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Need You Now

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Friday, June 11th, 1999

Daryl tried to stay away from Samantha. He could almost say he gave it a valiant effort and was doing well at it until he saw her at the end of the week getting gas at the station across the street from the garage. There had been a brief moment of hesitation before he ended up jogging across the street to stand by her car while she was inside paying for the fuel. Of course, he had never been able to wait around patiently, so while she was inside Daryl found himself inspecting her tire pressure and checking the tread; two things he'd done just the week before, but it gave him something to do until she returned.

"Thank you!" Samantha called over her shoulder to Mitch, the gas station clerk who had been a fixture at the store for as long as she could remember. She tucked the bottle of cola between her torso and forearm so that she could unwrap the Popsicle that had whispered her name when paying for the gas. Sam had just shoved the end of the icy strawberry treat in to her mouth and rounded the rear of her vehicle when Daryl popped up from where he was crouched by the rear tire. "Daryl! Hi!" She managed to get out once the Popsicle was removed from her mouth.

"Hey, saw your car...thought I'd come over." Daryl used one hand to shade his eyes from the afternoon sun and noticed there was a blob of pink colored juice at the corner of Sam's mouth. Reaching out, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe it away and without even giving it much thought, immediately sucked the juice off his finger. "Mmm…tastes good."

"One of my weaknesses, especially when it's hot out. You want some?" Sam held out the frozen treat towards him and was actually shocked when Daryl actually leaned forward to bite off a section. The sight of his lips wrapped around the edge of the strawberry Popsicle had her biting down on her bottom lip at the thought of his lips on her instead. Mentally chastising herself for having such a perverted mind, she blushed at the thought and was glad it was hot enough outside that Daryl likely couldn't see her embarrassment.

"What're you up to?" Daryl asked when he'd swallowed the icy chunk of crushed strawberries. He watched as she innocently licked over the spot he had just taken a bite from and wondered if she knew just how sexy that simple act was.

"Nothing now, just finished up at the library." Sam sat the bottle of cola on top of her car while simultaneously licking at the Popsicle. "I volunteer there a few times a week. Read to the kids group, play some music for them, that kind of thing. What about you? Still working?"

"Yeah, almost done." He wanted to ask her if she wanted to go do something, but with the way he looked and smelled after a good nine hours of sweating profusely in a non-air conditioned garage in June he didn't dare. "Just wanted to say hi."

"I'm glad you did...been hoping we'd run in to each other, but doesn't look like we visit the same places." Sam looked up at him with a smile and gave a silent prayer that he would ask her to do something with him.

"Nah, I ain't the library type." Daryl looked down at the ground and kicked at a loose pebble with the toe of his boot. He could only imagine what people thought about him standing there talking to Sam; his sweaty hair and dirty clothes a stark contrast to her perfect appearance. He shoved his hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head before looking back up at her with his hand still in his dirty locks. "Look, uh...the other day, my boss said some stuff after you left. Anyway, I...uh, didn't know you was just eighteen."

"Oh. Yeah, for a few more weeks. I take it that's a problem?" Sam felt her breath hitch in her chest as she waited for his response. Her popsicle, now forgotten, dripped on to the pavement.

"I'm twenty six, ain't that a bit old for you? Don't you want someone your own age? Hell, someone that ain't always covered in grease…can take you out to nice places?" Daryl tried to avoid the bright green eyes that blinked up at him and tried to do the right thing. "You deserve better than someone like me."

"But, what if who I want is you?" Sam whispered as the gap between them someone managed to lessen. Now, there was only a few inches between their bodies and she could not remember if it was her that moved closer or if it was Daryl. "I like you, Daryl. Granted, I don't know much about you, but I think you're nice and I don't have a problem with your age… if you don't have one with mine."

"What about your father? Your brothers? I done been warned they ain't gonna be too damn happy about it." She was so close now that Daryl could once again smell the faintly sweet smell that he associated with Sam.

"Maybe they don't have to know." Sam whispered, her heart thumped in her chest as she waited for him to say something in return. While she had never lied to her parents about anything of importance, anything that could end up getting her hurt, she had partaken in the occasional white lie. That didn't mean she felt good about it, but sometimes a girl had to have a little bit of a life. "Maybe it could be our little secret. See what happens?"

