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Merle was in the hole again, and now it was up to Daryl to pay the bills and watch his stuff. Merle was always real possessive of his stuff, knew when things had been moved even an inch. Daryl learned that the hard way. He was like their old man like that, some kind of sixth sense.
Course Daryl knew where his shit was too, he just didn’t have much of it. It was Merle’s shitty shack. Merle’s drugs. Merle’s dirty drawers he left sitting in the middle of the floor for weeks now. Merle’s truck.
He would say that Daryl was a freeloader, and since he was such a giving brother, all he would ask is that he play guard dog for his stuff. It was like he expected him to take a bullet for the useless junk. Well it wasn’t like, he did expect it of him. Last time, Daryl was watching tv when crackhead Ricky showed up, wanting Merle’s stash.
Some deal gone wrong, he figured. But the dude had a gun, and Daryl was in only his drawers, so he let him take it. Merle was spitting fire when he got home, telling him what he shoulda done, which was apparently take a bullet up the ass for his drugs.
Now he was crawling up his ass lately about the new catalytic converter he put on his truck. Last one got stolen outside the dive bar he frequented, and he had to spend a pretty penny to replace it.
“You better not let anyone jack my shit, you hear me?” He growled before he went out to the bar, taking his bike this time. The next line of communication was a phone call from the jail, and it was basically to demand he get the bail money straight, and to watch his shit.
Daryl sighed as he pulled on his jeans, haphazardly zipping them up, not bothering to button them as he headed out. He snatched the dented box of marlboros from the dust-covered fireplace mantle, heading out barefoot to sit out on his porch. He grunted as he opened the door, slipping a cigarette between his lips, before freezing as he saw a figure ducking behind Merle’s truck.
Well shit, he didn’t think he’d have to defend the truck for real. Just figured he’d sit out on the porch and watch it. He slipped his hand behind the door frame slowly, getting the 28 gauge shotgun, eyes narrowing dangerously. He stalked slowly up to the truck, hearing some shuffling from the other side, and he aimed the gun over the truck bed, calling out, “Go on and git out of there, aint stealing no cataclysm convert or whatever today.”
The shuffling stopped for a moment before returning, and he growled out, “Hey didn’t you hear me asshole, I told you to git! Do you want me to put a cap in your ass?” He pumped the gun to make his point, and that seemed to get them moving.
But it wasn’t a tweaker like he was expecting to scare off. No, out popped out a young woman, her blonde hair up in a ponytail, blinking the sweetest blue eyes he’s ever seen. She put her hands up quickly in defense, stuttering in a georgian accent, “I-I wasn’t trying to steal, there’s a kitten under-”
“You really think I’m that stupid girl?” He cut her off, aiming the gun at her, but there was a waver in his stance.
She seemed to gawk at that, her brows furrowing together as she lowered her hands, asking with an attitude now, “Do I look like a criminal to you?”
To be honest, no. She didn’t. She looked more like she was going to church, in her canary yellow button up dress, little white shoes that barely had a heel. She looked rather sweet actually, with her pouty lips, those pretty big eyes. He realized he was staring and quickly cleared his throat, flexing his arms as he held the shotgun, “A criminal can be pretty, don’t mean nothing.”
She seemed to pause at that, her expression softening a bit, tilting her head to the side as her lips curl at the edge. Shit. He did not mean to say that. Or rather, it was supposed to sound more like an insult. Not.. like he was flirting. Cause he wasn’t. He was defending his brother’s truck.
“Just- Just back away from the truck!” He barked, his ears feeling like they were burning.
Her eyes looked him over curiously, before she enunciated, “I will in a second, I just need to-”
But he shouted over her, “No! Now!”
“Now you listen here!” She stomped her foot angrily, the one inch heel clicking on the pavement. Then he heard it. The tiny soft meow, coming from under the truck. She stopped immediately in what she was saying before bending back down, reaching her arm out, speaking softly to the creature, “It’s okay honey, come here.”
As the young woman rose back up with a dirty white kitten in her hands, he felt like a total asshole. She really was getting a kitten. Of course. Of course a girl like her wasn’t trying to steal from his brother’s truck. Idiot.
