Sweet Georgia Belle:
Peaches and Cream
Chapter 6
[Wedding Portrait]

Finally. Every inch of the house was finally scrubbed clean, organized, papers filed, refrigerator and pantry fully stocked, tiles polished, and the air smelled like jasmine and vanilla. It had taken her the entire week, but it was well worth it. Her employer's four bedrooms, three baths home looked better than the pictures on home-living magazines.

Beth scrubbed and cleaned until her muscles ached for hours on end only to wake up the next day to do it all over again. Truth be told, she hadn't expected Daryl's house to be so dusty. It wasn't unorganized to begin with; it just seemed empty—as if no one lived here. It was as if the house was just part of his assets and not so much an actual home to him.

It surprised her to see women's clothing in the large closet in the master suite. Then again, when she pondered on it, she recalled him handing her a set of women's clothes on the day he brought her to his house. She didn't mean to stick her nose into someone else's business, but the closet was covered in dust—almost as if the clothes haven't been touched for years. She didn't dare to think too much of it, she was here to be a housekeeper—to clean and cook. And clean she did. She kept everything in its original position as best as possible while she cleaned the large closet. Then, she was sure she stumbled on something she wasn't supposed to see.

A wedding portrait of a man, and a young toddler in a suit, and a flawless woman in a beautiful white wedding dress. The frame of the portrait was shattered; the beautiful wood had splintered off, severing the beautiful pattern that was carved upon it. The photo itself rested against the closet wall, crumbled and torn at the edges.

Beth had always had a curious trait—maybe it was one of her flaws. When she dared herself to take a closer peek at the large picture, her heart skipped a beat. It was him, Daryl. He had to be the groom. The woman and child—they must be his family. Then the million dollar question was; where were they? Why was Daryl living alone? They did leave him—or did he leave them?

The possibility of Daryl abandoning his family seemed almost impossible to her. From the brief time she spent with him, he seemed to be a respectable guy. Minus the sex with a prostitute part, of course. Which the other possible option was… maybe they did pass on.

And now, four hours after the discovery of the portrait, Beth had finished her surprise project for her boss.

"There," she wiped the plexiglass cover of the portrait's frame with a satisfied smile. She had ventured out into town to buy a new frame set—but none matched the beauty of the frame that had splintered. She had decided to gorilla-glue the pieces together as carefully and precisely as she could. It was not an easy task, but she managed somehow.

Beth took a step back from the hanging portrait. Sure, there was no question that the wooden frame was broken once, but dare she say it—it looked magnificent. It held a special charm. For the first time in months, she felt giddy. Excited. She could hardly imagine what sort of compliments Daryl would give her for her handiwork.

Today marked the day that Daryl would return from his business trip. She owed him a great deal ever since he 'freed' her from the shackles that had her bound to a life of slavery. It wasn't so much the money she was grateful for, it was the amount of trust he had given her—a mere stranger. On the morning he was due to leave; he gave her his credit card and told her he had notified the bank to approve the purchases. So whatever she needed to get to get her jobs done around the house, she had a means to purchase them.

She had never been a spend thrift, and the prospect of using someone else's money made her nervous. Instead, with what little money she saved up, she bought everything she needed. Though, his trust and sincerity touched her deeply, she just wasn't feeling too comfortable in using his money. The little black credit card remained on the kitchen counter, untouched.

6:30 pm. Daryl had called the house phone an hour ago, letting her know that he would be arriving around 7:30 with guests. With the house spotless, dinner almost all ready, it gave Beth enough time to change into more appropriate clothing to receive guests.

She remembered a time, years ago, when Daddy would have friends and family over. It was never appropriate to receive guests in pajamas—especially since the said guests were quite likely her employer's clients or friends. With that thought, Beth rushed up to her assigned bedroom and began rummaging through her clothes. Thankfully, Karen was able to bring all her essentials and a few spare articles of clothing before Jeff returned to her old apartment.

