Between the Thorns
Chapter 12
Daryl leaned back and closed his eyes, a low groan of pleasure escaping from between his lips. One part of his mind was struggling to figure out how exactly he had gotten himself in this precarious situation. While the other was focused on what Jean's slim body had felt like curled into his.
When he woke that morning it had been to her, still nestled safe in his arms. Her long hair was mussed from sleep and at some time during the night her hand had slunk up underneath his shirt. The flat of her open palm had been resting against the bare skin of his chest, just above the small faded tattoo he had there.
The day had started out as normally as days at the end of the world could. A knock on the door signaled that someone had brought breakfast for them. And not just any breakfast. There was bacon. And sausage. Jean made a few halfhearted jokes about the bacon being some sort of hush money. Daryl knew Negan wanted her to keep quiet and not make a fuss about what happened to her daughter. He had been quite blunt about it the day before. Jean seemed comfortable with the big man's request, saying that she would rather keep the incident private anyway. Daryl wasn't sure how he felt about it. He didn't like secrets. Or bribes. But bribe or no bribe, Daryl had to admit that the fried slices of pork were the best thing he had put in his mouth since the beginning of the turn.
The swelling in Rose's face had gone down during the night, leaving behind a map of colorful bruises. Her lip was split and she had one hell of a black eye. The white of that same eye was red with broken capillaries, making her icy blue pupil appear an even deeper blue than usual. But looking terrible did nothing to diminish the girl's appetite. Rose was happy to inform them, much to the horror of her mother, that since she was the one that got almost raped she deserved the two extra pieces of bacon that were left after all the meat was divided up fairly between the four of them. No one seemed equipt to argue with her declaration. So Rose snatched up the two slices of crispy pork and shoveled them into her mouth while she and her sister cackled like two tiny evil hyenas.
During the meal Jean touched Daryl's shoulder twice and placed her hand on his knee once. Not that he was counting. He was enjoying her company even more, now that the uncomfortable tension between them was gone. It had been replaced by a different sort of tension. The sort that felt more like static electricity. Daryl kept waiting for Jean's daughters to say something about him sleeping in bed with their mother. The girls had woken up before them and had come into the bedroom to wake their mother up. So he knew they had seen him in their mother's bed. But if they had questions, neither of the girls asked any while he was around.
Daryl did catch Jean's younger dark haired daughter staring at him a few times during breakfast. Whenever his eyes met hers she would quickly avert her stare, a sweet little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He could only guess that this meant the girl approved of his new position in the family.
Negan had been gracious enough to offer Jean and her girls three days off to 'recover from the incident'. But apparently that offer did not extend to Daryl. Because shortly after breakfast, the blonde woman he met during his tour of the garage came to collect him for work. Both Jean's girls hopped up from the table to hug him goodbye while the blonde woman lurked in the doorway with an amused look on her face.
Daryl was usually good with names. He was detail oriented, a personality trait that he always felt was responsible for making him a skilled tracker. But the name of the blonde woman that he was going to be working with had escaped him. He was grateful when she reintroduced herself without making it awkward for him.
Laura was her name. She was tall for a girl. Almost as tall as Daryl. She had a tattoo on the side of her neck, a silver ring through her nose, and she walked with large manly strides. She reminded Daryl a little bit of Michonne, not in personality or looks but more in the general way she carried herself. The small reminder of home put Daryl more at ease than he would normally be around a person he didn't know well yet.
Daryl had never worked with a female mechanic before. But he could tell right away that Laura was good at what she did. She talked too much. But other than that she was pleasant enough to work with. Daryl quickly figured out that she was able to keep up a steady stream of conversation without much input from him. After that he just tuned her chatter out and concentrated on the jobs he had been given.
Mike was the young black man that ran the garage. Daryl knew his name, having committed it to memory since the man was introduced to him as his new boss. He hovered around Daryl for the first hour or two. Daryl assumed the man was checking to make sure he knew what he was doing. Which he did. After a while Mike got either saw whatever he had been watching for or got bored with babysitting Daryl. He headed to another part of the shop and started working on a project of his own. Daryl didn't ask any questions, but from what he could see it looked like the man was customizing several trucks to make it so the people inside them would be better protected from the walkers. It was a project that interested him. Many times Daryl had thought about doing something similar with his bike or maybe even Aaron's RV. But he had never had the time or the parts.
