The Saints

Chapter 4

Beth groaned and rubbed her head, pulling the blankets over her to shield her sensitive eyes from the light streaming in through the window. She had one of the worst hangovers she'd ever had in her life. Her head was throbbing and she felt like she was going to be sick, her mouth was incredibly dry and she felt like just going back to sleep. It wouldn't be a bad idea. If she went back to sleep she wouldn't have to face Connor and Daryl, especially after she'd made a complete ass out of herself the night before. She couldn't believe she'd hit on Daryl like that, especially after promising herself and Connor that she wasn't going to do that again. She was blaming most of it on the alcohol she'd just about chugged before he'd gotten out there. The rest of the blame went to her traitorous body for being so damn attracted to him.

Rubbing her temples she slowly sat up in bed. When she didn't vomit she took that as a good sign and was hoping a shower would help her feel better. She carefully got up and grabbed her clothes before making her way to the bathroom. She could hear the television going in the living room and assumed the boys were already up. She wasn't planning on facing them at all. She'd take a shower and go back to bed and sleep the hang over off, and hopefully the embarrassment.

Beth stepped into the shower after sheading her clothes. The hot water felt amazing on her skin and did wonders for her hang over. She quickly washed off so she could just lean against the shower wall and let the hot water fall down her skin as she thought about what the hell she was going to do next. Even if Connor and Daryl let her go, she didn't have anything left. Her family was dead; it wasn't like she could go home anymore. On top of that, she had two different mobs that wanted her dead and were willing to pay, a lot of money, to see it happen.

She sighed and turned off the water, wringing her hair out. She was getting ready to step out of the shower and reach for a towel when the curtain was pulled back and she was roughly grabbed and pulled against a hard body. Beth screamed as a gun was pressed against her head and an arm wrapped around her neck. "Shut up, cyka," the rough voice growled, kicking the door open and dragging her out. Beth struggled as he dragged her, naked into the living room. Connor and Daryl were on the couch, being kept there by other men with guns on them.

Connor and Daryl both started to get off the couch when they saw Beth, but were pushed back, guns pressed against their temples. "Don't even think about it boys," an Italian muttered, smirking.

"At least let her put a towel on," Connor growled.

The Italian looked over and Beth felt like she was going to be sick as his eyes swooped up and down her body slowly, taking in every inch. "Why would I cover up a masterpiece like that?" He laughed and snapped his fingers at a few of the men. They forced Daryl and Connor off the couch and into the kitchen. Beth bit her lip, watching them go. She didn't like this. These were obviously the Russians, and the Italians that were looking for her. It appeared that they'd teamed up to take her out, and now, because of her, Connor and Daryl we're in trouble too. A chair was dragged in from the kitchen and she was forced into it, still naked and tied down to it. The Italian who seemed to be running things pulled out his phone.

"We have her and the Saints are under control." Beth glared at him as he hung up and looked at her. "Your Saints won't be able to save you this time."

…

Daryl growled and tested the ropes keeping him tied down to the chair in the kitchen. He and Connor were back to back, Connor facing the living room, Daryl had to go off sound alone to try and figure out what was going on. He'd just promised the night before that he would keep her safe. Well he was doing a real fucking good job of that. The Russians and Italians were on their way, and they were going to kill her unless he and Connor could stop them. The problem was, they couldn't try to stop them with men pointing guns at them and tied to chairs. He didn't know how they were going to get out of this one.

"She's a sexy little thing," they heard one of the Italians say from the living room. Daryl and Connor both froze, looking towards the living room. "Think the bosses would mind if we had a little fun?"

"Don't you fucking touch me," Beth spat. Daryl smirked a bit, even in the situation she was she was still a little hell cat. They were smirking, proud of her, until they heard the distinct sound of a hand connecting with flesh. They both knew what that was. That set a fire inside both of them. No one hit a woman, not ever. When they heard her screaming, sounding muffled, they started struggling against the ropes holding them down, not carrying about being shot.

"Knock it off you two," one of the Russian's said, punching Connor hard.

"Fuck you," Daryl growled, kicking him, getting punched himself. The boys didn't care what happened to them; they had to get to Beth. The Russian kicked Connor hard, the full weight of his leg connecting with the chair. The arm of the chair broke and Connor's hand was free. He grabbed the gun off the Russian and shot him. Both of them were thankful for the silencer. While he shot the other man he grabbed a knife and cut Daryl free. Daryl grabbed the gun off of the dead Italian and looked at Connor. Hearing the commotion others came in, guns drawn. As long as they were away from Beth the boys didn't care.

The firefight started, Connor and Daryl going back to back, arms outstretched as they shot at the Italians and Russians trying to kill them. For being in mobs, they were all terrible shots. It didn't take the boys long to work through it, even though they both did take another bullet. Daryl stepped over the dead men in the kitchen and ran into the living room, gun up. The Italian who seemed to be in charge of everything was standing behind Beth, a knife against her throat.

"I suggest you let her go," Daryl growled.

"Or what? You'll kill me?" he asked. Beth was shaking, tape had been put over her mouth but she locked eyes with Daryl and wouldn't look away. "I think we'll just stand here until my boss shows up to deal with you. It shouldn't be hard to kill you." He smirked a little bit.

Connor and Daryl looked at each other, trying to come up with a plan. They didn't have to. Before they knew what was going on, Beth head butted the Italian, breaking his nose. The knife fell from his hand as he grabbed it, swearing in Italian. Connor grabbed him by the back of the suit and dragged him to the center of the room, putting him on his knees. They stood behind him, their guns to the back of his head. "And shepherds we shall be. For Thee my lord for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand; our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. We shall flow a river forth unto Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti."

Once he dropped dead Connor ran behind Beth and cut her free while Daryl gently released the tape from her mouth. She wrapped her arms around him; holding him close and he had to remember why she was naked again and focus on getting them out. Connor grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders before running around the house grabbing everything he could.

"Are you okay?" Daryl asked, looking at Beth, tears were streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry." She wiped her eyes pulling the blanket closer around herself.

Daryl took the clothes Connor handed him and shook his head. "Don't you apologize, this ain't your fault." He turned his back as she got dressed. "They touch you?" he asked, waiting for her to get dressed.

"No," she whispered.

"Good." Daryl took two of the bags Connor handed him and guided her out of the house and into the car. He wanted to talk to her, wanted to look her over, really make sure she was okay but they needed to get out of there before the bosses showed up. "Where are we going?" he asked, looking at Connor as he drove them away from the cabin.

"Merle's," Connor answered, pulling onto the highway. He glanced in the mirror at Beth. She was curled up on the back seat, staring out of the window. Daryl knew she was getting ready to shut down again, but he couldn't do anything about that right now. He wished he could, but until they were safe at Merle's he didn't know what he could do, not in the car, not with Connor. He loved his brother, more than anything, but he knew Beth wouldn't want to talk in front of him. It was his own damn fault for getting her into this. He was the one who had grabbed her from her home and thrown her into this. He was a classic asshole. He sighed and rubbed his face, lighting up a cigarette as Connor drove them to their cousin's house.