A cold chill brushed up her spine at the thought of her ex-boyfriend. There were nights she couldn't sleep for more than an hour or two at a time. She would dream of him and his deceptive ways… then of the deeds she had done at his violent demands. She knew she was safe here, in Daryl's house. The possibility of being hunted and discovered never strayed too far from her mind. She had been careful—hopefully.

She noticed her fingers trembling; her hands were cold and clammy. "No, I'm safe. I'm okay," Beth whispered to herself reassuringly. "No one will hurt you here, Bethany Greene. Get a hold of yourself," she said firmly, looking into her reflection of the vanity mirror. With a determined nod, Beth resumed her search for a suitable outfit.

A flash of black, green and white caught her eye. Beth smiled when she recognized the fabric. The colors belonged to a dress that her sister, Maggie had given her as a parting gift years ago. A part of her was shocked Karen was able to find that dress. Then again, it was probably the only decent dress she owned. With a smile and a sense of renewed energy, Beth donned on the knee-length garment and finished getting dressed.

It didn't take long to make herself presentable. With a small amount of time to spare, Beth headed down to the kitchen to finish dinner. She noticed the black credit card on the table and decided it would be a bad idea to leave it lying around, so she tucked it into one of the pockets on her dress. She'll have to return the card to Daryl when the guests leave.

Within minutes, she heard the front door open and the sound of men's voice flooded the hallway. The hallway was filled with the men's laughter as they entered. She could hear Daryl's low voice all the way from her position in the kitchen. An odd sensation of warmth spread from her toes and vibrated through every strand of hair on her body. The sound of his voice puts her senses on high alert—in a good way she supposed.

Laughter and happiness were almost always contagious; it was no exception in this case. Their laughter brought a smile to her face as she wiped her hands clean on the kitchen towels and headed into the hallway to greet her boss and his guests.

"Good evening," Beth greeted, the smile on her face wide and welcoming.

"Hello there?" one of Daryl's guests greeted, shocked.

"Oh man, I forgot to tell you guys," Daryl loosened his necktie, his back facing Beth. "I have a housekeeper. This is," he turned around, his hand gesturing to Beth while his gaze remained to his guests. He turned his head to face her; tired looking eyes froze when his eyes landed on her.

"This is… is…," he stammered, he appeared to be as shocked as his guests were.

A part of her wondered if her employer had forgotten her name. It wasn't possible right? He had only been gone for a week. Her smile fell; worried eyes stared at him in return. If he didn't remember her, would he kick her out of his house? Then… would she have to return to her hellish-past?

"Beth," he finally whispered. "This is Miss Beth Greene… my… housekeeper?"

"Yes," Beth added as to reassure him her identity. "My name is Beth Greene. Welcome home, Mr. Dixon. Welcome," she added smiling to his guests. The sense of uncertainty that flooded her body just seconds ago faded away. She saw the recognition in his eyes. There was no way he had forgotten her. But why did Daryl appear so shocked at her appearance?

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she stared down at her dress and clasped her hands behind her lower back, the sense of uncertainty returning.

"Alright then Miss Greene, my name is Rick, Rick Grimes," he offered after he cleared his throat. The clean shaven male crossed the hallway with proud and sure steps towards her, his hand extended for a handshake.

Beth met his handshake meekly, shy and unsure about the close physical contact. Rick must've noticed and immediately took a step back after shaking her hand. She offered him a grateful smile, "Please, call me Beth."

"Then call me Rick," he grinned. "It's not every day we meet a beautiful woman in Daryl's house," he joked, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

Beth's shy smile widened at his sincerity. "Thank you," she replied meekly.

Daryl's other guest stepped forward and offered his hand, "Shane Walsh."

She offered her hand to him, fully intending to shake it. "Pleasure to meet you." Truth be told, she wasn't sure why they were exchanging formalities—she was just a housekeeper after all. She had expected Shane to shake her extend hand, instead, he brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed it firmly.

Surprised at the intimate contact, Beth gasped and tried to snatch her hand back but Shane held it firmly in place. She stared with wide doe-like eyes as he smiled at her, his white teeth gleaming almost predatory-like from the ceiling light.

"The pleasure's all mine, Beth."