"Maybe," Daryl murmured as he lost himself in Sam's gaze. He knew he should be offended at being shoved in the dark, tucked away like a dirty little secret, but if it meant being with Sam then he'd have to deal with it. "We ain't being too secretive out here though."

"You're right. But, you were just checking my tire pressure. Totally innocent and friendly." Samantha smiled up at him and forced herself to take a few steps backwards. With a few steps between them her mind was ever so slightly clearer and the melting popsicle in her hand was suddenly remembered. She stepped around Daryl and walked over to the trash can to toss it inside.

"How do we do this then? When can I see you?" Daryl opened the car door for her and let it stand as a barrier between them. Their hands were both curled over the top of the window, barely touching, but just that small amount of contact was enough to have on his fingers tingling with anticipation; itching to touch more of her.

"I'm playing tomorrow night if you want to come. Not here, it's at this place about an hour away. Small bar...a dive really, but they serve food which is surprisingly edible. It's called Tiny's, over by the community college that Cassie goes to." Sam leaned in to the car and grabbed a scrap of paper and a pen from the console to scribble her phone number on. "Here. I have my own line."

"Can't see your dad letting you play in a bar. Guessin' he don't know that either?" Daryl took the slip of paper from her hand and slid it into his wallet for safekeeping. The thought of calling her parents’ house, her private line or not, was a slightly frightening notion.

"Well, he knows I am playing somewhere near the college and that I will be staying at Cassie's. He would actually kill me if he knew what I was really doing, but dang it if I don't get tired of doing weddings and town parties all the time. Not really supposed to be playing there for real since I'm not old enough to be in the bar, but the owner knows Cassie and lets me slide. It's not like I drink or anything, just sing." Sam felt like she was rambling but was having a hard time ending the conversation because she didn't want him to leave. "So, you think you might come by?"

"I'll be there." Daryl hated to leave, but at this hour of the day there was about to be more traffic as people left work and headed home and he didn't want to risk someone seeing him drooling over Sam in the gas station parking lot.

"Great. I'll see you then." Sam slid in to her car and smiled up at him from the seat while he closed the door for her. Their gaze remained connected for a few beats longer than necessary before Daryl finally turned and jogged across the street to the garage.

Once she got home, Samantha put her car keys on the table by the door and flipped through the stack of mail she had collected from the box. She took out the one envelope and clothing magazine marked for her and walked towards the kitchen to give her mother the rest. Since her mom was in the middle of cooking dinner, she sat the stack on the kitchen island and said, "Hey Mom, here's the mail."

"Thanks honey." Her mom replied as she leaned down to inspect the food cooking in the oven. Satisfied that it was progressing nicely, Donna Collins took off her oven mitts and looked at her daughter with motherly concern. "I got a call today. Mrs. Jankowsky saw you at the gas station flirting with that new mechanic over at Swain's."

"Got to love small towns." Sam sighed and rolled her eyes. One day she hoped to be far from Collins and actually live in a place where people were more concerned with their own lives instead of others. "I wasn't flirting. He came over to ask how my car was doing while I was getting gas. Geez. Tell Mrs. Jankowsy to get a hobby or something."

"Samantha." Donna replied in that tone that clearly meant she was displeased with her daughter's remark. "Edith was just concerned…she said that boy is too old for you. She didn't mean anything by it."

"Sure, Mom." Samantha stood up to leave, utterly finished with the conversation. She knew if she stayed any longer then she would have to make another remark that might not make her mother happy. "Nothing was going on. He was just being nice."

"Ok, then...well, I appreciate that he was checking on the car. Not a lot of people would do that these days." Donna slipped on her oven mitts once more and turned back to the oven. "Your dad is on his way home. Tyler is coming for dinner, too. You've got about half an hour."

"Cool. I'm going to go change then. Bobby Harris decided to stick a lollipop in my chair while I was swapping books. I didn't notice until it was too late. Think you can get it out?" Sam walked around the island and showed her mother the sticky spot on the back of her favorite red shorts.

"That should be easy enough, you can barely see it." Donna motioned towards the laundry room and continued, "Go put some pre-treat on it and leave them for me in there."

