacy. Most of all, I wanted him to reassure me and make me feel safe from Dad.

We talked about this and that, reminiscing on old, happier times and smoked and drank lazily. He seemed to have brought an endless supply with him.

At least the old bastard was leaving us alone. We couldn't hear anything from him and we both sensed he wasn't in the house for once. We hadn't heard him leave but that didn't mean anything in our current states. Maybe he had gone to Marty's and kept his promise to Merle to give use some privacy, to get even closer, so he thought. I knew he was trying to get Merle to hurt me like he did. Anyway, we just breathed easy, knowing he wasn't there and that I could go to the bathroom (believe me I needed to piss after all that beer we drunk) without worrying about him pouncing on me.

I got too stupid and complacent, what with the weed and booze. Should have known he would want to get me on my own as soon as he got the chance and see what Merle had done to me. Guess he couldn't wait to know. And after all, he must have been horny out of his pants by then after being denied my 'hot little ass' for so long.

Later on, we both sat in the bed with our backs against the wall. Smoking lazily, not saying much. But we were together, away from the new kind of crazy who was our father these days.

Merle finished his like 12th? bottle and I'd drank most of mine (number 8?) when we slid down gradually onto the bed and passed out.

I woke up to the curious sensation of feeling my brother's panting breath on the back of my neck, his fingers curling gently in my hair. Luckily or maybe not so luckily, we'd left the lamp on all night. I stupidly got to thinking in my half-wake state that Dad would murder us if he found out even if it was Merle who paid the bills when he could. Asshole always acted like he did and it was his fuckin' money we were wasting.

I turned around, not quite with it, eyes heavy with the drugged and boozy sleep I'd just had. Worse, I could feel the beginnings of a hangover starting to throb behind my eyes. 'Wha...'

He seized advantage when I opened my mouth to speak to slip his tongue into my mine!

I was immediately fully awake and on red alert now as I immediately shoved him away in shock.

He just fuckin' kissed me.

Then I saw what he was doing – his movements behind me had woken me up. He was manically touching himself – his hand down the crotch of his pyjamas. When he realised that I saw – he stopped with great effort.

He wasn't even embarrassed. Smirked at me even, looking very pleased with himself as his eyes licked their way over my body. Just like his did!

Making me tremble and feel dirty and scared. When I'd always taken being with him for the only really safe place I had whenever he was with me!

'Merle, what the fuck?' I punched him hard on the shoulder. Feeling objectified and betrayed. By my own usually protective big brother!

'Take it easy, little brother. Ain't doin' no hurtin'. I just can't get what we did out of my fuckin' head. I'm doin'my fuckin' best tryin' to but you were sleepin' right next to me! And what he made us to each other felt so damn good. I know ya liked it too so don't pretend you hated every second of it! Us gettin' so close even with that fuckin' perverted piece of shit watchin' and tellin' us to do everythin' we did. Didn't do it for 'im, though, did we?'

Before I got a chance to get up and escape from him – Dad or no Dad lurkin' outside the door even if he was drunk out of his skull (hopefully), Merle wrapped his arms around me and stopped me. It wasn't threatening exactly, but it wasn't nice either. I felt a little panicky and trapped when he had never made me feel like that before. Always the very opposite, in fact. Before I could start to struggle, he hushed me and pulled me closer to him as he whispered, slurring like crazy; 'Pills, man, and weed. 'Sides - you're so fuckin' beautiful...', he mumbled into my ear.

'Never seen ya this fucked up before. What the fuck, Merle?' I repeated, now desperately trying to make him let him go of me. I looked into his eyes, exhausted from trying to make him let go of his vice-like grip on me. Of course, his tell-a-tale pupils were coal-black and huge. I sighed, I knew he'd taken a lot of shit before, even before he came home and caught us and and it was no surprise. Even though we'd been chatting and he'd been relatively coherent before we fell asleep. Or he woke up without me knowing and took more. Yeah, that was probably it. Too high to go back to sleep, so went and got more stuff from his not so secret stash in his room – I'd seen coke, meth, various pills that I didn't recognise last time I'd looked there. I knew he liked to swallow them down with vodka or whiskey plus a chaser. Huge amounts and dangerous combinations that would make even the most experienced party-animal lose consciousness.

