Bethany Sutton Chapter 7

Beth was roused from sleep by the notification alert from her phone.

get dressed

Beth looked at the small screen through eyes blurry with sleep. The text had come from Michonne.

shower first

you need it

She was frowning when she texted back.

why

A second later Michonne responded.

the threat’s been gone

for a long time we’ve got the

all clear and its time you

got out of the house for awhile

Beth knew she should have been happier since finding out Tuesday morning that Negan had left the area but the truth was she was afraid. What if they were wrong? What if someone else was in town who worked with Negan and could recognize her?

When Beth didn’t respond via text she got a physical visit from Michonne, who had a very stern look on her face. “Beth, you can’t just lock yourself away. You’re young and outgoing and you need to get out and live. You need some fresh air, some sunshine, and some activity.”

Beth supposed she was right. If she didn’t get outside she would wind up sleeping all day, every day, and that was no good for her.

“Rick and I were wrong about Dixon. If he wants to be friends don’t push him away.”

“Is that why you were at his place? To talk to him about us continuing to be friends?”

Michonne nodded. “He knows the risk. We’ve got him under our protection too. I say give a friendship with him a shot. Keep it platonic, for your sake. We both know he’s not boyfriend material.”

There was more truth to that than Beth wanted to face. Daryl had clients that paid him for sex and she couldn’t see him falling desperately in love with her and leaving them for a monogamous relationship with a woman half his age. He was a whore, after all, and women were something to be used to pad his wallet, or to satisfy his lusts, but probably never to love. She could be friendly with him, hang out with him, but she wouldn’t allow herself to think he could love her.

“Where are we going?”

Michonne handed her the keys to the Buick. “You going out for a ride, alone. It’s the white Buick in the parking lot by the back door. Learn the town. Window shop. Sing along to some music on the radio. Lori will shadow you so you won’t be completely on your own.”

Beth nodded and started to go back inside, but stopped and called out to Michonne. “What does she do, exactly, on your team?”

“She’s a sniper.”

“Don’t they kill people?”

“If they have to. Don’t worry, she won’t have to. Not today. Now get cleaned up. Maybe take a walk at Meadow Park. They have a beautiful trail.”

The idea of taking a walk, of being out in the open, breathing in fresh air and stretching her legs lifted Beth’s spirits. She had something to look forward to and that mattered. She enjoyed a hot shower and then dressed in a pair of cutoffs and her new Nike’s. She threw on a green tee-shirt and then checked her reflection in the mirror. She was pale. It would do her good to get out and get some sun.

.

When Beth stepped outside she was a little wary of anyone who may be nearby. She overcame her reluctance to leave the safety of the apartment building when she spotted Lori in the black SUV. The woman smiled encouragingly at her and, after a little wave of acknowledgement, Beth hurried to the Buick and climbed in. It was a really nice car. Nicer than she was accustomed to.

It was surprising how easy it was to forget Lori tailed her as she drove the streets of Springston. The entire town looked like it belonged on a postcard. It was an upscale neighborhood, something that would have strained her father’s wallet to call home. Not that he’d want to. Despite its rustic charm it was still too urban for him. He’d preferred to stay on the farm rather than spend much time in town. She parked and got out to start walking the streets, looking into shop windows and occasionally going inside to look through the wares, and eventually all worry about an assassin popping up out of nowhere went forgotten.

After an hour or so of looking and not buying, with her resolve to not pull out the Visa card Rick had given her for emergencies beginning to fail, Beth headed over to Meadow Park. It was a beautiful place with perfectly manicured grass and old trees. Kids yelled and played on the swing sets and merry-go-rounds while their parents, mostly mothers, stood in groups to talk.

The trail entrance was covered in shade and Beth was, for a moment, hesitant to go in until she saw Lori hanging back some distance, her sharp eyes looking around for any sign of a threat. Confident she was safe, Beth started onto the trail, passing people out for a walk or a run. After some stretches to loosen up muscles that had stiffened from too much inactivity, Beth broke into a jog, hoping Lori could keep up, and before she knew it she was lost in the run, concentrating on her breathing and enjoying the feel of her muscles beginning to burn as she pounded the hard-packed dirt path.

There was a rather large pond with pretty white ducks swimming. To her surprise Daryl lounged beside the water, tossing breadcrumbs to the ducks and watching them eat. She wondered if this was some kind of setup orchestrated by Michonne, then decided against it. Daryl would have no way to know she was going to find her way here, considering the different forks in the trail that led in different directions. It was just a coincidence.