The jobs Daryl had been given were routine maintenence checks that almost anyone with any knowledge of engines could have done. He changed the oil in a large truck. Switched out a leaky tire on another truck. He was in the middle of cleaning up a small oil spill when he realized Laura had said his name several times in a row and he hadn't responded.
"Huh?," Daryl asked. She laughed and repeated her question, asking him if he wanted to take a coffee break with her. He nodded and wiped his greasy hands off on a shop rag. Coffee sounded good. He was thirsty and his body was already starting to feel fatigued just from the small amount of physical labor he had done. The time he had spent dehydrated in isolation hadn't done him any favors. And several of his knuckles were cracked and swollen from slamming them into the face of the man that had attacked Jean's daughter the day before.
Laura led him through the shop and around a corner where a small office area was set up. The room didn't have a door on it, but due to it's location in the shop the area was partially secluded.
"Mike's not having coffee with us?," Daryl asked.
"He had to run down to the other warehouse to get a part he needed," Laura said, winking at him. Daryl shrugged and assumed that she was making reference to some sort of joke that he wasn't in on. Maybe Mike was actually visiting a girlfriend instead of looking for parts. Daryl didn't really care either way. Mike's business was his own.
Laura filled up a stained mug with coffee from a small coffee machine on the opposite wall. Daryl took the mug and thanked her even though the coffee smelled burnt. Looking around, he noticed there wasn't much in the way of seating so he perched on the edge of the desk. He took a sip from his mug, glad the coffee didn't taste as bad as it smelled. Even it had tasted like mud he still would have drunk it. Any coffee was good coffee as long as it provided him with the burst of energy he was looking for.
Laura sat down next to him on the desk. She was so close that her thigh was touching his. Daryl felt a little uncomfortable having the woman in his personal space. He didn't know her well enough to consider her anything other than a friendly seeming stranger. But there wasn't really anywhere else to sit. So Daryl didn't say anything about her being so close to him. He didn't realize she was coming on to him until her hand was down his pants.
Several years of absolutely no sexual contact with any woman had combined with having Jean's warm body pressed up against his all night, leaving him extremely sexually frustrated. So while he didn't necessarily do anything to encourage the woman that seemed more than eager to get on her knees in front of him, Daryl didn't exactly make a grand attempt to stop her either. She smelled like gunpowder and motor oil. But her hand was warm and her mouth was wet. When she wrapped her lips around his throbbing erection, Daryl braced his hands flat against the top of the desk and closed his eyes. Some of the coffee from his cup spilled out. The liquid was hot against the skin of his hand.
The part of the whole incident that made Daryl feel the worst later on was that he had actually been thinking about Jean while another woman had his dick in her mouth. He hadn't planned to have a sex fantasy about her. Like the sex act itself, it had just happened. He closed his eyes and images of the woman just came. He thought about the way she smelled. About how soft and silky her long dark hair was. And especially about the small tattoo on the inside of her hip bone and how badly he wanted to see the rest of it.
When Daryl opened his eyes and saw the woman he had been picturing in his mind standing there, at first he thought she was part of what he had been imagining. Then he noticed that Jean's mouth was hanging open. There was a lunch tray in her hands. Her big brown eyes were wide with shock. She seemed as unable to believe what she was seeing as Daryl felt that it was happening in the first place.
"Oh!," Jean said, finally gaining enough control over her body and mouth to let a small syllable squeak out. She took a step back, the tray of food slipping from her hands. As it clattered to the floor Daryl found his release. He grunted, almost as much in pain as in pleasure. The regret of what he had just done washed over him in an immediate wave of guilt.
Seeing that something other than her ministrations had caught Daryl's attention, Laura pulled away. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she turned to see who or what had interrupted them.
"Hi Jean," Laura said. Her tone was so casual. It made Daryl cringe as he hurried to stuff himself back into his pants. Jean stood there staring for another moment before she spoke. By the time she did she had pulled herself together and was attempting to hide the hurt and pain in her voice.
"I'm sorry," Jean said. Her voice trembled just a little. "I didn't mean to interrupt you... I think I better go now." With that she spun on her heel and took off back the way she had come.
"What in the hell is her problem?," Laura asked. "You two fuckin' or something?" Daryl shook his head. He darted around Laura and headed out into the shop. His instinct had been to chase after Jean. But once he got halfway through the shop he scuffed his feet to a stop, realizing that he had no idea what he planned to say to the woman even if he did manage to catch up with her.