Trespassing (Daryl Dixon x OC)

Had Enough

"You greedy little bastard, you will get what you deserve."

About a week had passed. Glenn and Rick found Hershel drinking in an abandoned bar, having then been attacked by a group of men. They said they killed a few, taking one hostage. Although, Rick didn't like when I used that word on him.

Tension has been thick between the Grimes and Shane, as well as Shane and I. He greatly tried to avoid eye contact whenever he was in my presence. I'd just glare at him. Daryl and I have been steady; not really acting upon our confessions, not being angry at each other, kind of just laying low, not wanting to chance anything. We haven't kissed since that day, nor have we been extremely close. Yeah, we'd sit with each other and talk, but it was at a friendly distance. But it was all understandable, having a hostage will do that.

Rick and Shane were supposed to free our hostage, Randall. I don't see how neither of them thought it would go badly, but it inevitably did. Well, it was all Shane's fault, but who am I to judge? The three of them barely made it out alive; another herd attack. We kept Randall in another room, secured to make sure he wouldn't do anything stupid, while Rick talked to Daryl.

"You wanna interrogate him?" Rick asked.

"Why me?" Daryl questioned.

"I'm just asking," said Rick. "He already knows me and Shane, maybe someone else could get something out of him. He said he went to school with Maggie, we have to make sure he's still not a threat."

Daryl and I shared a glance. "I'll help," I said.

"Belle, you don't have to."

"Rick," I said, pausing slightly, "I'm helping."

Daryl and I entered the room Randall was in. His demeanor changed once he looked at me, like a cat on the prowl. It made me sick, honestly. I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Hey," Daryl said leaning over Randall, "eyes on me."

"She yours?" Randall asked, undoubtedly trying to push Daryl's buttons.

"She ain't yours," he threatened.

"Can we cut the shit?" I asked, annoyed and pushing off the wall. "You got a group, yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"They good people?"

"I ain't like them," he said.

I leaned over him, placing a hand on the back of the chair he was sitting in. "That wasn't my question. My question was: are they good people?"

Randall hesitated for a moment. "They got a history," he said.

"Of what?" Daryl chimed from behind me.

"Of raping women," he said almost deviously.

"How many?" I asked.

"Thirty, armed."

None of us said anything for a moment. I just stared at Randall; he seemed innocent, and to be telling the truth. It didn't stop me from punching him hard in the jaw.