But not Merle. He had built up a considerable tolerance, apparently.

He chuckled. Sounding horribly like Dad, while he ate me up with his eyes. I involuntarily winced. 'Ya still so sweet and innocent despite everythin' he's done to ya.'

Adrenaline pumped through my veins then, I was finally able to get his arms off me with a huge heave and leave the bed.

I didn't need to listen to this crazy shit. Besides, he was freaking me out more than I cared to admit, so much so that I would rather brave the chance of bumping into Dad rather than sit there and listen to my big brother, fucked high on drugs and being creepy as hell.

'Gonna go out there with him waitin' for ya? I heard him pacing outside the door just now.'

I licked my dry lips and ignored my parched throat and banging headache, getting worse by the minute. At least my bladder seemed to be holding.

I shivered.

To distract him or to maybe bring him back down to planet earth, I asked while looking round the room, 'Got anythin' to drink in here?' At his raised eyebrow, I said: 'I mean anythin' that ain't alcohol'?

He laughed mockingly. 'Can't take the heat, hey, baby bro? Then, better get out of the kitchen.' Then he licked his lips at me!

I looked at him in bewilderment. Was he talking about booze or something else? Maybe both?

'I'm gettin' a fuckin' hangover, moron! Don't want to feel like shit tomorrow. Not with him.' I shuddered.

He frowned then. 'Aah, poor baby little Princess Darlena. Does ya head hurt? Let Uncle Merle kiss it all better.' He opened up his arms and crooned to me patronisingly.

Enraged, I threw the baggies full of various coloured pills at him. 'Fuck you, Merle! Told ya to stop callin' me that! And get this shit out of my room!'

He chuckled and said more seriously this time, 'Then come to ya big brother who loves ya. Merle ain't gonna hurt ya – not like he does.'

'Get lost, Merle, you fuckin' junkie freak.' I took a step back towards the door. He was right, I fancied I could hear our father stumbling drunkenly about downstairs, sounding like he was searching for something – my ass and my mouth, probably but not pacing, like my brother said.

Or had Merle put the idea in my mind to manipulate me into getting back into bed with him – literally, just so he could…could…

I trembled, on the verge of letting out a whimper of panic and frustration but didn't in the end.

I stared down at my hands as I weighed up my options. They were shaking uncontrollably. Should I leave the room when Dad would probably pounce on me straight away or go back to my crazy, horny brother? My dehydrated body was demanding water but I stubbornly ignored it. Maybe later, I could risk going to drink some from the bathroom without going downstairs to the kitchen but that water wasn't good fo you either and could make you sick if you drank too much. And it tasted like shit and a little metallic – alright for cleaning your teeth with but nothing else. We didn't live in a high-tech city with good sewage and drainage systems after all but in the back of beyond and nowhere. Like everyone else in our shit town (wouldn't even call it a town), we had a septic tank in our backyard.

I sighed in resignation, pissed off at my lack of choices. 'OK. But don't fuckin' touch me again, ya hear?' I snarled at him, angrily to hide my fear.

He shrugged. 'Whatever. Trust me, will ya? Or are ya really such a pussy little princess?' He followed this shot by aiming a sneaky, little smile at me.

'Ya high as shit. I know what he made us do – it's messin' with my head too but why would ya make things worse and take more shit when we need a clear head to fight him and get out of here? How ya gonna stop him if he bursts in here and drags me off? Ya know what he wants. What he always wants from me!' Just at that thought, I couldn't help raising my voice a little as it grew more panicky and full of anger at the same time.

