Taking a Chance

Chapter 6

Daryl stood outside the entrance to the hotel smoking a cigarette. He had come down a few minutes early so he could sneak one in before meeting up with Rick. He looked around at the hordes of people milling around and the colorful flashing lights coming from every single business. There were casinos absolutely everywhere. He had never seen anything like it. Daryl thought he may go look at the big casino the Bellagio had, but he wasn't a gambler. You needed money to gamble and he had none to spare.

Everything here was so different than what he was used to, including the heat. Georgia gave him hot steamy days, the humidity was what typically made the days unbearable, but Vegas was different. It was just hot, really hot, but no humidity at all. At least he wasn't drenched in sweat like he usually was at home since he was wearing the only decent outfit he had.

Michonne had helped him buy something for the wedding. It wasn't fancy, just a black button down shirt and a pair of black pants that wasn't jeans or work pants. He still had his work boots on, but at least they were clean now.

After taking his last drag of the cigarette, he headed inside to find the bar. After the stress of the last few days, he certainly could use a drink or three. Maybe with a few under his belt, he'd be able to handle the Princess better. They'd be stuck together all evening and he wasn't looking forward to it.

Rick was sitting at the bar when he arrived. He was dressed in jacket and tie and was already nursing a beer. The bartender saw Daryl sit down and walked over placing a coaster down in front of him. "What can I get for you?"

"Two shots of Jack and whatever you have on tap," he told him.

The bartender poured the two shots. "We have thirty-two beers on tap."

"Fuck. Seriously?" The bartender nodded as he placed the shots down. "Just make it Bud."

While Daryl waited for his beer, he picked up a shot glass. "To you, man. I can't believe you're fuckin' getting married, but couldn't be to a better woman." They clinked their glasses together and threw back the shot.

The bartender delivered his beer. "Do it again," Daryl told him. Two more shots appeared in front of them.

"To Mr. and Mrs. G. Your boy done good...real good. I sure miss ya both." The second toast was emotional for them both. Daryl hadn't expected to say that, but it just came out. He quickly threw back the second shot and turned his head so Rick didn't see the lone tear that threatened to fall. He quickly blinked it away.

Rick was touched by Daryl's words. "You know they both loved you, right?"

"Yeah," Daryl said taking a big sip of his beer. "Always wished they were my parents when I was a kid. I never knew how they convinced my old man to let them be my guardians after that night." Rick and Daryl both knew what night he meant. The night a sixteen-year-old boy finally fought back or he would have ended up another broken bloody mess at the hands of his out of control alcoholic father.

Rick had known for years what had happened, but Daryl never asked so he kept it to himself. "Dad went over to your house the next day. He had a friend that was a lawyer, who quickly drew up a custody agreement that morning. He told your old man that if he didn't sign it, he'd call the cops on him about his continued abuse of you and then he'd beat the shit outta him so bad, he'd be lucky to ever walk again. Dad wasn't playing games when he went over there," Rick told him. He took a long swallow from his beer.

"Then apparently, your father started mouthing off to him and all I know is that Dad came back with bruised knuckles that day and a signed agreement."

"How do you know this? Daryl asked stunned. "You never told me." He finished his beer and signaled for another.

"You were sound asleep that morning, in fact, I think you slept most of the day. I overheard my Mom and Dad talking in the kitchen once he finally got back. I peeked in there and saw Mom cleaning his hands with the first aid kit. I heard her ask him, 'Is he ours?' and Dad said, 'Finally.' They loved you like you were their own, Daryl. Besides the day that Mom died, that was the only other time I saw my father cry."