My Exception (sequel to No Exceptions)

Fifteen

Daryl's POV

The light flickered, the iron bars of Negan's cell casting shadows over his face, accentuating his now jutting cheek bones. His sinister visage set into a arrogant beam; like he still held all the cards.

I lifted my Steyr and looked through the sight, aiming it between his eyes.

Smile at me now fucker!

My partner stepped between us, obstructing the shot. I grunted and removed my cheek from the stock, "get out of me way! This is between us!"

Rick held his hands out passively and edged closer, "this is not you Daryl! Remember what you promised!"

My toes tapped, holding my position, barrel still aimed at his chest. "Remember wha' he's done Rick! Don' make me go through ye te get te him!"

Negan whistled Easy Street, sending a sharp pain down my neck, white speckles clouding my vision. I sidestepped Rick and pushed the barrel towards the devil's face.

The prick didn't even flinch, "so Daryl, are you gonna be a good little boy and let me out?"

"Shut up!" My sight shaking from my trembling grip.

His face flashed with an unreadable expression, before resetting, "is she alive?"

Who did he think I was?

After all that I went through to get her back... Was he stupid?

"Yes."

The prisoner's face corrugated, a plot in the works.

"Ah, my eager thoroughbred." He ran his tongue over his upper lip, "the fun I had breaking her in."

I yipped like a wounded animal, "I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

My tormentor rolled his eyes in gratification, knowing he'd hit my weak spot before landing another heavy hit.

"I just can NOT wait to ride my prize mare."

Red overtook my vision, kicking the bars so hard they chipped on my steel boot. His ease tearing at my finite control.

Squeeze the trigger and it'll be all over!

"Yer never gonna see her again! Maybe I jus' kill ye righ' now!"

Even in his disadvantage he held his chin up, rolling his shoulders before finally shaking his head, "come on kid! You and I both know you're not gonna kill me."

I ghosted my finger over the trigger, "you sure abou' tha'?"

He lifted his bound hands and stroked his unkempt beard, "yes, as a matter of fact I am!" The cocky prick tilted his head, "you know what you are son? You're a lost puppy, following your master around with you're," he ran his eyes down to my crotch before raising a brow at me, "little tail between your legs."

"I ain't no-one's puppy!"

He don't know me!

Negan stroked his chin with an air of nonchalance, "I bet she put you up to this peaceful bullshit. Poor little mutt; can't even breathe without her say so."

Enough of this!

"I'll show ye mutt!"

I bolted out of the room, throwing the Steyr back and pulling out my blade. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, pushing me to my destiny.

Dwight is a fucking dead man!

My end point was clear in my head, willing to end anyone who got in the way.

First was an asshole that had kicked me when I tried to run the first time. He was too busy flicking through a playboy to defend himself, jabbing my metal into his jugular. The only sound was the heavy thud, dead weight colliding with the ground.

Second was that fat asshole that loved to deliver my dog food sandwiches. The fucking slug hadn't even cocked his pistol before I ran my razor sharp Bowie across his belly, his intestines cascading onto the floor.

Rick rounded the bend, almost tumbling over my last kill's mangled and gurgling form. "Daryl stop this! This can't be how you want this to go down!"

This is exactly how I want it to go down!

Cold air burned my lungs on their intake, sprinting to the Harem. I flung the Rifle into my hands and made quick work of his guards, the ring of the rounds deafening in the narrow brick hallway.

He couldn't escape now even if he wanted to!

I clasped my rifle close, hurdling over the fallen men, my heart thrumming in my chest. I was acutely aware of Rick gaining ground, his footfalls increasing as he drew closer.

Wood splintered as I kicked down the door, revealing a trembling, but armed Dwight. I landed a round into his raised hand, blood and fingers fulminated in every direction, the remaining nub spurting thick crimson, collapsing to the floor beside the fireplace.

Rick pulled back on my shoulder, unwittingly giving me access to his hatchet.

My Bowie just won't do for this job.

I cornered two face, the pitiful shit holding his remaining hand up, begging me for mercy. Obviously he hadn't realised that he was done for; his eyes fluttered, fighting unconsciousness.

Fight this!

The hatchet glinted in the light of the fire as I held the handle with both hands, driving it into his neck, burying the wedge into his sternum.

But I didn't stop there.

I wrenched it out, and replanted it in his stomach. Repeating the motion, only stopping to wipe away the gore that had accumulated on my eyes, blurring my vision.

When there was nothing left I sagged beside the mush, blood and sweat dripping from my drenched mop. Panting in exhaustion.

But, instead of the triumph I should've felt for finally killing him...

I felt lament.

There was no joy in this; I had let Negan into my head. The fucker knew what buttons to press, what strings to pull.

A marionette in his grand puppet show.

Rick edged towards me, kicking the hatchet out of reach. I looked up at him, his eyes wide and jaw slack. In his glistening orbs I saw the creature I had become, a shell of the man I had come in as.

I'd promised to bring Dwight back, get him the help he needs. Start a world that I would want our babies to grow up in by finally showing mercy.

How am I going to face her ever again?