Taboo (Merle Dixon x OFC)

Chapter 21

As soon as we had parked in the woods and hopped out of the truck, Merle was crouched down and inspecting the ground. Abandoning the wooden fruit basket I had taken from the bed of the truck, I stepped up next to him.

"What is it? Some kinda animal?" I asked curiously, resting my hand on his shoulder.

"No. Some fuckin' asshole's been back here," he said quietly, tracing a print I couldn't see with his fingertip.

"I don't see anythin'." I shrugged, looking down at what just looked like a faint dirt path to me.

I was no tracker. I knew a little bit about it because Merle and my Daddy had taught me when they had taught me how to hunt and shoot guns, but Merle and Daryl were the best at that sort of thing. They saw things no one could see. They had been tracking their whole lives. I could pick out random animal prints, but when it came to humans, I knew nothing.

"It's faint but it's definitely a human footprint," Merle stated, glancing up at me.

"Umm, I ain't tryin' ta dismiss yer awesome trackin' skills, but are ya sure ya ain't just high and bein' paranoid?" I asked cautiously, stroking his sweat dampened hair.

"No. I'm high as fuck, but I know a human footprint when I see one." He stood up, huffing irritably. "Whoever it is was back here within the last few days. It's prolly just a thief wantin' my fruit. Maybe one o' the fuckin' assholes that lives 'round here. They might'a even found my weed. I won't know 'til we follow the path they left b'hind. Better take my gun just in case." He reached in through the open truck window and retrieved his gun from the glove box. "Whoever it is is prolly long gone, but better safe than fuckin' sorry. Leave the baskets here fer now. We gotta check this out, and we don't need any extra shit ta carry in case somethin' goes down."

"Yeah," I agreed, feeling a little bit nervous.

Not only was Merle high on coke and getting a little pissed, but we didn't know who had been on his private property. It could be a thief like he said, or it could be a gangster from Atlanta. With everything that had happened in the last few days, it could be anyone.

Merle was impulsive and erratic when he was high on coke. He would be fine one minute and totally and completely pissed the next. He was a little unpredictable. He was unpredictable all the time when it came to his nasty temper, but even more so when he was high on coke. I never knew what little thing was going to make him fly off the handle.

"Hey," Merle said softly, watching me chew my lip. "It's okay. Just stay b'hind me and you'll be just fine."

"I don't even wanna tell ya what I'm thinkin'. Not while yer high," I muttered.

"I already know. Ya ain't gotta say nothin'." He ran his fingertip down my jaw, his blue eyes penetrating mine deeply. He seemed to be calming down. "Listen ta me. I know what's circlin' 'round that intelligent brain o' yers, but I don't think that's the case at all. They'd be smarter 'bout it. They wouldn't leave tracks b'hind. They wouldn't even come here. They'd just go straight ta the cabin and take care o' business." Chuckling, he tucked a stray hair behind my ear.

"Who's the one bein' paranoid now?" he added, smirking. "Ya ain't even high on coke."

"Me," I said, taking a disheveled breath.

"Yeah." Merle nodded, leaning in to kiss my lips. "C'mon. Let's follow these tracks. Remember ta stay b'hind me." My hands clutched at his overall straps before he could back away.

"I just..." I wound my arms around his waist, giving him an anxious look. The hand that was holding his gun stayed at his side, but his other arm went around me tightly.