Warning: Explicit cursing

Sweet Georgia Belle Peaches and Cream
Chapter 2
[Alleyway Bar]

Daryl chewed on the tip of his thumb, angrily waiting for his brother to pick up the phone. It was the fourth time calling his damn brother, and still the damn boy wouldn't answer. He had every mind to drive up to his place and barging into his room and haul his sorry ass from between a whore's legs. He knew that's what he was doing now—no doubt about it. After all, it was what got him into his current predicament.

"It'll be fun he said, it's gonna make that stick from up your ass disappear he said. Fucking motherfucker. Gonna skin you alive when I get my hands on you," Daryl hissed as he mocked his brother with contempt.

He was about to hang up until the receiver of the other line picked up.

"Lil' bro! You done already? Man, here's me thinking you gonna rut all night!" the voice laughed merrily from the other line.

"Fuck, Merle! What the fuck were you thinking in hiring me a fucking prostitute?! You know that shit's illegal?!" Daryl flew into a rage, throwing his hands into the air before slamming his fists against the steering wheel. The air within his car grew dozens of degrees hotter, or at least that's what it felt like.

"What the fuck are you talking about, baby brother? You didn't like her?"

"FUCK, I fucking thought she was an escort like you said. I went to the fucking desk after… after that to pay for the fucking room and arrange for the car to go the fucking event with her. Then I find her being fucking raped by her own boyfriend. What the fuck Merle?! The bastard said everything I needed to know about her. She's a fucking prostitute! How the hell you gonna do me like that, brother?!"

"Whoa, whoa now Darylena. The management I spoke to said she was an escort… I's got fooled into this too. I'm gonna find his ass set things right. You feel better now?"

"No. 'Cus the shit's been done and gone after I tossed him some money to get gone and leave the girl alone. FUCK, MERLE!" Daryl ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "She don't even look like she's fucking legal now that I'm thinking about it. Just about how much shit are you going to get me into before you straighten the fuck up? I'm a fucking cradlerobber if she ain't old enough! We're in this business together, but fuck Merle. I'm doing all the fucking work and you're fucking messing 'round all the time!"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, baby bro," his voice sounded constrained albeit apologetic as well. "I made sure I saw her I.D. She's definitely legal for sure brother. I know I fucking screwed up, 'kay? But I ain't never screwed up so fucking bad that it'll put you in harm's way. No one knows about this but you, me and the girl and that faggot I spoke to. That's it. No one says a word and you're good to go, baby bro."

Daryl sighed through clenched teeth. He was tired of fixing his brother's mistakes. Actually, this mistake was his own… he should've known better. The way she just laid there, devoid of emotion. He never met an escort like that. Damn, he felt like shit.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?" He responded in a weary tone, suddenly all energy and life from him drained away. He was thoroughly exhausted. He spent the past four hours looking for the girl after she disappeared from the hotel room. He wasn't about to report the assault. Fuck, she would've been arrested along with the both of them even if she was the victim. Today's society holds women accountable for deeds they couldn't even control. He pitied her.

"Where is the girl now? Do we gotta keep her mouth shut?"

"Nah," Daryl immediately shut down the idea. He knew Merle worked in rough ways which sometimes were illegal. He didn't want to invite anymore trouble. "Just let it be. If it surfaces in the future, we can play victim too. I gotta go man." He didn't bother to let his brother answer before hanging up, then tossing the phone onto the seat next to his.

Fuck, he thought. Everywhere he spotted a girl with blond hair, he thought of her and her devoid-of-life piercing sky blue eyes. That was all that stood out to him. Other than the nasty chemical drenched hair and face slathered with makeup… he assumed she looked decently pretty, don't get him wrong… but fuck, he wasn't the one to go hire prostitutes. That $500 he set down was money to have her buy a semi decent dress for the birthday event of one of his directors, not to pay her for her 'services.' Shit, he was going to leave his credit card there in case it wasn't enough but he thought it would be a bad decision. To top it all off, when he saw her lying in the bed naked, he thought she wanted him to… ugh. The only damn time he tried something new.

The way she acted should've been a major red flag. But from all the damn stress and shit he had gone through the past couple months, he barely knew what's real and what's not. But damn, no matter how he did it or what he blamed, the truth is that he slept with a prostitute. A sex slave—a young one.

Daryl felt the bile rise up into his throat—he hated this feeling. He wanted to apologize but what could he possibly do now? She disappeared without a word after the returned from speaking with security down at the desk to make sure that faggot was gone. He was going to help her… somehow. The way that faggot treated her—it was no way to treat a woman. But fuck. He was shit of out luck.

He supposed it was just fate that she might be destined to lead this sort of life for the rest of her days, and there's not a damn thing he could do about it. There was nothing he could do now but to move on…

It was a new kind of low.