While he stood frozen, she simply raised a brow at him, cradling the kitten to her chest, “Well? You gonna keep pointing that gun at me, or are you gonna say sorry?”
Daryl blinked in shock, before he said defensively, “Excuse me? This is my pro-”
“You are excused!” She bursted over him angrily, huffing, “Aint so nice being interrupted, is it? If you had just let me explain, this could have been over with, but noo, you had to point a gun at me!”
He lowered the gun, eyes wide as he watched her round the truck, stomping to his place. She held the kitten protectively while still scolding him, looking up at him, “I mean seriously, haven’t you heard of innocent until proven guilty? What would I even want with your truck, your converter whatever?”
He continued to stare at her, jumping as she raised her voice, “Well?! I’m waiting!”
“I-It’s not my truck..” Daryl mumbled.
“It’s not your truck?” She repeated, before she gave him an incredulous, “Then why do you care?”
“It’s my brothers..” He trailed off for a moment, before he tried to gather himself, clearing his throat awkwardly, “Look, it was a misunderstanding, so just take your little rat and go.”
She didn’t leave. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes, before she said, “You’re not very good at apologizing, are you?”
“I aint gotta apologize.” He bit back, beginning to get annoyed. She seemed to disagree, scoffing as he spoke, before she stepped closer to him, “You pointed a gun at my face!”
“It wasn’t loaded. You’ll be fine, princess.”
Her jaw dropped, looking offended for a moment. He didn’t care. What did she expect of him? To get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness? He didn’t lie, the gun wasn’t loaded. Not since Merle went on a bender and nearly shot him in the ass. Now the shells stayed in a box far away from the gun. Usually appearance was enough to intimidate someone away, like him.
But she didn’t seem afraid. No, rather the opposite. She finished her steps to him, before she raised the kitten suddenly up into his face, “How do ya like that, huh?” He grimaced and tried to move back from the peering sad eyes of the kitten, “Stop that.” But the woman followed him, “Uh Uh, what’s the matter? Don’t like things in your face?”
She then lowered the kitten suddenly, poking him in the chest with her thin finger, the sensation leaving a sore feeling in the spot, “Well I don’t like guns in my face! Even if I was touching your truck, or your brother's truck, or whatever, that does not give you the right to point a gun at me!”
Daryl swallowed, looking down to the spitfire of a woman, “Yeah..”
“Yeah what!?” She huffed, poking him in the chest again.
“Y-Yes ma’am..” He stammered weakly, before humiliation sunk into his bones. She was obviously younger than him, he didn’t have to call her that. But she seemed amused, and satisfied, backing off of him. He felt like he could finally breathe as she left his space, but his stomach twisted something awful.
“Good. Now I’m taking this little fella home, so good day.” She said before turning on her heel, and he watched her backside as she began to walk away, blonde ponytail swinging behind her.
Then she stopped in her tracks, and spun around to him again. Oh dear lord. She held the kitten to her chest, looking at him with that pinning glare, “And my name is Beth, not girl or princess, or even asshole, it’s Beth!”
Beth. Beth. It was so sweet, it suited her. She was like poisonous honey. Mad honey as Merle called it, that amber red liquid that he made the mistake of trying one day while hunting after a bad cold snap. On first taste, it’s sweet, lil smokey, but after a minute his tongue and throat felt like it was burning. It felt almost the same as she burned a hole into him with those cool blue eyes.
He gaped like a fish, mouth opening and shutting as he thought about what to say, eventually managing to force out, “Daryl.” It came out gruff, but unsure, like he didn’t know his own name. He wasn’t sure he knew anything anymore.
“Daryl.” Beth repeated his name firmly, “Have a good day.”
What the fuck? He swallowed down the burning sensation in his throat that bubbled up, saying hoarsely, “Y-You too..”
As she turned away, Beth hid her little smile, holding the kitten close as she walked away. As she made some distance, she couldn’t resist one more quip, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll be back to steal the truck later.”
There was silence for a moment, and then she heard it, a snorting laugh. She didn’t dare turn around, scared he’d spot the pink splotches on her cheeks forming.
“I’ll sit out here and watch for ya..”