Don't Lie to Me | Daryl Dixon

Chapter 10 - Finally Free

TWO DAYS LATER

A funeral had been held yesterday for all the Alexandrians who lost their lives in the attack. It was a heart-breaking affair as the people who survived buried several people they considered friends. Family. Deanna was distraught that something like this could happen to the town she dedicated her life to leading. After the service, Rick insisted that they start carrying guns and weapons around the town from now on, everyone agreed, wanting to prevent something like the Wolves from ever happening to them again. 

Rachel was on her knees as she harshly scrubbed the carpet of the upstairs hall, ridding the floors of the blood stains from the men she had killed just forty hours ago. Her hands were clammy in the rubber gloves, her elbows burning with how hard she was scrubbing. Her hair was in a low bun, her side fringes falling over her face, refusing to stay tucked behind her ears. 

It was mid-morning, and all the windows upstairs were open to try and lessen the stench of the cleaning products she had used all over the house. There wasn't a single surface she hadn't polished, shampooed, or bleached. Even the rooms where the Wolves hadn't even been into. She was cleansing the house of their presence. 

This house was her home. It was one thing killing and fighting outside Alexandria, or even out on the street. But to have killed several men within the same walls she was raising her daughter left an uncertain feeling in the pit of Rachel's stomach. She couldn't wrap her daughter in cotton wool, but if she could protect her from the harshness of the world, she absolutely would. 

Speaking of Mya, she was currently across the street with Maggie and Glenn after the young couple had offered to babysit when Rachel mentions she was going to work on the house. At first, Rachel felt a little silly for being so dead set on clearing up, but the others seemed to understand her reasoning. 

The white foam was stained red from the blood as Rachel squeezed the yellow sponge over the bucket of water, ringing it out before scrubbing the stain again. Her soul focus was cleaning up, and she ignored when she heard Thomas' footsteps coming up the stairs, and she blanked him when he walked around to stand in front of where she knelt. 

"Rach," he called. 

She ignored him. 

"Rachel."

Still no response. 

Thomas stepped closer, crouching in front of his wife. "Will you stop acting like a child and actually talk to me?" he seethed. 

Finally, catching her breath from the harsh scrubbing of the carpet, she stopped to look at him. "I'm a little busy right now."

Thomas sighed, anger stemming from the pit of his stomach at her blunt tone. "You have barely said two words to me since-"

"Since our home got attacked, and you spent the entire time hiding in a fucking basement?" Rachel cut him off bitterly. "Meanwhile, I took on three of those assholes, in our home, alone, whilst my daughter was locked in her bedroom, crying for me." She threw her sponge into the soapy bucket of water, a small splash of bubbles landing on the soaked carpet. "Forgive me for being pissed off."

She got up and walked downstairs, pulling off the rubber gloves and tossing them onto the kitchen counter. There wasn't as much daylight coming in downstairs as normal, as the window that was smashed had been boarded up, making the room gloomy.

Thomas stormed down the stairs a moment later, rage clear in his dark eyes. He stood on the other side of the kitchen counter from Rachel and slammed his hands down on the marble surface.

"Where do you get off talking to me like that?" he growled. "I made a mistake by hiding, fine. I hold my hands up to that, okay? But that don't give you the right to be mad, and it didn't give that asshole Rick the right to pin me up in front of everyone."