-0-

She still felt sore beyond belief, but it was a whole lot more tolerable than before. Beth didn't know if by God's grace Jeff didn't show his face around lately or if her last patron actually gave him enough money to burn for nearly a week. Then again, she knew his schedule like the back of her hand—it was how she avoided him and survived his brutality.

"You okay, sugar?" a concerned voice called out to her from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yeah, just putting on some makeup," Beth quickly applied concealer and foundation on her face and did the best she could to hide the multicolored bruises. Most of them were old bruises, but there ones one prominent one fading from a dark bluish hue to yellow. It was the one that Jeff so graciously gave her before he forced himself on her in the hotel. She hated him. Hated life. She couldn't even stand the sight of her reflection in the mirror

"Beth?" the owner of the voice, Karen called out again.

"Coming!" Beth snapped out of her thoughts and quickly rearranged the products back to their places and opened the door. "'Morning Karen," she grinned meekly.

"Oh sugar…" Karen pulled her closer as she examined her bruised face. "That bastard has no claim on you, Beth. Why do you keep putting up with this nonsense?"

"I have nowhere else to go Karen… and if I don't… he'll let everyone in my hometown know what I've been doing…" Beth looked away, unconvinced herself.

"They'll understand! I don't want you to suffer anymore. I have some extra money saved up. Why don't you take it and just go? Out of the country?"

"Where am I going to go, Karen? I can only go so far before they find me again. For some damn reason they want to keep me in their web. And when they find me, they'll just beat me from an inch till death again. I don't want to feel that kind of pain again, Karen. I don't!"

"So the pain you feel when he rapes you is nothing?! Wake up, Beth!"

Their voices escalated higher and higher as the argument grew even more heated. Unbeknownst to them, a door from the hallway opened and soft footsteps pattered to them.

"Mommy… Auntie Bethy… too loud!" a small toddler with jet black hair and beautiful hazel eyes shrieked and started to bawl in his blue spiderman printed jammies.

Beth casted Karen an apologetic smile before rushing over to the toddler, gathering him up in her arms. "There, there Bubba. I'm sorry we woke you up, baby," she cooed into his small ear as she ruffled his messy hair. "How's about we go and get you some pancakes? You like pancakes don't you Bubba?"

The small child's large teary eyes lit up instantaneously, a large grin plastered across his chubby face. "Yeah!" He shouted and ran into his room, presumably going to dress for the event.

"He always calms down when you call him Bubba… and offer him pancakes…" Karen chuckled, albeit amused.

Beth shrugged, "I guess I have a way with kids. I hope to have some… eventually…"

'When I get out of this situation… maybe then…'

-0-

"Look brother… I got the situation settled with the idiot. Though it's true he ain't in good business, but if disclose this to the popos, we'll be in trouble too." Merle was a tall, burley looking man. Scars marred his face, his teeth albeit yellow from decades of tobacco use and tattoos covered his body. Daryl wasn't too far off that himself. One would think the both of them would be in the dirty business—rowdy biker fellows or just redneck mobsters.

However, God had other plans for the two of them. Surprisingly enough, they run a respectable bodyguard and security business. Well, it started off just him, Merle, Rick and Shane—but they had expanded to a multimillion dollar company with clientele in the elite classes of society.

No matter what Merle did, Daryl couldn't stay angry at him. He was blood, and blood is always thicker than water.

Daryl casted Merle a disbelieving glare, "Popos? Haven't heard you say that in forever."

Merle smirked, "Well Darylena, guys like me gotta get in touch with our kids inside here." He pounded his chest and winked.

"Don't you mean to say, your 'inner-child'?" He glanced at his brother, who sputtered and a mock of hurt emotion adorned his face.

"Nah uh, baby bro. I say it how it is. Anyway, the popos- police, won't like us. They been sniffing on our tails since Shane slipped up that contract with them. Best bet, we go to their place and set things straight—the good ol' way. They won't call the police—they got a bounty on their heads too." He slammed a fist against his palm in front of his chest, a look of pure anticipation and glee played across his face.

Daryl wanted to put off that idea immediately—but it wasn't an awful idea. It was a bad one, one he'll probably regret, but damn. He won't be the one to give up the opportunity to serve an asshole his plate of much deserved asskicking. "Fine. Don't do anything till I say so."

Merle grinned from ear to ear, pleased to hear his little brother's answer. "Will do, baby bro. Will do. He's at this address," he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Daryl.

Let the games begin.

...

It didn't take long for the brothers to pull in front of a bar in the shadier side of town. There's the bad side, and there's the really, really shady side. It was only three hours after noon, and already there were women in scantily clothes waving at them.

Ugh. He had a feeling he needed to burn his eyes to get rid of the scene before him—not the he could literally burn his eyes… or anything. He wasn't going to ever touch a prostitute again, not if he could help it. The thought of being able to punish the sorry excuse for a man for deceiving Merle and putting him in this predicament fueled him to look past the women and towards his destination.

