Spiced Molasses

Chapter 20

Beth licked her lips nervously. The comfortable warmth the wine had imbued her with had vanished. The afternoon light had settled into a mellow dusk and the party showed no signs of slowing down.

Daryl fit his hand in hers, keeping her close to him as he manoeuvred easily through the crowd. Beth didn't want to meet his brother. Daryl had explained he was the biggest hurdle to their little charade. Beth had tried to picture what the other Dixon brother might look like but the closest she got was imaging the same piercing blue eyes that Daryl had. From everything she had heard, she had good reason to fear Merle.

Beth breathed a little easier when she spotted Karen was part of the group they were heading towards.

"Hey you two, have you had anything to eat?" Karen called.

Beth didn't think she could eat anything now her stomach was in bunches.

"Are you hungry?" Daryl asked her seriously. Beth shook her head. She wanted to get this over and done with. As if he read her thoughts, his fingers tightened around hers.

Beth spotted a man watching her and knew instantly that it was Merle. A cold sensation ran down her spine like iced water. He was obviously older than Daryl and slightly more ragged but he looked strong. He was squinting at her as if trying to pry open her head with his gaze alone.

"This the new bed warmer?" he asked in a rusty voice. It had the same twang as Daryl's but none of the heat Beth had come to recognise. Beth flushed at the crude term.

"Well I call her Beth," Daryl retorted quickly, not flustered at all.

"Beth, is it?" Merle swung his gaze to her, looking her up and down. Daryl had led her to believe that Merle was drunk but the way he studied her was too careful. The ruddy tinge in his cheeks may have been attributed to alcohol but it hadn't slowed his mind.

Beth nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Merle flicked the stare down to their joined hands and Beth hoped he couldn't see how tightly she was gripping Daryl in the dim light.

"Why you holding her so close, baby brother? Afraid I'm going to do something?"

Daryl had been vague about his brother and now Beth was beginning to understand why. Merle was acerbic and unpleasant. Worse than that, he was observant.

"Don't trust you much around a pretty girl."

"Your plaything's safe from me," Merle promised crossing his arms. "I prefer a few more miles on the meter, if you know what I mean."

Beth had been warned her age might be a point of mockery but she hadn't expected such an obvious lampoon at her inexperience.

"Isn't that how you got the clap?" a voice sung out and Beth could have hugged Haley for her timely and bold intervention. She had caught the end of Merle's comment clearly. From the way Merle's eyes flashed there was no love lost there. Maybe because Haley was blatantly unafraid of the older man.

"I had my fun," Merle claimed with a smirk. "You don't look like you'd be much fun." That was addressed to Beth and she was the sole focus of his attention once more.

"Merle," Daryl growled warningly.

"Let me guess, she's a missionary girl," Merle taunted ignoring Daryl's caution.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Enough trying to torture her. We get it. You're tough an' mean."

"You her lover or her protector, Darylina?" Something in the way Merle phrased the question made it very loaded.

"I'm both," Daryl snapped back, his patience waning.

"You were always so quick to get your panties in a twist, little brother."