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WHAT EXACTLY WERE YOU supposed to feel when people you have once considered friends only for them to leave you for dead end up dead themselves? Danielle Linden had no fucking clue. On one hand, she felt justified in being happy that they had paid for what they had done to both her and to Joel, but on the other hand, a sick, self loathing feeling twisted itself in her gut as the image of their dead bodies slowly draining of their blood was imprinted on her brain.
She felt horrid in how she didn't feel bad for them. Yeah, Mel had been pregnant and her death was sad but...she had gotten herself into that mess, right? By siding with Abby and aiding in the murder of Joel Miller, Mel had essentially signed her own death warrant. This was the very thing that had Danielle completely disgusted with herself.
What was wrong with her? Why didn't she feel sorry for them? They were dead. Gone, never to breathe in another breath of oxygen or to smile as the summer sun beamed down on them. Mel and Owen were gone and so was their unborn child. An entire family was wiped out in a matter of minutes and Danielle just felt numb.
She honestly just felt like a bitch. As the brunette sat with her legs crossed on the dust covered, grey couch near the front of the theatre, all she could think about was her apparent lack of a heart. Perhaps she was colder than she believed. That was the only thing that could explain her inability to feel remorse in having played a part in their deaths.
The unmistakable scuffing of shoes against the wooden floorboards broke the silence that had Danielle wondering who it was that was coming to see her or if they were coming to see her at all. Maybe they just wanted a break from everything and the only free place to go was the former foyer.
"How you doin', kiddo?"
And there it was. The Texas twang that perfectly matched how Tommy Miller presented himself. The southern drawl that graced his voice was interwoven with each word that gave life and personality to each one.
The brunette glanced up to see Tommy, clad in his dark boots, greyish-blue jeans and his zipped up, light brown jacket that looked as though he had been wearing it since outbreak day. Danielle could remember the first time she had met Tommy and Joel and how before she had even heard the two men speak, she just knew that were from the south. The way the two had carried themselves with such assurance that only a man from the Southern states could accomplish.
For anyone else, it would have seemed far too cocky and off putting but for Tommy and Joel, it just seemed to fit them. Like they weren't capable of being assholes. She was sure they could be if absolutely necessary but they didn't seem the type.