Don’t do it. Don’t go over.

She told herself to avoid him even as she jogged his way. He smiled as she approached, looking genuinely happy to see her.

“Sutton. Good to see you out.”

“Good to see you too, Dr. Dixon,” she said, bringing up his latest costume. “Mind some company?”

“Have a seat.”

He passed her the bag of breadcrumbs and she threw some to the ducks.

“So, what’s next? Officer Dixon, General Dixon, Gladiator Dixonus?” she said, grinning.

He shrugged. “I’ve never been a Gladiator before. That would be interesting. Is that a fantasy of yours? To be a Roman lady fucked hard by a dirty, sweaty…”

His voice trailed off when he saw the way Beth’s pupils had dilated and she looked as though she would be blushing and bright red had her jog not already flushed her cheeks to a ruddy shine. He was flirting. He’d started to slip into seduction mode and that wasn’t a good idea.

“Sorry,” he said, keenly aware that she was interested in hearing him complete his question. She was even more interested in experiencing it.

“May I ask a personal question?”

“If I get to ask one,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Shoot.”

“How much do you cost? I mean…how much do you charge…Um…”

He was laughing now at her embarrassment. “I usually go with a six month agreement,” he explained. “I’m paid twenty thousand dollars up front. Each client is entitled to me once a week and they can spend the night if they like. Unless they misbehave, like Ophelia did, then I send them home. I do whatever they ask of me except same-sex encounters in a threesome.”

“Oh. What about just a massage, then?” Beth said, since she didn’t have twenty thousand dollars to buy him.

“Depends on the situation. If you’re at my home I charge between two hundred to three hundred fifty dollars per hour. A basic, full body massage is two hundred. A full treatment is three fifty. I’ll let you in on a secret,” Daryl said, looking around as though he was genuinely worried someone would overhear. Despite herself, Beth waited with baited breath for him to continue. “I’ll give you a free massage sometime. The works. You can’t tell anyone, though, or everybody will expect it.”

She laughed and felt her body begin to relax from the run. She hadn’t jogged in months and had been so sedentary recently she thought she might actually need a massage.

“I’ve done a lot of exercising today. I just may actually need one.”

“I’ll work you into my schedule.”

“Have you had lunch yet?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“Care to join me? I’m cooking.”

“Let’s do it,” he said, and climbed to his feet. He offered her a hand up, which she accepted and, not for the first time, wondered what it would be like to feel those hands on her body. She hoped he worked her into his schedule soon.

.

Lunch became a routine for them. He would stop in around eleven-thirty to eat before heading back to his job as a painter. Normally he would be covered in speckles of, and smelled like, paint and other chemicals. He was often sweaty and dusty but it didn’t bother Beth. She would pour him a glass of iced tea before he would relax on her couch with a sandwich or salad, or a bowl of soup that she’d made. They’d eat and she’d listen to him talk about the latest project he was working on for Parrish Interiors. They didn’t discuss his other work.

It was a good routine, one that made Beth happy, even though she knew his evenings, and most likely nights, would be spent in the arms of one of his clients. She thought that as time went on she could give up any hope of ever being more than friends with Daryl but that was not the case.

Her attraction to him was persistent and it was constantly at war with her desire to see him stop sleeping with his mistresses in order to start something deeper with her. These things went unspoken but she knew they were on his mind as much as they were on hers. It was evident in the quiet pauses between words, in lingering looks, or the brush of their fingers when she passed him lunch, or took his dish after he’d eaten.

“Daryl?” she asked one day, as he was leaving to go back to work. She knew he’d have a client that evening. She knew that when she lay down that night to try to sleep he’d be across the hall, in his bed, with some woman who meant nothing to him because she’d paid him to be there.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be a gladiator with them.”

She felt her face heat with embarrassment that she would make such a request, but she’d come to think of the gladiator thing as theirs, and she didn’t want to happen to see him open his door one evening dressed in that costume.

He nodded once, a look of something suspiciously like guilt in his eyes, and left.

He felt like shit when he closed the door to his apartment. He understood her request because he, too, had thought of the gladiator costume, of wearing it for her and even buying her a Roman style dress to wear for an evening at his place. In fact, he’d even come close to buying the costumes, and felt as though it was something that was theirs, that they could enjoy. Then he remembered he was determined to keep his hands to himself. It was better for her, and it would be better for him, too, to keep their friendship platonic.

