Daryl's Angel (10th Anniversary Edition)

Chapter 67: Liar

When the doors creak open, it's easy to see that this place used to be a garage. The inside is nothing but one giant room with various old-fashioned sports cars and a few half-fixed trucks parked throughout, each covered in a fine layer of dust.

The men move inside, one by one, guns and bows raised and ready. Daryl and I are the last ones through, and Daryl drags the sliding door shut behind us. The Claimers have already spread out, eyes roaming.

Daryl hands me his garbage bag and sets his crossbow down on the hood of the nearest car to us. He tugs off the tarp covering most of it, revealing a beat-up yellow thing that I can't see the name of anywhere. He tests the doors, opening one.

"They ain't here," Tony says. "Nobody's been here for a while. Whoever it was, they got all the gas."

"That don't matter," Joe says, popping the trunk on one car and rifling through it.

Billy walks over, shoving me aside with his shoulder. "Claimed!" he says, fixing Daryl with a pointed look.

Daryl glares at him, but says nothing as he puts his hand on the small of my back, pushing me along and grabbing his crossbow from the hood. All around us, the word echoes as each Claimer picks a car to spend the night in. Daryl starts towards a blue truck, only for Len to toss his stuff inside first.

"Claimed," he says, smirking.

Daryl turns away again. I'm almost frustrated at why he won't just claim one for us, but I know it's his pride. I can't even try to claim it, as they won't take me seriously. Finally, Daryl gives in, bringing us over to the far wall, tucked behind a few claimed cars, and sets his stuff down. Suddenly, I'm sorry I ever thought about complaining about the forest floor.

"Sorry," he mutters to me.

"Don't be," I reply.

We sit against the wall as the men settle in. Normally, I'd think it's too early to be turning in, but I can at least see the logic of stopping here. Along the tracks, there aren't many landmarks, much less safe places to rest.

Daryl nudges me and I look over just as he gets to his feet. "Come on. Gotta take a piss."

"And you need a chaperone?" I tease lightly.

For a second, his facial expression twitches, like I've hit a nerve. But, he grabs my hand and pulls me back to my feet, shaking his head. "You know."

Yeah, I know. I don't want to be left alone in here with them anyway.

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We head outside and Daryl leads us down the side of the garage and around the back. There are trees there, mostly secluded, and thick with underbrush that covers anything that the rusty red walls of the garage don't. It's secluded. Private.

I bite my lower lip as I linger against the garage wall, waiting at a distance while Daryl finishes up. I hear his belt buckle clinking as he comes out from behind the tree.

"Wait," I say. He pauses and my gaze darts to his hands still clasped around the belt. "Maybe...don't do that up yet."

His eyebrows lift as he eyes me and I avert my gaze for a second, shyness enveloping me. It's stupid to be thinking about this after what we've been through, but god, I miss him. I want him.

"What're you thinking about, angel face?" he asks even as he comes to me.

I missed that nickname too. He stops barely an inch from my body and I flex my fingers against the wall behind me.

"I was just thinking about how they can't see us here," I say, "and...how I really, really want you to kiss me."

For a second, I catch that devilish, barely-there smirk of his, and then his mouth is on mine. I sink into the embrace, letting him part my lips with his tongue, breathing him in. He tastes like cinnamon. His hands roam down my sides, sending wonderful, scorching tingles through every part of me.