Daryl stepped out of his vehicle and straightened out his suit. He stretched the muscles on the side of his neck by moving his head to the right, then left. With a huff, he loosened his shoulders and headed towards the entrance of the bar, with Merle in tow.

His hand barely gripped the paint chipped fake brass color door when a sudden sound flooded to his ears. A series of low thuds followed by a very high pitched screech. It sounded like—like flesh being pulverized. "Fuck is that?" Daryl whispered, not knowing if he hallucinated the sounds or if it were real.

"Nah, I heard it baby bro," Merle broke his stance behind him and cautiously headed toward the alleyway adjacent to the rundown bar.

Daryl released the handle and quickly followed his brother. Another screech, some voices and fabric tearing echoed down the alleyway—freezing both brothers in their steps. They paused, a grim and furious look spread across their face as they tossed a knowing look to each other.

Someone was getting assaulted. By the sounds of it, it didn't seem to be one victim.

"No, don't hurt them please! It's not their fault, please… Please!"

They strained their ears to catch the hopeless plea of a feminine voice. A crash of what sounded like a wooden chair shattering into segments pierced through the tension.

Not a second had passed before Daryl jolted into the alleyway, hellbent on going to make someone pay for hurting a woman. Merle was right behind him, both chasing the sounds of begging, and wood shattering.

The brothers broke into the small clearing, an area filled with black garbage bags, pallets and trash, just in time to see a man flinging a ratty looking chair at a hunched figure in the corner. There were two other men, one trapping a hysteric woman in his arms while his accomplice tore at her clothes.

The figure at the corner faltered on her knees, falling over onto the dirty ground with a cry. Seconds after the woman fell, a cry of a toddler echoed from the corner.

Two women, one child.

They were attacking the defenseless.

Daryl didn't know what provoked him more, the frightened cries of the toddler or the sneering laughter of the men. He saw red. He saw their ugly souls. He wanted their blood. Without much of a warning, Daryl leaped into action. Grabbing a fallen, leg segment of a chair he swung at the man who held another chair in the air, poised to hurl it at the defenseless woman and child.

He slammed the wooden leg against the assaulter's back, causing him to drop the chair and fall over. Daryl didn't stop there. He leaped forward, pinning the man by his throat against the floor with his grip as he landed blows to his face, relentlessly. Somewhere in his mind, he registered this face as familiar—he seen him before. It didn't matter.

In a matter of seconds, the small clearing turned into a chaotic mess with screeching, blood, yells and grunts of pain. Daryl's fists burned, but he didn't care. With a final punch to the man's nose, he went limp. In the background, he heard Merle fending off the two bigger males. He had one of them pinned, and the other rushed at him with what seemed like a crowbar.

Not a fucking chance, Daryl thought. He grabbed a nearby empty large garbage can and tossed it at the man behind Merle just before he was able to land a blow. Knocked off his feet, the man tried to get up but Merle didn't give him a chance. In those few seconds Daryl had given him, he had knocked out the bigger man and now, with a strong fist, he landed a final blow at the man on the ground.

Daryl and Merle panted, casting a few glances around to find all three men were knocked unconscious. "What the fuck was that?" he hissed at his older brother, who in returned shrugged. "Better make sure they ain't' dead."

"Mommy! Mommy!" the child wailed. In those few minutes, the woman who was pinned at the wall was soothing her toddler as she tried to help the smaller female onto her feet.

"Hush now baby. It's going to be okay," she then turned her attention to her friend. "Beth, Bethany!" She shook her small frame, hoping to illicit a response. But none came, she tried again, and this time a groan of pain echoed in the clearing.

"Oh God… Karen. Are you okay?" Her voice sounded weak and strained. "Bubba… Bubba?" She called out, reaching for the small toddler, who bawled in her arms as she embraced him on the floor.

Daryl gave the familiar looking man a final kick in the ribs before letting go. It annoyed him to no end that he couldn't remember where he saw these idiots. He casted a quick glance behind him, to make sure the women and child were conscious. He had to do a double take when he saw the mess of dirt covered blond hair. Despite his heart beating rapidly from the adrenaline in his veins, he felt his heart beat faster as recognition dawned onto him.

It was her. The girl from the hotel.

He held his breath as she lifted her head to meet his face, her pain filled eyes glistened with recognition as soon as her eyes met his. As if her whisper were cool breeze that passed through the small concrete covered clearing, it caressed his neck—causing him to shiver in response.

"Di… Dixon."

/

JR- Sorry it took so long folks, had a lot of catching up to do!

Thanks for the reviews everyone! It's a new, dark concept but there will be a happy ending.. maybe? I'm not sure if I want to take this as a long story or a medium length one… I'll decide later.

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Thanks for reading guys, please review!