Daryl's Angel: Saviour (Book Two)

Chapter 45: Emergent

I wake the next morning when I feel Daryl climbing out of bed. I sit up, still groggy, to find him pulling on his clothes with quick, sure movements.

"Where are you going? I didn't think you had guard duty," I say, fighting back a yawn.

"I'm doing something," he says. "Goin' out."

My sleepiness dissipates, and I climb out of bed. He's already mostly dressed, tugging on his vest, and I block the door with my body before he can leave.

"You're going to need to be a lot more specific," I say.

He doesn't look me in the eye. "I ain't waiting around for an attack, Hope. I'll take care of it."

He brushes me aside, and I let out a sputtering noise. I'm wearing a t-shirt and underwear, leaving me scrambling to find my jeans, half-yanking them on as I hurry after him. I get out the front door by the time he's mounted his motorcycle, crossbow on the back, and I get in front of him before he can drive off.

"No," I tell him. "Whatever you think you're doing, that is not the right call."

"I've gotta."

"No!" I repeat. "All you've gotta do is stay here."

He jerks the bike around me, brushing my hands away when I try to grab the handlebars, and he kicks it into gear and blows past me.

"Daryl!"

No. No, we're not doing this again. I won't go through this again, and this time, I'm mad.

I run after him. I pray someone at the gates will stop him if I don't get there in time. He can't get up to full speed inside the walls, but man, an early morning sprint was not on my schedule for today. As he rolls up to the gate and gets off his bike, I see Glenn, Michonne, and Maggie watching from close by. Abraham and Rosita guard the front, talking to him as he pulls the first part of the gate aside.

"No shit. You got specifics?" Abraham calls down from his post just as I arrive.

Daryl turns and runs straight into me. I push back against his chest, blocking his way to the second part of the gate.

"What did I say about revenge plots?" I snap.

He tries to brush past me, but I side-step, then step again. His nostrils flare, and he grasps my shoulders, forcibly moving me out of the way. He doesn't acknowledge me as he yanks the gate open. I try to block him, but again, he shoves me away with his whole body like I weigh nothing.

So, I block his bike instead. I'm going to be such a massive pain in the ass that it won't be worth it to leave, if that's what it takes. He glares at me as he moves to his bike, and I climb onto the bike instead, planting my ass in the seat and crossing my arms over my chest.

"If you leave, I'll follow you. Is that what you want?" I demand.

"You ain't leaving," he says. "And you ain't following neither."

"Watch me. I'm not letting you do this. You're going to get yourself killed!"

He grabs my arms and hauls me off the seat, and I'm so sick of being manhandled that I shove against him again. If he wants to throw his weight around and act all tough, then fine, but I'm going to make it as hard for him as possible. I push him again, and his expression snaps with rage.

"Daryl, maybe take a breath," Rosita says as he gets past me and mounts his bike.

I put myself in front of it, grabbing the handlebars and straddling the front wheel, meeting his glare head-on. "Don't. Leave."