Blood Bourbon

I Can't Go on Without You

The man stopped mid-step, nostrils flaring, jaw setting stubbornly. He met Daryl's gaze, as if challenging him to say something. Daryl forced his expression to stay neutral, shifting to the side and telling himself he could manage the minute it would take for him to get to the parking sublevels.

Ryker stepped in, followed by a woman and a blond-haired man, all of them wearing something that looked like a uniform of tactical hunting clothing, though Ryker made a point of standing between Daryl and the other two, which was a surprise.

Daryl had expected him to avoid being close to him.

"Mr. Martin. It's glad to see you up and about." The woman grinned to him from around Ryker's rigid, scowling form. "You might not remember me, I'm Bryn, I was one of those on your farm the day you saved those two kids..."

"Fully cleared today, Ma'am." Daryl beamed at her, tipping his hat. "Your company has managed to patch me up decent enough."

Ryker stiffened as Daryl accepted the woman's hand and shook it, finally turning to smirk coldly at him. "It took you six months to heal?"

"Concussions are a tricky beast, apparently." Daryl grinned right back, though his heart was racing.

"So you're the cowboy who decided to go swimming with a mountain lion?" The blonde shifted around to face him a bit more, offering a hand from a heavily tattooed arm, his voice pegging him as a southern boy. "Nice to finally meet you, I'm Tim."

"Daryl, sir." He shook the man's hand, remembering something about Ryker's dislike for a man named Tim. And Daryl couldn't shake the feeling that he had met the man before. He offered another charming grin to cover up his confusion. "Pleasure. I've been told my momma gave me more action than brains, to be honest, but believe me, if I ever see a cat like that again, I'm going to have a bigger rifle with me."

"So now that you're cleared, you going into the big game hunting business, then?" Tim grinned, glancing to Ryker, who was scowling darkly, before looking back to Daryl.

Before Daryl could face a full inquisition, the door to his level opened and he stepped out, tipping his hat. "No sir, flying out to Colorado in the morning to meet up with the circuit. Have yourselves a goodnight."

And he turned, walking away as he heard the doors slam shut behind him without another backward glance. He was shaking, though he didn't know if it was fury or nerves as he started toward his truck.

Fuck Ryker.

***

Ryker

The meeting had been painful. Even Tim seemed ready to lose his mind on the Texan representative who wouldn't. Shut. Up.

But finally they had done what needed to be done and they could go back to the hotel and take a couple hours before heading out on a hunt. Thankfully, nothing in the boondocks like the last time he had been in Texas. Just a run of the mill vampire killing humans indiscriminately in the streets of the city.

Since landing the night before, Ryker had been painfully aware of how close he was to that town, to that farm, that he had avoided thinking about for months now. He could swear he could smell Daryl as they walked through the hallways of Knight Corp, though it was only logical with the man being a patient there.

Ryker followed behind Tim to the elevator bank, scowling in thought. It was just the three of them on this mission, after which, they were supposedly going to give Ryker another shot at his own team again. Unless he fucked up again, which was entirely possible, given how much he was craving getting drunk already. Bryn hit the down button and then could hear the car descending towards them almost instantly.