Samantha brushed past her mother and went in to the laundry room, where she followed instructions and left the shorts laying on the washing machine before going up the back stairs that led up to the second floor. Once in her bedroom, she changed in to a pair of jeans and traded the button down sleeveless plaid shirt for a t-shirt and made sure her bedroom door was shut before plopping down on the bed to call Cassie.

"You will never guess what happened!" She said excitedly into the phone when Cassie picked up. Laying on her back, she inspected the nails on her free hand while her friend tossed out a few halfhearted guesses. "I saw Daryl! He's coming tomorrow night!"

"And here you thought he was avoiding you." Cassie squealed on the other end of the phone.

"I think he actually was, Cass. Mr. Swain told him how old I am and warned him about my dad and the terrible four." Sam used the nickname she had given her brothers back when she had started dating in high school. Somehow all of her dates ended up being terrified of coming to her house and suddenly broke up with her after a few weeks. Eventually, she had found out it was because her four brothers had been terrorizing the few boys she had dated in high school. It had gotten so bad that by her junior year it was next to impossible to find a date to the school dances.

"Yikes. That's enough to run off anyone." Cassie replied sincerely as she flipped through the channels on the television in search of something to pass the time. "So, just how old is he?"

"Twenty six." Sam twirled the phone cord around her finger and stared up at the glow in the dark stars she had stuck to her ceiling back in junior high. "Tell me I'm being crazy."

"You're being crazy, but I like it. It's about time you did something wild and crazy, stop being so damned reserved all the time. By your age most girls have lied to their parents about at least six guys they've dated." Cassie figured she was exaggerating about the actual number, but knew she was right about the deceiving part. "I'll be your cover story. It'll be fun! A little summer fling, get you over all the school stress."

"But, I don't have school stress. I actually like school, remember?" Sam replied, thinking to herself that she’d like school a lot more if she could settle on a major she actually enjoyed. Crawling off the bed, she walked over to the window and looked out to find her brother walking down the sidewalk.

"See? All the more reason to do something different. You're damn near a schoolmarm, Sam. Live a little!" Unable to find anything interesting on the television, Cassie settled for an old Simpson's episode.

"When this all goes down in flames, I'm going to remember it was your idea." Sam teased as she held the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could readjust her ponytail. "Anyway, I gotta go. Tyler's here for dinner."

"Oooh, tell your cute brother to call me later." Cassie said with a laugh, knowing full well that saying so would drive Sam nuts and that Tyler Collins would never call her. "I'll see you tomorrow. G'night."

Sam said farewell and hung up the phone at about the same time she heard her brother bellow from downstairs that it was time for dinner. At twenty eight, Tyler was a full ten years older than her, but that did not mean he acted older than her. When Sam came in to the kitchen, he was getting the tea pitcher out of the refrigerator and pulled the end of her hair with his free hand. Swatting at him, Sam started to pester him back, but was stopped by a glare from their mother.

"What are you doing here on a Friday night? Can't get a date?" Tyler asked as they sat down at the table, knowing full well that the boys in this town were too frightened by her family to ever ask her out.

"I could ask you the same thing." Sam replied sarcastically before sticking her tongue out at her brother. With his sandy blonde locks that were forever in need of a trim, hazel eyes and dimples, it was typically unheard of for him to be without a date. "Did the women in this town finally grow a brain and realize you were dating all of them at once?"

"I've got plans later." Tyler grinned devilishly and winked, letting Sam know full well what type of plans he had later. "Saw Cassie earlier today, she's looking pretty good lately."

"You keep your grubby hands off my best friend." Sam warned him with a glare and the pointy end of her butter knife. "The last thing I need is you breaking her heart."

"Eh, too young for me anyway. What's she, like twenty now? I at least need them old enough to buy their own beer." Tyler poured a glass of sweet tea and winked teasingly as he handed it to Samantha before pouring his own. "Maybe one day."

Samantha wanted to tear in to her brother and threaten him with bodily harm if he ever tried anything with her best friend, knowing full well that Cassie had been sporting a crush on Tyler for several years and that with his reputation he would just break her heart in the end, but he was saved by their father coming through the door. Narrowing her eyes in his direction, she silently warned him with her knife again before bowing her head for their dad to say grace once he joined them at the table.