Beth swallowed thickly; a foreboding feeling crept up her spine. She pulled on her hand once more, but he wouldn't give. She swore he was just about to take a step closer to her, encroaching in her personal space before a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"She's off limits," Daryl all but growled, his stance tense.

As if a switch in Shane flipped, he shrugged and tossed his hands up at his sides in truce, "I was just being a gentleman. No harm, no foul. Is dinner ready, I'm starving!" He grinned, as if the tension between them meant little to him.

With a muted nod, Beth returned to the kitchen to serve the meal as Daryl led them to the dining room. The look Shane had given her earlier unnerved her. Judging from the way Daryl had reacted, it must've happened at least once before.

She served the meal without much fanfare and declined the offer of dining with them. Shane's eyes followed her as she served the meal while she was in the dining room—as if waiting for the right minute to pounce on her. Thankfully, Daryl and Rick was there. Thank goodness. At this point, she rather eat dinner in the kitchen standing than stay in the room with Shane.

-0-

The men had finished their meals and retreated into Daryl's study, leaving Beth to clean up in silence. For that, she was grateful. The thought of having Shane's predatory gaze on her again made her break out in a cold sweat.

Beth was just about done clearing the dining table when Shane stormed out of the room, nearly knocking her over in his blind rage.

"Shane!" Rick hollered after him, clutching their suit jackets. He casted Beth a weary glance. She didn't know what could've meant though. The two men left Daryl's residence with a slam of the front door without another word.

Beth tilted her head to the side, confused.

"Did you do this?"

She turned around to find Daryl holding onto the wedding portrait she fixed up just hours earlier, with a feral anger on his face. She was speechless— she could almost see the anger rolling off of him in waves. Suddenly, her sense of peace fell apart around her.

"I asked you a question," he hissed, his voice low and threatening.

Beth dropped the wash cloth onto the floor, stunned by the maliciousness in his voice. "Y… yes… I thought… you would like that…. I … I thought…" she stammered, unable to form words.

"You thought? What were you doing in that closet?" He hissed, taking heavy steps towards her around the dining table.

With every step he took, Beth scurried back double. "I was cleaning—I didn't know. I'm sorry…" Her voice sounded so vulnerable, so meek.

"Who told you that you could go in there, huh? This is my fucking house. You can't go rummaging through other people's private shit!"

"I thought they died… that you would like this hanging up somewhere!" She argued weakly in response.

"You don't know shit!" He bellowed, chucking the portrait onto the floor in a fit of anger.

Beth screamed and shielded her face as the frame shattered, sharp fragments flying in every direction. She ignored the sting of the shards that had cut her skin on her arms and cheek. All she could think of was to run.

Run.

All she could see was Jeff's face when she looked up at where Daryl was supposed to be standing. She saw his heinous smirk and with the smirk, the promise of hours of torturous pain. No, she can't stay. She had to run. She must save herself.

Run, Beth… run.

And run she did. Without a second to spare, Beth sprinted to the door and into the driveway with tears falling freely from her eyes.

She had to go, go somewhere… anywhere but here.

Somewhere in her heart, the light that had sparked when Daryl saved her, extinguished. He… Daryl… he was just like Jeff. Like Shane… like Jeff. They are all the same. All men are evil…

Beth opened the electronic driveway gates without much thought and sprinted into the barren streets. She could hear Daryl calling for her, running after her.

"Beth! I'm sorry!"

She cupped her hands over her ears to silence his cries as she continued to run. She had no destination, nowhere to go. She just needed to go somewhere. Away from him.

Beth rounded the corner of the street, unaware of the danger that lurked beyond.

Cold fingers gripped at her neck and a hand covered her mouth, muffling her cries for help. She struggled against her attacker, but the person was much stronger than she. Under the streetlamp, she saw a flash of a black shaggy hair before a sharp pain at the back of her skull rendered her unconscious.

/

JR – Oh… bad move Daryl! Hm… I wondered what happened between Daryl and Shane? :P

Who dares to kidnap our sweet Beth? Stay tuned!

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