Last One Standing ~ TWD Daryl Dixon

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Guys, we hit 10K reads. I seriously have no words. I can't believe it. I'm so happy so many people seem to be enjoying my take on TWD, Daryl and of course my creation of Jo. Thank you so much for everyone who continues to read and support this story. I am so grateful! 

I also want to take this moment to thank @DixonLover2724 for nominating Last One Standing and me for TWD Fanfiction Awards! 

So, I genuinely hope you enjoy this update. I promise to have the next one out very soon. Please keep that in mind

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Daryl

It was mid afternoon before I got back to the house empty handed. I was tired and feeling grimy. I would never admit it to anyone, especially Carol, but I was looking forward to a hot shower.

I opened the front door and was surprised to hear music playing. I followed the sound into the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. There was a small CD player sitting on the counter and Jo was putting away dishes and dancing.

She had changed and was wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off a few inches of the smooth skin at the small of her back. I sucked in a breath as she rolled her hips in time to the music. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath as I remembered back to that morning when Carl interrupted us.

When I opened my eyes her back was still to me and she had picked up a kitchen knife. She was twirling it through her fingers in a way that reminded me of a gunslinger from the old west. She rolled it effortlessly and flipped her grip while continuing to put away dishes.

I watched as she moved with the music and when the song changed her arm snapped out. The blade embedded itself in a small target across the kitchen. The blade struck home and she didn't bother to check to see if she hit her target. Another song came on. This one was a sultry blues singer and her hips slowed to a languid pace and she sang softly along. My breath caught in my throat.

She picked up a second knife, this one a large kitchen blade and was playing with it idly.

I was startled by a rap at the backdoor. Jo looked up sharply. She tightened her grip on the knife for a moment before she let it clatter into the sink. She put on a smile and unlocked the french doors.

"Spencer," I didn't like how warmly she said his name. I stepped back deeper into the hall in case she invited him in.

I didn't hear what he said but she laughed warmly. "Yeah, I'll get it," she said and she stepped back into the kitchen.

Spencer followed and stood just inside the door. He watched her closely as she went to the fridge and bent over to get something from the bottom shelf. I watched him stare at her ass, tilting his head to the side so he could get a better look.

I took an aggressive step forward and clenched my fist. I jumped when a hand closed over my arm. I turned around convinced Jo had somehow snuck up on me.

Carol was standing beside me looking on in disapproval, her basket from the pantry still in her arms. I let out a sigh and followed silently behind her as she pulled me back out the door and across the yard to the house next door. She didn't release me until we were on the porch.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, whisper yelling at me.

I shook my head, not meeting her gaze. "Just got home."