He lips twisted slightly and he glanced down before he arranged his face and smiled at me to reassure me. 'Keep it down, will ya? Don't want him to hear. Jus' quit ya yappin', Darlena and get over here. I won't let him hurt you – I can sober up quickly if I need to. Don't worry, I'll protect you.' He patted the tight space beside him on the bed while he grinned at me.

I clenched my fists at my sides and glared at him. 'Don't need no protectin', can deal with that evil piece of shit all by myself.'

He laughed and I had to admit what I said wasn't true. Hadn't Dad proved to me time and time again how powerless against him I was? Couldn't stop him from doing what he liked to me. Even Merle was. But saying it made me feel a bit better anyway.

'Don' worry, not gonna touch ya again. Cross ma heart.'

I rolled my eyes. Kind of filtered out his words, from experience. Merle rarely meant what he said when he was high. He was beyond that now.

At the same time I was mad at him, I couldn't really blame him for getting off his head. He'd seen some crazy shit tonight too. Found out what Dad was doing to me, been overpowered and threatened with a knife at this throat. And then the rest. I could still see his panicked expression in my mind's eye when Dad threatened to slit our throats if we didn't do exactly what he said.

He'd tried to fight Dad but our father had proved he was still stronger than him, despite his age. Bastard was in his prime and wily with his years despite his shitty lifestyle and even Merle was still just a boy in comparison to him.

I reluctantly got back onto the bed with my brother and immediately turned my back to him to curl up in a ball on the other side, to keep the distance between us.

I tensed up waiting for him to start touching me or forcing me, like Dad did, despite his reassurances.

If he did, I was gonna kill him. I growled deep in my throat with determination.

But he did touch me, not like that though. Only to turn me around so he could put his arms round me – platonically. Big brotherly. Like normal Merle.

I couldn't help flinching at first, I was so on edge. 'Shh...Shh', he hushed me. 'Merle ain't gonna hurt ya', he crooned soothingly in my ear and kissed my cheek.

But difference was, now I believed that wasn't the only reason he'd shown me such affection before leading up to this. Looking back, I thought it had started after he found me crying after being tied to the bed (both wrists and ankles) after dad had been going at me all night. When he was done with me, he cleaned me up and wiped the blood away and redressed me. Then trussed me up again like a prized piece of meat (which to him, I guess that's all I was) no matter how hard I had fought him. Well, he'd put my pants back on anyway so that Merle wouldn't know what he'd done.

He knew I wouldn't tell my big brother. Believe me, I tried – but I simply was unable to. Merle sensed something was wrong – really wrong with me and ever since then he'd got a hell of a lot more affectionate. No, he'd taken every opportunity to touch me yet he hadn't done anything wrong, exactly except kiss me just now and even that could be put down to him being totally wasted.

Now, I was simply too drunk and high on the weed, as well as too beaten down to fight. Even him kissing me there like a queer didn't seem to matter. After we'd done a hell of a lot worse than just kissing.

Too damn exhausted from always waiting for Dad to grab me and begin groping me before he forced himself on me (usually both ways) and despite everything, Merle holding me felt nice like before and I turned to face him to snuggle closer against his chest. How fucked up was that? I couldn't bring myself to care whether this made us sinners and hastened our inevitable journey to hell or innocent while listening to my brother's voice. It always had a soothing effect on me. Besides now he wasn't spewing crazy stuff about how hot he thought I was but telling me that everything was going to be OK, he wasn't going to let nothing bad happen to me and to go back to sleep.

I was dumb enough to actually believe him as I ignored my increasingly demanding thirst. Better than having a full bladder. No way was I going to go outside even if I couldn't hear him moving around anymore.

Could be a trick. More than likely.

Well Merle knows now, I thought, satisfied with myself and promised to get him to agree to us leaving as soon as he was sober in the morning. Dad was never going to get to force himself on me ever again.

I was dumb enough to actually believe that too.

My troubles were far from over, even if Merle knew.