Across town, while the Collin's family was sitting down to dinner, the Dixon's were doing the same, but with a less than picture perfect setting. Literally on the wrong side of the tracks, the single wide mobile home was in dire need of maintenance with its cracked front door and the missing sections of underpinning that let the cinder blocks holding it up show through. The yard was desperately in need of upkeep, sprouting weeds along the gravel walkway and around the bottom of the mobile home and patchy grass that sported more than one dead spot. Inside, the furniture was a hodge-podge of items pilfered from garage sells or from the side of the road before the garbage truck picked it up. The faux leather couch was patched on one corner with duct tape and the coffee table in front of it was really just an old cable spool, the kitchen table might have been nice at one point but was now scratched liberally and owned not a single one of its original chairs, now sporting several folding chairs instead. Perched on top of an old end table was the only item in the whole place worth much of anything, the television.

Daryl knew he would ever be able to bring Samantha back to his house without feeling like an utter failure at life. He had seen where she lived and knew that all of the belongings in his house would not add up to cost as much as the front door of her house. Granted, it was her parents’ house, but he knew that one day she would have a place just as nice, if not better. With a grim expression on his face, he surveyed the dismal surroundings and wondered what he could do to make it more presentable.

"What's wrong, baby brother? You look like someone done shit in your Wheaties." Merle Dixon asked from where he was kicked back in the dilapidated recliner he had procured from the roadside just a few days ago.

"Nothing," Daryl muttered in return, as if he could actually tell his older brother what was bothering him. He knew full well that admitting he was ashamed of his living conditions would just provoke Merle in to making fun of him. Their family had always lived in places that were only slightly above what was considered squalor, never knowing if they had enough money to pay bills or eat from month to month. Daryl knew he should damn well be used to having nothing and being nothing by now. "What are you doing here anyway? Thought you'd be out."

"What? And miss all this fine company?" Merle laughed sarcastically and took a pull of beer from the bottle in his hand. "Ain't staying long. Heading out tonight, probably won't be back anytime soon. Got a run to Atlanta."

"Ain't you on probation?" Daryl glared at his brother, knowing full well that Merle was still on probation after the last time he got picked up with drugs on him.

"Fuck probation. Ain’t no problem less they catch me." Merle polished off his beer and belched, before tossing the bottle to the ground and picking up another from the cardboard holder next to him on the stained carpet. "Only pussies worry about that shit."

"Yeah, well, they ain't gonna go lightly on you if you get caught." Daryl stood up and stalked across the room to grab the beer bottle laying on its side; dripping out the last drops of cheap beer on to the carpet. Wordlessly, he tossed the empty bottle in to the garbage can and listened as it clinked loudly against the others as it landed.

“Only if I get caught, baby brother. We could use another person…a cop catcher.” Merle pointed out, using the common phrase for the person that lures the police in to pulling them over so that the runners can pass without suspicion. Merle raised his eyebrows at his brother as he turned up the brown glass bottle and chugged half the contents before pulling it away from his mouth. “Make it worth your while, five hundred big ones.”

Standing in the kitchen, staring in to a refrigerator that boasted only a bottle of ketchup and beer, Daryl pondered his options. On one hand, he could stay home and be broke, but stay out of jail. However, on the other hand, he could join his brother, make some money and risk a run in with the authorities. Sighing, Daryl slammed the door on the refrigerator shut and turned to face Merle. “Aight, so long as I’m back by tomorrow night.”

Notes

Comments

@aphishinthec


Wow! Thank you so much. Glad you enjoyed it again. :)

Serenity Serenity
12/1/16

I binge read this too over thanksgiving weekend and literally could not put it down. I was a constant reader when the updates were regular, but sadly am the worst at remembering to review. Excellent story to binge read!!

aphishinthec aphishinthec
12/1/16

@Tripper


Squee! Glad you liked it just as much the second time around. :)

Serenity Serenity
11/28/16

So, I may have just gorged myself on this story and read it all over again in a few days. This is one of my very favourite stories of all time. So freakin' good. Thanks again for this wicked story!

Tripper Tripper
11/25/16

@Lunabelle4


Thank you so much!

Serenity Serenity
11/14/16