Even with his determination to keep his friendship with Bethany completely separate from his professional life, Daryl found that being with Ophelia, Rachelle, and Nora was getting harder to do. He had an appointment with Nora that evening in fact. He’d decided to take the rest of the day off work from his painting job and get some rest before she arrived. Nora was young and athletic and liked it rough. He’d often favored her as a client for her adventurousness. Now he was having difficulty drumming up enthusiasm for her, or the others.

He’d never needed it before but Daryl made sure he had Viagra on hand at all times, just in case he needed a boost. He ended up having to dose before he put on one of the power suits that Nora favored him in and opened the door after her familiar knock. She, too, was dressed in business formal, favoring a skirt just a little too short to be professional or office appropriate, and carried a briefcase that held her favorite handcuffs and whip.

Nora was a tall, beautiful black woman with very dark skin. She kept her hair short to where she was almost bald, and she favored red lipstick. Her full, pouty lips met his in a searing kiss as soon as the door was shut. Sensing something off, she stepped back.

“Is something wrong, Daryl?” she asked in her thick Creole accent.

 “No, I’m fine. Just tired.”

She frowned. “That is too bad. I wanted you to work me hard tonight.”

Her hand unerringly found his cock as she stared into his blue eyes, and she began to stroke. She smiled when he responded appropriately, hardening at her touch. He decided to throw himself into his work and try to forget Bethany Sutton. He’d try to forget that he knew she was starting to feel for him, as he was starting to feel for her, and that those feelings that he shouldn’t be having for a platonic friend were making it harder to do his job. That’s all Nora and the others were. They were work. They were a job that he had to do to earn his pay.

He kissed Nora with a kind of brutal passion that left her breathless and moaning.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he said gruffly, hiking up her skirt and backing her toward his bedroom. “I’m gonna fuck you so goddamn hard.”

She sank to the floor in the middle of the living room and pulled him down with her. “Fuck me here…now…”

“You’re gonna come for me,” Daryl ground out, saying things he’d never let himself say to Bethany if he was with her.

“Yes…yes…”

He yanked off her panties before rolling on a condom. He wrapped her legs around him and closed his eyes. It was easier to pretend, as he began pounding into her, that she was Bethany, if he had his eyes closed.

.

Beth awoke later than usual on Saturday morning to clear skies and gusty winds that blew in the drapes of her living room. She thought of what she'd seen of Daryl’s place and how nicely it was decorated. While she didn’t have his budget, she thought it wouldn’t kill her to do something with her place. The walls were bare. There was nothing of herself in the entire apartment. She was thinking of what to do when her phone rang with an unknown phone number coming up on the screen.

What if it’s Negan?

Hesitantly she answered the phone and said, “Hello?”

“Bethie?”

“Daddy!”

At once Beth began to weep. Her tears were those of joy and sadness combined. What she wouldn’t do to see her father, to hold him, to just stand in his presence and feel his arms around her again.

“Bethie,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s so good to hear your voice, Honey.”

“How are you, Daddy? You’re safe? You’re being treated well?”

“I’m safe. Life isn’t bad here. Wish I could say where I am but it’s not allowed. It’s not the same without you.”

“I miss you so much. I miss Maggie.”

“Carol says I’ve got five minutes and then she has to destroy this phone. You won’t be able to call me back on it. How are you holding up? Are your guards nice to you?”

“They’re great. I had a job but I had to quit because Negan was spotted in the area,” she said, leaving off the part where he damn near saw her. “I’ve made a friend. His name is Daryl. He lives across the hall. He’s a painter by trade.”

She omitted that he was also a whore by trade. She didn’t think her father would care for that too much.

“My girls. You both manage to fall in love regardless of circumstances.”

“I’m not in love, Daddy. Daryl is just a friend.”

“Oh, Bethie. You forget who you’re talking to. I heard the way you said that man’s name. Maggie’s the same way with Glenn.”

“Where is Maggie? I’d like to talk to her.”

“She’s out at the shooting range with Glenn. She wasn’t cleared for this conversation. I don’t know why. She says to send you her love and she can’t wait to see you again.”

“Tell her I love her, too.”

They spoke for a few moments, catching up on what they’d been doing since they were separated. It sounded as though her father and sister were in good hands and leading lives that were fuller than hers since they’d been taken to a horse ranch owned by Carol. All too soon, however, the call had to come to an end and her father had to leave. Carol came onto the line for a moment to tell Beth that they would try to arrange a call between her and her sister if it was at all possible.

