For The Love Of Dixon (A Daryl Dixon Love Story) (WATTY AWARDS 2013)

Chapter 3

The regularity in Daryl's firm voice made bits of guilt break through the barriers that I had put up against any feeling towards the jerk Merle Dixon was. His brother was here, calling out to him like he expected nothing. We were all back, why shouldn't Merle be too?

Biting my bottom lip, I shuffled past him with my head low not wanting to make eye contact. He was like a snake, make a sharp or suspicious move and you'll have venom burning your veins faster than you can even tell what had happened.

I moved back and hated how I stood along with everyone else, staring at Daryl, sharing the secret. My arms crossed lightly and I cleared the back of my throat, wishing I had water to sip back. Wishing I could do anything but this right now. "Is he dead?" Daryl questioned, knowing this is what Shane was implying.

He seemed to stand up straighter, pulling up his guard. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it," Rick stepped up, taking the initiative that no one else was prepared to bare. The fact was, if Rick hadn't come along, who knows what Merle would have done. Get us killed, no less.

My gaze flicked to T-Dog, who just walked up with a bunch of logs for tonight's fire. "So I handcuffed him to the roof, hooked up to a piece of metal. He's still there," Rick explained straight forward, bringing me back to the situation.

Daryl paced a bit, not wanting to believe it. He wiped once at his eye that I could tell had reddened from the information. His only flesh and blood left surrounded somewhere with a mass of walkers around. "So you handcuffed my brother to a roof and left him there?!" Daryl yelled.

When we were teens, Daryl's complexion was a little healthier, then again so was everyone else's. He still had the bags under his eyes then as well, looking like he had insomnia and never slept. There wasn't a day I didn't see him without a cigarette between his lips, and now he scavenges for whatever he can find.

There were better qualities as well. Like the way his mocking eyes turned warm when he looked intently at me, whispering to me things that he'd never show and tell in public. His big hands, that are sturdier now, held me with a certain delicacy I couldn't place. How he could make fun of me, jokingly of course, and be a rowdy sarcastic person, rude at many times. Yet, he still had respect, never pushing me, unless he's being playful. Watching over me, having that soft spot tell me that he still cares. Even now, where he keeps up his 'badass' attitude 24/7.

Occasionally my eyes would drift over to his, only to see him looking back, but not at this moment. Shane had Daryl in a choke hold immediately when he pulled his knife out, aiming to cut. Kill, if he hadn't been stopped.

"Let him go," I said not liking the way he struggled to get free. "I think it's better if I don't," Shane replied against the man's grunts of protest. "It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it.," T-Dog manned up after they let him go. "I dropped it down a drain."

Daryl sucked in deep breaths before hoisting himself up. "If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don't." He was letting his guard slip every time he wiped at his eyes. Only a single time. "Hell with all y'all. Just tell me where he is so I can go find him."

"He'll show you," Lori said before stepping into the RV most likely to be with Carl. At least I wasn't the only one who didn't know what Rick was thinking about leaving. He couldn't be serious. We just got back. I already knew that if the guys were heading back out, I would go with them. Hell, I was probably the only woman who would.

"I'm going back," Rick clarified then. As the guys broke apart to get ready, I watched Daryl grab his crossbow. He was gearing up, going in head first without thinking of what'll be out there. I quickly ran back to my tent and dumped basically everything out of my bag except for a couple bottles of water and fruit bars.

I switched the comfortable shoes I was wearing to my Converse that were already ripping at the sides. I adored them regardless since they allowed me to run if needed. Tightening my ponytail, I got out and zipped the tent back up. When I turned around, I gasped at Daryl standing in front of me. He still stood wearing that frustrated facial expression that turned the cornered of his mouth downward.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. "What does it look like?" I retorted while walking past him. "Stop beating around the question. You aren't going with us," Daryl said firmly, "you don't even have a weapon. Just that stupid pocketknife you carry around so boldly." He brushed past me, purposefully shoving me with his bare shoulder.

"Well unless you're going to hand over your own knife," I hinted, knowing him and his crossbow would never part. "Emery, you can forget it. Just stay here where it's safe. You'll just slow us down," Daryl rubbed his face.

I scoffed. "What, because I'm a girl? Remember it was me that busted your lip in high school," I frowned. He was being difficult, as always. More hands to cover their back is what they would need. "Only because I let you," there was a wistful spark in his eye as he rubbed lightly at his bottom lip with one of his fingers in comprehension. That was a habit I noticed he always did.

"Keep telling yourself that," I muttered walking back to the others. I flashed a brief smile at Glenn, who raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between Daryl and I. "Every night," Daryl replied with a smirk. "Good thing the sun is still up. Are we leaving now?" I asked. He sighed, deciding to ignore me and continued to get ready as Rick and Shane walked up

--

There's chapter 3! Please tell me what you think! I think this is my favorite story I've wrote so far!! Comment, Vote, Follow!

XOXO Jess