Beth hung up the line and laid back on the couch. She’d spoken with her father. She’d gotten to hear his voice. That alone was worth more than anything money could buy. Feeling truly happy for the first time since having to leave her father and sister, even happier than her lunches with Daryl made her, Beth got up to make breakfast. She’d just put water on to boil for her oats when Daryl knocked on the door.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said, leaning in the doorway and completely unaware of how sexy he was and how badly she wanted to pull him into her apartment, drag him to her bed, and have her way with him. She reached up and ran her hand down his chest, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers. She was sure he’d leaned into her touch, as though as hungry for her as she was for him.

She cleared her throat and pulled her hand back.

“What’s that?”

“Let’s create something beautiful together.”

“Daryl, I really like you but I’m not ready for kids just yet.”

He laughed easily at that and kissed her on the forehead. She wanted so badly to tilt her head and capture his lips with hers but she didn’t.

“I’m thinking a garden for the courtyard.”

“Won’t we need permission from the owner for something like that?”

“I haven’t seen the owner since I moved in here three years ago. Fuck ‘em. If they don’t like what we do they can take it down themselves. Let’s do this for us. We’re the only ones who ever go up there anyway.”

“Okay,” she said, caught up in his enthusiasm. “I’m game.”

Daryl had a truck that he sometimes used for work. It was a big, late model, dark gray Ford F250 that she climbed into beside him. They drove all the way across town to get the supplies they’d need for the flowerbeds. Daryl explained the layout he wanted.

“I want to line the edges of the courtyard with flowerbeds, and the corners can have square beds tucked into them,” he said.

“What about putting up a couple to tables with the big umbrellas like they have at cafés with outdoor seating?” she suggested. “That way we could sit up there in the shade in the daytime if we want. We could also barbecue up there.”

He nodded, liking the idea. “We can even get a grill to put up there. We’ll have a cookout once the garden is in bloom to celebrate.”

It took most of the morning to gather supplies. Daryl got oak wood and some weatherproof to keep the planks safe from rain. It was hard work, and took five trips, but they managed to get all the materials from the truck to the rooftop by lunch.

“We'll be feeling this tomorrow,” Beth said, trying to roll an ache out of her shoulders.

“I do this every day so I’m used to it,” Daryl told her. They sat on the rooftop eating salads and gulping bottles of water to replenish what they’d sweated out.

They set to work again. Beth learned how to cut the wood sections and piece them together properly. They had four long flowerbeds completed and weatherproofed by the time the sun began to set. They enjoyed their usual ritual of watching it go down and spotting the lake in the distance.

“I want to see that lake up close.”

“Let’s go sometime,” he said. “We can rid up there on my bike.”

She nodded and rubbed at her shoulder, which was hurting from all the activity.

“Sore?” he said.

“Yeah, a little. My legs hurt, too.”

“Come here.”

He pulled her in front of him and began to knead the muscles in her shoulders and the back of her neck. He worked down her arms, as well, and he did it with such expertise that Beth began to fall asleep on her feet. He had her sit down and he worked the muscles of her calves with such finesse she felt the pain ease right out of them. He really was a very skilled masseur. There came a point, though, where his touch was less soothing and more arousing. She felt her heart begin to thud a little faster and tried to calm down. 

“You need some heat,” he said. His voice had a certain gruff quality to it, as though he, too, was fighting not to give in to desire as he stroked the muscles of her legs. “Take a hot shower tonight before you go to bed. Also take some aspirin and drink a few cups of water. You’ll feel better for it.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking his hand after he finished massaging her calves and he helped her up.

Beth found herself pressed against him, her face very close to his. He wasn’t a lot taller than she was. She was looking up at him, her entire body longing to feel his hands roam where they would. He placed one hand on her lower back and pressed his fingers into the soft skin there, pulling her closer to him.

“Sutton…”

“Call me Beth,” she said, longing to hear her name on his lips.

“Beth,” he said, and she fully leaned against him, aroused at hearing her real name in his voice and from his lips. Their lips were now only a few inches apart. It took every ounce of Daryl’s willpower to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He pulled gently away from her, leaving her feeling oddly cool in the humid heat of the evening. She waited until he had time to get into his place before she grabbed her keys and went home. She leaned against the door once it was shut and closed her eyes.

Good job, Beth. You’ve gone and let yourself start to fall for a man who’ll never be yours.

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